_Brigadier-General U. S. A._
The following is Colonel A. D. Streight's report:
General Dodge informed me that there was no doubt but Forrest had
crossed the Tennessee River, and was in the vicinity of Town Creek;
hence, he agreed to advance as far as Courtland, on the Decatur road,
and, if possible, drive the enemy in that direction, but if they (the
enemy) turned toward Moulton, our cavalry, under General Dodge, was to
be sent in pursuit.
With this understanding, I marched from Tuscumbia at 11 p. m. on the
night of the 26th instant in the direction of Moulton, via
Russellville. It was raining very hard, and the mud and darkness of
the night made our progress very slow. One hundred and fifty of my men
had neither horses nor mules, and fully as many more had such as were
unable to carry more than the saddles; hence fully three hundred of
the men were on foot.
It was expected when I left General Dodge that the greater part of my
command would be able to reach Moulton, some forty miles distant, by
the next night, but, owing to the heavy rains and consequent bad
condition of the roads, it was impossible; consequently I dispatched a
messenger to General Dodge, stating that I would halt at Mount Hope
and wait for the portion of my command who were on foot to come up.
We continued to scour the country for horses and mules, but so many of
those drawn at Nashville were continually failing, that, although we
were successful in collecting a large number, still, many of the men
were without anything to ride.
On the night of the 27th, at Mount Hope, I received word from General
Dodge, stating that he had driven the enemy, and that I should push
on. My command had not all come up yet, nor did they until about 10
a. m. the next day, when we proceeded to Moulton, where we arrived
about dark. Up to this time we had been skirmishing occasionally with
small squads of the enemy, but I could hear of no force of consequence
in the country. All of the command but about fifty men were now
mounted.
We started from Moulton, in the direction of Blountsville, via Day's
Gap, about midnight on April 28. The two previous days it had been
raining most of the time, and the roads were terrible, though on the
evening of the 28th it bid fair for dry weather, which gave us strong
hopes of better times.
We marched the next day (the 29th) to Day's Gap, about thirty-five
miles, and bivouacked for the night. Every man now was mounted, and
although many of the animals were very poor, nevertheless we had
strong hopes that we could easily supply all future demands. We
destroyed during the day a large number of wagons belonging to the
enemy, laden with provisions, arms, tents, etc., which had been sent
to the mountains to avoid us, but, luckily, they fell into our hands.
We were now in the midst of devoted Union people. Many of Captain
Smith's men (Alabamians) were recruited near this place, and many were
the happy greetings between them and their friends and relations. I
could learn nothing of the enemy in the country, with the exception of
small squads of scouting-parties, who were hunting conscripts. We
moved out the next morning before daylight. I will here remark that my
men had been worked very hard in scouring so much of the country, and,
unaccustomed as they were to riding, made it still worse;
consequently, they were illy prepared for the trying ordeal through
which they were to pass. I had not proceeded more than two miles, at
the head of the column, before I was informed that the rear guard had
been attacked, and just at that moment I heard the boom of artillery
in the rear of the column. I had previously learned that the gap
through which we were passing was easily flanked by gaps through the
mountains, both above and below; consequently, I sent orders to the
rear to hold the enemy in check until we could prepare for action. The
head of the column was at the time on the top of the mountain. The
column was moving through the gap; consequently the enemy was easily
held in check.
I soon learned that the enemy had moved through the gaps on my right
and left, and were endeavoring to form a junction in my advance;
consequently I moved ahead rapidly until we passed the intersecting
roads on either flank with the one we occupied. The country was open
sand ridges, very thinly wooded, and afforded fine defensive
positions. As soon as we passed the point above designated (about
three miles from the top of the mountains), we dismounted and formed a
line of battle on a ridge circling to the rear. Our right rested on a
precipitous ravine and the left was protected by a marshy run that was
easily held against the enemy. The mules were sent into a ravine to
the rear of our right, where they were protected from the enemy's
bullets. I also deployed a line of skirmishers, resting on our right
and left flanks encircling our rear, in order to prevent a surprise
from any detached force of the enemy that might approach us from that
direction and to prevent any straggling of either stray animals or
cowardly men.
