_Wherein Captain Galligasken details the Means by which the
illustrious Soldier relieved the Army of the Cumberland, and traces
his Career to the glorious Victory of Chattanooga_.
The stoutest heart would have been appalled at the situation in
and around Chattanooga. Rosecrans had failed, and the army of the
Cumberland was "bottled up" in the town. Grant, still feeble, and
unable to move without his crutches, was ordered to extricate the force
from its desperate dilemma; and not only to do this, but to save the
place itself. One less resolute than he, or equally resolute, but less
patriotic and devoted to the loyal cause, might well have exclaimed, "I
pray thee have me excused!" Disabled as he was, he might have pointed
to his crutches, and let them speak for him. They were not only a good
excuse, but a good reason for not going upon such a perilous errand.
Could he have been borne at the head of the victorious veterans of
Vicksburg, and gone into the beleaguered and starved town to the
musical tramp of a large army, it would have looked more hopeful.
But this could not be. Sherman had been started from Memphis with a
heavy force--the army of the Tennessee--to assist Rosecrans, and
he was still struggling through the country, beset with trials and
difficulties. Not with this faithful friend and this tried army could
the crippled general march into Chattanooga.
On the 20th of October, Grant started with only his staff for the
imperilled point, and arrived at Nashville the same night. Even
on his route, invalid as he was, he worked at the solution of
the problem which had been given him to solve. He telegraphed to
Burnside, foreshadowing his plans, and directing the operations of
his subordinate. He requested Admiral Porter to send gunboats up the
Tennessee to insure Sherman's safety, and to facilitate the passage of
his supplies. To Thomas, in Chattanooga, he suggested the opening of
the road to Bridgeport. Without having visited the scene of operations,
he knew all about it, and was ready to grapple with the mighty
difficulty.
At Bridgeport, on the Tennessee, the general and his party took horses
for Chattanooga. The roads were rifted and torn up by the deluge of
rains which had poured down the mountain sides. Here and there the
highway was but a narrow shelf on the steep mountain side, and the
region was strewed with the wrecks of wagons, and the bodies of animals
which had died on the route, or had been killed by being precipitated
over the steep bluffs. At many points the roads were not in condition
to admit of the passage of the party on horseback, and the animals were
led over them; Grant, still a cripple, was borne in the arms of his
companions.
Thus journeyed the great commander to the front, issuing his mandates
for the government of these armies, ordering up supplies, and
indicating the means of forwarding them. I say, enthusiastically, that
the spectacle of a man in his crippled condition, undertaking such an
herculean task, controlling the minutest details, and moving forward
confidently to retrieve the most desperate situation which the whole
war presented, is sublime. I cannot fully express my admiration with
any other term.
It was dark, and the rain poured in torrents, when Grant reached
Chattanooga. If he had not quailed at the prospect before, well might
he then. The rebels, in greatly superior force, hemmed in the town,
save on the north, where the ragged mountain steeps beyond the river
were almost as forbidding as the closed-up lines of the enemy. The
officers and men were sad, weary, and almost hopeless. Their supplies
were nearly exhausted, and there was little hope either in a battle
or a retreat. To this scene of his future labors, the disabled and
worn-out commander was introduced on his arrival. He did not despair;
he was the messenger of hope and ultimate triumph.
On the night of his arrival he requested that Sherman should be placed
in command of the army of the Tennessee, and his wish was granted.
Hooker's command from the army of the Potomac had been sent down to
act with the army of the Cumberland, and was now at Bridgeport. The
question of supplies was the first which engaged Grant's attention.
Except the town of Chattanooga, the rebels held all the country south
of the Tennessee, and frequently invaded the northern shore in cavalry
raids, cutting off the Union supplies. A pontoon bridge was stretched
across the river at Brown's Ferry, the boats, each carrying thirty men,
being silently floated down the river unobserved by the rebel pickets.
The operation was conducted in the night, and, being a complete
success, a footing was gained on the south bank of the river below the
town.
The Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad crossed the Tennessee at
Bridgeport, where Hooker, with the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps, was
located, and came up to Chattanooga through Lookout Valley, on the
south side of the stream, which, being in the hands of the enemy,
had cut off the supplies. Hooker was ordered to cross the river, and
follow the railroad up to the valley. At Wauhatchie he encountered the
rebels, but drove them before him, and reached a point within a mile
of the new pontoon bridge on the night of the 28th of October. He was
fiercely attacked by Longstreet, but successfully repelled the assault,
and Lookout Valley was virtually captured. By this movement a direct
road to Bridgeport, to which the railroad from Nashville was in working
order, was opened in five days after the arrival of Grant.
Only a week before, Jeff. Davis himself had stood upon the summit
of Lookout Mountain, and gazed down upon the Union army shut up in
Chattanooga, absolutely sure that in a brief period, without striking
a blow, it must surrender to Bragg. The tables were suddenly turned
by the matchless skill of Grant. The ammunition and stores poured in
upon the desponding army, now reënforced by two corps, and hope and
joy supplanted fear and despair. The hungry men were once more fed on
full rations, horses were promptly brought up, and the army of the
Cumberland was ready to become the assailants again. The rebels were
confounded by the sudden change in the situation before them.
Grant arranged the details of conveying supplies to Burnside, five
hundred miles up the Cumberland, and thence by wagons, one hundred
farther, to Knoxville. He repeatedly urged upon this gallant soldier
the imperative necessity of holding East Tennessee, though the
government had some doubts in regard to his ability to do so. Grant was
only waiting for the arrival of Sherman, with the army of Tennessee,
to attack the enemy; but until then he could do nothing. Bragg, to
better his own prospects, sent Longstreet, with twenty thousand men and
eighty guns, into East Tennessee, and great anxiety was manifested for
the safety of Burnside's command. The rebels held the railroad from
Chattanooga nearly up to Knoxville, and Grant's force was insufficient
to enable him to render any direct aid. Burnside was sorely pressed
by the foe, but maintained himself nobly. Grant frequently sent him
hopeful messages, and assured himself that East Tennessee would be held.
On the night of the 14th of November, Sherman reported in Chattanooga
to his commander. The plan of the great battle which was to relieve
Burnside, and compel the enemy "to take to the mountain passes by every
available road," had already been formed. The operations were delayed
by savage storms, which raised the river, and damaged the pontoon
bridges, employed to their utmost capacity in crossing Sherman's
troops; but on the 23d the line was formed for the assault.
On the 20th, Grant had received a letter from Bragg, suggesting that if
there were any non-combatants in Chattanooga, prudence would suggest
their early withdrawal; but this was only a trick, which did not
deceive Grant; and two days later he obtained information that Bragg
was preparing to evacuate his position on Missionary Ridge.
Thomas's line, composed of the army of the Cumberland, was drawn up
in front of the town. Just before it were the rebel pickets in close
proximity to those of the national army; indeed, both drew water from a
creek which was the dividing line between them. Grant occasionally rode
out to this stream to observe the position of the enemy. One day he saw
a party of soldiers drawing water. As they wore blue coats, he supposed
they belonged to his own force, and he asked them to whose command they
belonged.
"To Longstreet's corps," replied one of them.
"What are you doing in those coats then?" demanded Grant, unmoved, when
almost any other general officer would have decamped in a hurry, for
fear an accident might happen.
"O, all our corps wear blue!" added the rebel spokesman.
Grant had forgotten this fact, and the rebels scrambled up their own
side of the stream, little suspicious that they had been conversing
with the commander of the united national armies.
The guns in battery along the line opened fire, and the enemy's works
on the long range of hills, replied to the vigorous salute. The line of
Thomas's army moved forward, and the grand spectacle commenced. It was
a magnificent sight, and we who beheld it can never forget the gleam of
those twenty thousand bayonets, as the column pressed steadily on. The
enemy believed it was only a holiday pageant, and their pickets leaned
on their muskets, and watched the brilliant movement. A few shots from
the skirmishers scattered these spectators, and the battle commenced.
