Thinking the Johnnies were still coming, I bounced over a fence, and off

through the woods, to a house, and borrowed a two year old colt to ride

back Mowrytown; and at the next place I came to, I borrowed a saddle of

a woman, telling about the scrape; and in due course of time I arrived

at Mowrytown, where I found my pony, but my comrades, having succeeded

in stopping their runaway horses, had again pushed on after Morgan.

Hurrying after them, I overtook them at Sardinia, and learned that I had

fired on--a lot of citizens; and that, too, within fifteen miles of

home. We scoured around till long after night, when I and comrade named

McKee, succeeded in overhauling them. A couple of darkies, belonging to

Morgan's command, with horses and equipments, had wandered into a

settlement of blacks in that neighborhood, and some of the citizens

thought they had been sent as spies, and that some of Morgan's men

intended to make a raid on the village and carry off some of our black

folks into slavery. Not caring to have our black folks reduced to

servitude, we started after the supposed spies, and after a sharp chase,

caught one of them, and got both horses; and the other afterward came in

and gave himself up. The horses belonged to Captain Thorpe, of Morgan's

command; and one contraband was his servant. We thought we ought to be

allowed to keep the horses, which were fine Kentucky stock, and so

stated our claims to Governor Tod; but that honest functionary failed to

get the matter before his obtuse official optics in that light, and so

we had to give them up. McKee couldn't see the profit of the chase; but

I told him that must consist in glory; that the credit of fighting to

save the Union, was pay enough for any man. He admitted that point, but

said, dolefully, that it was _poor pay_. After all my running around,

however, I did not get to see a Morgan man, except in the distance. It

will hardly be necessary for me, after this story, to say that mine was

not the party that captured John and his command; but we were willing

souls, nevertheless.

_CHAPTER XXVI._

OFF TO THE HIAWASSE IN SEARCH OF STEAMBOATS--A FAMILIAR

NEIGHBORHOOD--FEARFUL LEAP--AFFECTING INCIDENT.

Having performed the duties assigned me in Ohio, to the satisfaction of

my superiors, I was ordered back to my regiment, and on the 7th of

August, 1863, I reached it, and reported for duty. I found the boys in

high glee over the Tullahoma campaign, which had just been gloriously

terminated; but at the same time all were busily engaged in making

preparations for the advance on Chattanooga.

I was at once detailed as a scout, to act under Gen. Stanley, chief of

cavalry; and under his directions I went up the mouth of the Hiawasse

river, while the army lay at Winchester. The rebels had some steamboats,

which Gen. Stanley was anxious to get possession of, before they had

time to destroy them; and he knew they were laid up somewhere along the

river, between Chattanooga and Knoxville.

Starting out afoot from Winchester, I took a road in the direction of

Cowan's station, and followed it for several miles; and when I thought I

was far enough up the country, I crossed over on Little Coon, and passed

near where I had been taken prisoner the year before. On Little Coon I

stopped one day to get dinner, and was not long in discovering that the

people were "secesh," and thinking it might be of some advantage, I

concluded to secede for a few minutes too. As soon as I had established

the belief that I was a rebel, I inquired for old man Terry, and asking

if he was still alive; and the woman of the house answered that he was

well, adding that he was her brother-in-law.

"Let me see; didn't he catch a Yank at his house about a year ago?" I

asked, carelessly.

"Why, no," she said, "he didn't catch him, himself, but he sent word to

Colonel Stearns' men, who were camped close by, and they went over to

Terry's house and got him."

"Did you see him, yourself?" I asked.

"No, I didn't see him, for I was a milkin' when they rid by, but the

gals all seed him; they said he was a savage lookin' feller."

"Pretty hard case," I remarked.

"Yes, the gals sed he had a real "hang-dog" face."

"How did he behave himself?" I asked, for I now remembered the place

perfectly well; and also of having seen a couple of buxom girls standing

in the door, who enjoyed my fallen condition hugely, and laughed at my

being tied on the horse.

"Why, the gals said he was a sassin' of our men as far as they could

hear him; and the gals said ef they had a been in our men's place, they

wouldn't a took it, for he was as black as any nigger."

"Did the Yanks ever find out that Terry had him captured?"

"Oh, la, yes; and they sent a power of their men thar, and took off nigh

about everything the old man had."

"What did our men do with the Yank?" I asked.

"Why, we did hear," said the garrulous old woman, "that our men took him

off down to Chattanooga and hung him; and then we heard again he had got

away from our folks; ever since Terry heard that, he's been mighty

oneasy, for the Yankee soldiers that took his truck away, said our men

couldn't keep him, and if ever he got back, he would be jest as sure to

kill Terry as ever he set eyes on him again."

"Well, I reckon the old man would rather he hadn't have had anything to

do with it, in that case," said I.

"Oh, la, yes; for the Yankees liked to have broke him up for it; they

driv off every cow and every hoss creetur he had, besides he's afeared

the feller will git back some time."

"How far does Terry live from here?" I asked.

"About two miles and a half," she replied, adding in the same breath;

"La, it would be mighty bad ef he should happen to git killed off and

leave all them pore little children without anybody to take keer of

them."