In the meantime I had instructed Captain Smith, who had command of our
rear guard (now changed to our front), to hold his position until the
enemy pressed him closely, when he should retreat rapidly, and, if
possible, draw them onto our lines, which were concealed by the men
lying down immediately back of the top of the ridge. The lines were
left sufficiently open to permit Captain Smith's command to pass
through near the center. I had two twelve-pounder mountain howitzers,
which were stationed near the road (the center). They were also
concealed. We had hardly completed our arrangements when the enemy
charged Captain Smith in large force, following him closely, and no
sooner had he passed our lines than our whole line rose up and
delivered a volley at short range. We continued to pour a rapid fire
into their ranks, which soon caused them to give way in confusion; but
their reinforcements soon came up, when they dismounted, formed, and
made a determined and vigorous attack. Our skirmishers were soon
driven in, and about the same time the enemy opened upon us with a
battery of artillery.
The enemy soon attempted to carry our lines, but were handsomely
repulsed. During their advance they had run their artillery to within
three hundred yards of our lines, and as soon as they began to waver I
prepared for a charge. I ordered Colonel Hathaway, Seventy-third
Indiana, and Lieutenant-Colonel Sheets, Fifty-first Indiana, on the
left, to make a charge, in order to draw the attention of the battery,
and immediately threw the Third Ohio, Colonel Lawson, and the
Eightieth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel Rodgers, forward rapidly,
hoping to capture the battery. The enemy, after a short but stubborn
resistance, fled in confusion, leaving two pieces of artillery, two
caissons, and about forty prisoners, representing seven different
regiments, a larger number of wounded, and about thirty dead on the
field. Among the former was Captain William H. Forrest, a brother of
General Forrest. Our loss was about thirty killed and wounded, among
the latter Lieutenant-Colonel Sheets, Fifty-first Indiana (mortally),
a brave and gallant officer and one that we were illy prepared to
lose, and Lieutenant Pavey, Eightieth Illinois (on my staff),
severely.
It was now about 11 o'clock, fighting having continued since about 6
o'clock in the morning. I had learned, in the meantime, that the enemy
were in heavy force, fully three times our number, with twelve pieces
of artillery, under General Forrest in person; consequently I was
fearful that they were making an effort to get around us and attack in
the rear of our position; hence I decided to resume the march.
Everything was soon in readiness, and we moved out, leaving a strong
guard (dismounted) in the rear, to check any immediate advance the
enemy might make previous to the column getting in motion. We were not
too soon in our movements, for the column had hardly passed a
cross-road some six miles from our first battle-ground when the enemy
were discovered advancing on our left. Sharp skirmishing commenced at
Crooked Creek, which is about ten miles south of Day's Gap, and
finally the enemy pressed our rear so hard that I was compelled to
prepare for battle. I selected a strong position about a mile south of
the crossing of the creek, on a ridge called Hog Mountain. The whole
force soon became engaged (about one hour before dark). The enemy
strove first to carry our right; then charged the left; but with the
help of the two pieces of artillery captured in the morning and the
two mountain howitzers, all of which were handled with good effect by
Major Vananda, of the Third Ohio, we were able to repulse them.
Fighting continued until about 10 p. m. when the enemy were driven
from our front, leaving a large number of killed and wounded on the
field. I determined at once to resume our march, and as soon as
possible we moved out. The ammunition which we had captured with the
two guns was exhausted, and being very short of horses, I ordered the
guns spiked and the carriages destroyed. I had ordered the
Seventy-third Indiana (Colonel Hathaway) to act as rear guard, and I
remained in the rear in person, for the purpose of being at hand in
case the enemy should attempt to press us as we were moving out. We
had but fairly got under way when I received information of the
enemy's advance.