The army of the Cumberland was intent upon wiping out the stain of
Chickamauga, and charged impetuously upon the line of rifle-pits
before them, capturing them, and carrying Orchard Knoll, a hill of
considerable importance for future operations. The enemy had been
driven back a mile, and the nationals halted, and fortified the ground
they had captured.
On the right was Hooker, occupying Lookout Valley, above which frowned
the heights of Lookout Mountain, bristling with rebel cannon. On the
creek, in the middle of the valley, extended the line of Confederate
pickets; but there was no approach to the mountain on this side. Hooker
sent a column round its base to a road which conducted, by a zigzag
route, to the summit. The enemy's pickets were captured, and Lookout
Creek bridged.
Hooker's troops fought with the utmost bravery, and demonstrated that
Eastern soldiers, when well led, were fully the equals of those of the
West. They swept everything before them in the fierce struggle that
followed. The Union batteries opened, and the rebels replied from the
steeps of the mountain, drawing down, as it seemed, the thunder and
the lightning from the clouds above, till the hills trembled in the
commotion. The column under General Geary, passing through a piece of
woods, reached the road which led to the heights above. It was a steep
path, and every accessible place was occupied by troops and guns for
its defence. But the column dashed up the precipitous slopes, beating
down all opposition, capturing guns and men on their way. Onward and
upward, in the literal sense of the words, they swept, penetrating the
clouds, which soon hid them from the view of those below. Hooker's
battle in the clouds was a complete success, and Lookout Mountain was
captured. Two thousand prisoners were taken, and the victors in this
remarkable contest rested from their labors on the summit. They had
"gone up," in the highest sense of the phrase, and the rebels also, in
another sense.
Hooker on the right, and Thomas in the centre, had carried out their
portion in the grand programme of the battle; so also had Sherman on
the left. The enemy had been deceived into the belief that his whole
force was to operate in the vicinity of Lookout Mountain, while it was
cautiously moved to a concealed position up the river, and in the rear
of the town. One hundred and sixteen pontoons were conveyed over the
land, and launched in the North Chickamauga Creek, five miles above the
mouth of a stream with the same name on the south side of the river. On
the night before the grand battle, these boats were loaded with men,
and floated down the creek and the Tennessee, until they reached a
point immediately below South Chickamauga Creek, where the bridge was
to be built over the river for the passage of Sherman's army. All the
citizens in the vicinity had been put under guard, so that the enemy
might not learn what was in progress.
The boats landed on the south side of the river, the troops
disembarked, the enemy's outpost was captured, and a position secured
for the beginning of the pontoon bridge. Troops were crossed in boats
continually. At noon the bridge was completed; the army crossed, and
Sherman commenced the march upon the enemy's positions on the left. The
troops were pushed up the hill, and soon gained a commanding eminence,
which was immediately fortified, and guns were dragged up for its
defence. The rebels opened with artillery upon the unexpected foe, but
Sherman was already in possession. A sharp engagement ensued with the
infantry, but the enemy soon withdrew, and the northern portion of
Missionary Ridge was carried.
The morning of the next day dawned clear and cold, revealing the two
armies prepared for the final struggle, in which one was eager to
engage, and which the other could not avoid. The rebels were still
strongly intrenched on Missionary Ridge, whose summit had an extent of
seven miles. Grant took position with his staff on Orchard Knoll, where
he could command a view of the entire battle-field. Plainly to be seen
on the heights above him were the headquarters of the rebel general.
In accordance with his orders, Sherman began the attack on the left,
and closely pressed the Confederate position. Bragg saw his lines
yielding, and sent reenforcements from the centre, precisely as
Grant intended he should do. Sherman secured a position at the first
onslaught, and the battle around him was waged with the most tremendous
fury by both sides; but no further advantage was gained. On the right,
Hooker was working his way around the rebel flank, and Grant, having
been assured that he was in position to do his part of the work,
directed Thomas to move forward in the centre, the rebel general having
weakened this portion of his line to strengthen his right flank.