The moon shone very brightly, and the country was an open woodland,
with an occasional spot of thick undergrowth. In one of these thickets
I placed the Seventy-third Indiana, lying down, and not more than
twenty paces from the road, which was in plain view. The enemy
approached. The head of his column passed without discovering our
position. At this moment the whole regiment opened a most destructive
fire, causing a complete stampede of the enemy. I will here remark
that the country from Day's Gap to Blountsville (about forty miles) is
mostly uninhabited; consequently there is nothing in the country for
man or beast. I had hopes that by pushing ahead we could reach a place
where we could feed before the enemy would come up with us, and, by
holding him back where there was no feed, compel him to lay over a day
at least to recuperate. I had learned that they had been on a forced
march from Town Creek, Ala., a day and two nights previous to their
attacking us. We were not again disturbed until we had marched several
miles, when they attacked our rear guard vigorously. I again succeeded
in ambuscading them, which caused them to give up the pursuit for the
night. We continued our march, and reached Blountsville about 10
o'clock in the morning. Many of our mules had given out, leaving their
riders on foot, but there was very little straggling behind the rear
guard.
At Blountsville we found sufficient corn to feed our tired and hungry
animals. Ammunition and rations were hastily distributed to the men,
and the remaining ammunition was put on pack-mules and the wagons
burned, as it was now understood that it would be impossible to take
them over the roads before us. After resting about two hours, we
resumed our march in the direction of Gadsden.
The column had not got fairly under motion before our pickets were
driven in, and a sharp skirmish ensued between Forrest's advance and
our rear guard, under Captain Smith, in the town of Blountsville. The
enemy followed closely for several miles, continually skirmishing with
the rear guard, but were badly handled by small parties of our men
stopping in the thick bushes by the side of the road and firing at
them at short range, and when we reached the East Branch of the Black
Warrior River the ford was very deep and the enemy pressed so closely
that I was compelled to halt and offer him battle before we could
cross. After some maneuvering, I advanced a heavy line of skirmishers,
who drove the enemy out of sight of my main line, when I ordered the
troops, except the skirmishers, to cross the river as rapidly as
possible. After all had crossed except the skirmishers, they were
rapidly withdrawn, under cover of our artillery, and a heavy line of
skirmishers thrown out on the opposite bank for that purpose. It was
about 5 p. m. when the last of the command crossed the East Branch of
the Black Warrior. We proceeded in the direction of Gadsden without
further interruption, with the exception of small parties who were
continually harassing the rear of the column, until about 9 o'clock
the next morning, May 2, when the rear guard was fiercely attacked at
the crossing of Black Creek, near Gadsden. After a sharp fight the
enemy was repulsed.
I had learned in the meantime, through my scouts, that a large column
of the enemy was moving on our left, parallel with our route,
evidently with the intention of getting in our front, which made it
necessary for us to march all night, though the command was in no
condition to do so, and, to add still more to my embarrassment, a
portion of our ammunition had become damaged in crossing Will's Creek,
which, at the time, was very deep fording. I only halted at Gadsden
sufficiently long to destroy a quantity of arms and commissary stores
found there, and proceeded on. Many of our animals and men were
entirely worn out and unable to keep up with the column; consequently
they fell behind the rear guard and were captured.
It now became evident to me that our only hope was in crossing the
river at Rome and destroying the bridge, which would delay Forrest a
day or two and give us time to collect horses and mules, and allow
the command a little time to sleep, without which it was impossible to
proceed.
The enemy followed closely, and kept up a continuous skirmish with the
rear of the column until about 4 p. m., at which time we reached
Blount's plantation, about fifteen miles from Gadsden, where we could
procure forage for our animals. Here I decided to halt, as it was
impossible to continue the march through the night without feeding and
resting, although to do so was to bring on a general engagement.
Accordingly, the command was dismounted, and a detail made to feed the
horses and mules, while the balance of the command formed in line of
battle on a ridge southwest of the plantation.
Meanwhile the rear guard, in holding the enemy in check, had become
severely engaged and was driven in. The enemy at once attacked our
main line, and tried hard to carry the center, but were gallantly met
and repulsed by the Fifty-first and Seventy-third Indiana, assisted by
Major Vananda, with two mountain howitzers. They then made a
determined effort to turn our right, but were met by the gallant
Eightieth Illinois, assisted by two companies of the Third Ohio.
The enemy, with the exception of a few skirmishers, then fell back to
a ridge some half a mile distant, and commenced massing his force, as
if preparing for a more determined attack. It was becoming dark, and I
decided to withdraw unobserved, if possible, and conceal my command in
a thicket some half a mile to our rear, there to lie in ambush and
await his advance. In the meantime I had ordered Captain Milton
Russell (Fifty-first Indiana) to take two hundred of the best-mounted
men, selected from the whole command, and proceed to Rome, and hold
the bridge until the main command could come up.
The engagement at Blount's plantation revealed the fact that nearly
all of our remaining ammunition was worthless, on account of having
been wet. Much of that carried by the men had become useless by the
paper wearing out and the powder sifting away. It was in this
engagement that the gallant Colonel Hathaway (Seventy-third Indiana)
fell, mortally wounded, and in a few moments expired. Our country has
seldom been called upon to mourn the loss of so brave and valuable an
officer. His loss to me was irreparable. His men had almost worshiped
him, and when he fell it cast a deep gloom of despondency over his
regiment which was hard to overcome.
We remained in ambush but a short time when the enemy, who by some
means had learned of our whereabouts, commenced a flank movement,
which we discovered in time to check. I then decided to withdraw as
silently as possible, and push on in the direction of Rome, but as a
large number of the men were dismounted, their animals having given
out, and the remainder of the stock was so jaded, tender-footed, and
worn down, our progress was necessarily slow; yet, as everything
depended on our reaching Rome before the enemy could throw a
sufficient force there to prevent our crossing the bridge, every
possible effort was made to urge the command forward. We proceeded
without interruption until we reached the vicinity of Centre, when one
of my scouts informed me that a force of the enemy was posted in
ambush but a short distance in our front. I immediately threw forward
a line of skirmishers, with orders to proceed until they were fired
upon, when they should open a brisk fire on the enemy, and hold their
position until the command had time to pass.
The plan worked admirably, for, while my skirmishers were amusing the
enemy, the main column made a detour to the right, and struck the main
road some three miles to the rear of the enemy. As soon as our main
force had passed, the skirmishers withdrew and fell in the rear of the
column. I was then hopeful that we could reach Rome before the enemy
could overtake us. My principal guide had thus far proved reliable,
and I had made particular inquiries of him as to the character of the
road and the country the evening before, and he assured me that there
were no difficult streams to cross and that the road was good; hence
we approached the Chattanooga River at the ferry without any
information as to the real condition of things. Captain Russell had
managed to ferry the last of his command across about one hour
previous to my arrival, but the enemy had seized and run off the boat
before we reached there.