The four divisions of the army of the Cumberland, one of which was
commanded by Sheridan, made a charge, captured the enemy's rifle-pits
at the foot of the Ridge, and took one thousand prisoners. Thirty guns
immediately opened upon them with grape and canister, cutting them
down in awful slaughter; but it delayed not their march. Steadily
they pushed their way towards the crest of the ridge, and, halfway
up, encountered another line of rifle-pits, which they charged upon
and carried with the same impetuous fury which had marked their first
assault.
Grant and Thomas, on the knoll below, watched the fearful fighting, as
the column mounted the hill. A portion of it was momentarily checked
and turned by the savage fire poured in upon it. Thomas turned to Grant
and said, with some hesitation, which revealed the emotion he struggled
to conceal in the presence of his chief,--
"General, I--I'm--I'm--afraid they won't get _up_."
Grant looked steadfastly at the column, waiting half a minute before he
made any reply; then, coolly taking the cigar he was smoking from his
mouth, he brushed away the ashes before he answered,--
"O, give them time, general," and quietly returned the cigar to his
mouth.
They only wanted a few moments more, and gathering up their energies,
the men pressed forward with redoubled zeal, and gained the summit of
the Ridge. With furious cheers they threw themselves upon the rebel
works, and carried them almost instantly. The foe was overwhelmed
in his strongest position, which, as Bragg said himself, "a line of
skirmishers ought to have maintained against any assaulting force."
Whole regiments threw down their arms, and others fled in hot haste
down the eastern slope. The artillery was captured, and turned upon
other portions of the rebel position. The Confederate line was
sundered, and the enemy were thoroughly beaten in forty-five minutes
after the order to charge had been given on the plain below.
In the moment of victory Grant appeared upon the Ridge, and, passing
along with his head uncovered, received the unanimous applause of the
soldiers. They were in a transport of ecstasy over the victory they
had won, and gathered around him with volleys of cheers, grasping his
hands, and embracing his legs. I wonder not at their enthusiasm, for
these men were of the army of the Cumberland, who had been "bottled up"
in Chattanooga, to starve and die: and while they hailed the victorious
general as the author of the triumph they had achieved, they also
hailed him as their own deliverer. He coolly but not insensibly
received their grateful plaudits. Without pausing to indulge in any
self-glorification, he made the dispositions to complete the victory
and pursue the fleeing host of rebels.
[Illustration: GRANT AND THE SOLDIERS AT MISSIONARY RIDGE.
Page 256.]
The victory was thorough and entire. All the rebel positions had been
captured. Forty guns, seven thousand small arms, and six thousand
prisoners were taken--the heaviest spoils of any battle fought in
the field during the war. The loss of the Union army, in killed,
wounded, and missing, was fifty-six hundred and sixteen. The rebel
loss in killed and wounded was much less, for they fought with all the
advantages of a secure position.
Grant had sixty thousand men, Bragg forty-five thousand; but the
elevated situation, and the elaborate intrenchments in which they
fought, ought to have rendered them equivalent to twice that force, as
the rebel general practically admitted.
The pursuit of the enemy was vigorously followed up, railroads were
destroyed, and immense quantities of stores and rations captured, which
the rebels could ill afford to lose. Bragg had been entirely confident
of his ability to hold his position, and at one time, just before
Thomas's troops reached the crest of the hill, he was congratulating
his troops upon the victory they had won. While he was thus engaged,
the army of the Cumberland broke through his line, and compelled him to
run for his life.
During this fierce battle, Phil Sheridan first attracted the attention
of Grant, by his bold and daring conduct, no less than by his skilful
movements; though the great cavalryman did not know of his good fortune
for months. He had simply been "spotted" for future use.
The battle of Chattanooga was ended in a glorious victory for
the Union, and one of the saddest defeats of the war to the
Confederates--one which put my friend Pollard into "fits," causing him
to declare that "the day was shamefully lost."