I then ascertained that there was a bridge some seven or eight miles
up the river, near Gaylesville, and procured new guides and pushed on
as rapidly as possible in order to reach the bridge before the enemy
should take possession of it. We had to pass over an old coal-chopping
for several miles, where the timber had been cut and hauled off for
charcoal, leaving innumerable wagon-roads running in every direction,
and the command was so worn out and exhausted that many were asleep,
and in spite of every exertion I could make, with the aid of such of
my officers as were able for duty, the command became separated and
scattered into several squads, traveling in different directions, and
it was not until near daylight that the last of the command had
crossed the river. The bridge was burned, and we proceeded on and
passed Cedar Bluff just after daylight. It now became evident that the
horses and mules could not reach Rome without halting to rest and
feed. Large numbers of the mules were continually giving out. In fact,
I do not think that at that time we had a score of the mules drawn at
Nashville left, and nearly all of those taken in the country were
barefooted, and many of them had such sore backs and tender feet that
it was impossible to ride them; but, in order to get as near as
possible to the force I had sent ahead, we struggled on until about 9
a. m. when we halted and fed our animals. The men, being unaccustomed
to riding, had become so exhausted from fatigue and loss of sleep that
it was almost impossible to keep them awake long enough to feed. We
had halted but a short time, when I was informed that a heavy force of
the enemy was moving on our left, on a route parallel with the one we
were marching on, and was then nearer Rome than we were. About the
same time I received this information our pickets were driven in. The
command was immediately ordered into line, and every effort made to
rally the men for action, but nature was exhausted, and a large
portion of my best troops actually went to sleep while lying in line
of battle under a severe skirmish-fire. After some maneuvering,
Forrest sent in a flag of truce, demanding the surrender of my forces.
Most of my regimental commanders had already expressed the opinion
that, unless we could reach Rome and cross the river before the enemy
came up with us again, we should be compelled to surrender.
Consequently, I called a council of war. I had learned, however, in
the meantime that Captain Russell had been unable to take the bridge
at Rome. Our condition was fully canvassed. As I have remarked before,
our ammunition was worthless, our horses and mules in a desperate
condition, the men were overcome with fatigue and loss of sleep, and
we were confronted by fully three times our number, in the heart of
the enemy's country, and, although personally opposed to surrender,
and so expressed myself at the time, yet I yielded to the unanimous
voice of my regimental commanders, and at once entered into
negotiations with Forrest to obtain the best possible terms I could
for my command, and at about noon, May 3, we surrendered as prisoners
of war.
We were taken to Richmond, Va. The men were soon sent through the
lines and exchanged. My officers and myself were confined in Libby
Prison, where we remained until the night of February 9 last, when
four of my officers and myself, together with several other prisoners,
succeeded in making our escape, and reached Washington in safety about
March 1. The balance of my officers, or nearly all of them, are still
confined as prisoners or have died of disease the result of long
confinement, insufficient food, and cruel treatment at the hands of
the enemy.
I am unable to report the exact number of casualties in the command,
but from the best information I have been able to obtain there were
fifteen officers and about one hundred and thirty enlisted men killed
and wounded. It was a matter of astonishment to all that so much
fighting should occur with so few casualties on our side; but we acted
purely on the defensive, and took advantage of the nature of the
country as best we could. From actual personal observation where we
had driven the enemy from the field, and from what my surgeons, left
with our wounded, learned in relation to the loss of the enemy, I am
convinced that we killed more of his men than we lost in both killed
and wounded.
Previous to the surrender, we had captured and paroled about two
hundred prisoners, and had lost about the same number in consequence
of the animals giving out, and the men, unable to keep up, broke down
from exhaustion, and were necessarily picked up by the enemy; but in
no case was the enemy able to capture a single man in any skirmish or
battle within my knowledge.
I deem it proper to mention the barbarous treatment my wounded
received at the hands of the enemy. Owing to the nature of the service
we were performing, we were compelled to leave our wounded behind. I
provided for them as best I could by leaving them blankets and such
rations as we had, and two of my surgeons remained behind to attend
them; but no sooner did the enemy get possession of our hospitals than
they robbed both officers and men of their blankets, coats, hats,
boots, shoes, rations, and money. The medical stores and instruments
were taken from the surgeons, and my wounded left in a semi-naked and
starving condition, in some instances many miles from any inhabitants,
to perish.
Many thanks to the Union ladies of that country, for they saved many a
brave soldier from a horrible death.
In reviewing the history of this ill-fated expedition, I am convinced
that had we been furnished at Nashville with 800 good horses, instead
of poor, young mules, we would have been successful, in spite of all
other drawbacks; or if General Dodge had succeeded in detaining
Forrest one day longer, we would have been successful even with our
poor outfit.