"Do you remember that Yankee's name?" I inquired.

"Well now, soldier, I did hear it, but raily I have forgot it;

gals--Virginny--does ary one of you gals remember what that Yankee's

name was that got taken over at your uncle Terry's, last spring, a

year?"

"Virginny" now appeared in the door of the sitting room, and no sooner

did her eyes light on me, than she gave a sort of terrified start, and

retreated to the innermost recesses of the kitchen.

"La, gal, why don't you tell a body!" said the old woman; "Virginny, do

you hear?"

Thinking I would see a little fun with the old woman, I said, solemnly:

"Madam, I am the man."

"La, bless my soul an' body," she said, and sinking into a chair, she

burst into tears.

"Don't be alarmed, madam," I said, "I don't intend to hurt any of you;

and you may tell Terry for me, that he need not be afraid that I will

hurt him, although he caused me six long months of imprisonment, and I

nearly lost my life by it. You can tell him that I will spare him for

his children's sake, and not because I do not think he deserves

punishment. Tell him to stay at home and take care of his children, and

I will see that the Federal soldiers do not molest him."

The young ladies made their appearance at this time, to soothe their

mother's agitated feelings, when I bowed to them, and with excessive

politeness said:

"Ladies, I wish you a very good day."

Finding that there was a considerable force of rebel cavalry on Little

Coon, I concluded to go back on top of Cumberland mountain, and travel

along it until I got out of danger of falling in with them, and I

accordingly changed my route.

Not a great distance from Cowan's station I was going down through a

long, narrow, and very crooked pass in the mountains, when I heard ahead

of me a great deal of chopping. None of our men were in the country, so

I concluded, as there were too many axes going for the chopping to be

citizens, that the enemy must be up to some "dirt." Clambering to the

top of the mountain, I followed along it till I came to a projecting

spur, which I followed out and presently stood on the edge of the bluff,

almost over the cause of my alarm. At the foot of the mountain was a

party of rebel cavalry--home guards, as I supposed--who had about fifty

darkeys chopping down trees across the road, thus effectually blockading

the gap at a place where it could not possibly have been seen until

turning this short spur that projected into it. It didn't require much

soldier sense to tell what that meant. They were fixing a trap for our

cavalry, or some other body of troops that they were perhaps expecting

to pass that way. The thing had been well considered, and would have

been a serious obstacle to any body of troops, at that point, for a few

sharp-shooters deployed along the sides of the mountain could have then

defended it against a large force. There were about twenty rebs

guarding, and fifty darkeys at work. The Johnnies were scattered about

among the choppers, urging them to their utmost exertions; while right

at the end of the spur were their pickets--three in number--but I was

now behind them. After surveying the condition of things, I saw that I

was perfectly safe from them, for the sides of the mountain were very

steep, and I could kill every white man there before they could climb up

to me; and as for the blacks I did not fear them. They had not fallen

many trees up to that time, so I thought I would file my objections to

the whole proceedings, and selecting a good position behind a huge,

craggy rock, I picked out the most prominent man, who was a portly

fellow, in his shirt sleeves, riding about among the darkeys, whip in

hand. He rode a fine, light gray horse, and was a splendid target. He

was about four hundred yards off and "down hill," and knowing that a

"down hill" shot is apt to carry over, I pulled right on the horse's

rump, as he was going straight from me. A puff of wind raised the smoke

from my rifle, and I could see when the ball struck. It must have missed

the man entirely, for the horse reared almost straight on his hind feet,

and gave a terrific bound, which tumbled the rider out of his little old

"terrapin shell" saddle upon the rocks so violently, that he must have

been severely injured, for some of the negroes ran to him and helped him

up, while several of the white men caught and brought back his horse,

which was bleeding profusely from a point in the middle of the right

hip. While this was going on, every thing was in the highest state of

excitement. The soldiers ran together, looking in every direction, in

the wildest alarm, and every darkey ceased chopping instanter. One

fellow, who was much closer to me than the others, bawled out at the top

of his voice:

"Who fired that shot?" But he received no answer save the echo of his

own voice; but determined to know, he raised himself in his stirrups,

and bawled louder than ever:

"I say, who fired that shot?" but he still received no answer.

By this time my gun was loaded, and I took good aim at him, and fired,

just as the word "shot," "shot," "shot," was echoing among the hills;

and without waiting to see the effect of it, I sprang upon the rock, in

plain view of them, and began to order an imaginary comrade to "run back

and tell the regiment to 'hurry up,'" and then turning, with my gun

loaded, I sent another shot whizzing among them, at the same time

ordering some skirmishers to come down from the opposite ridge, and

close in with the rebels, accompanying my speech with a violent gesture,

as though pointing right at my supposed friends. I then fired a third

shot and raised a loud "hurrah boys, and we'll surround 'em," when the

Johnnies fled in the wildest confusion, hardly taking time to help their

comrade to mount his wounded horse, which was almost unmanageable. As

the cavalry was speeding down the pass, and the darkeys were shuffling

after them, I ran back up the mountain, and descending it, climbed the

opposite side and kept on my journey, following the top of the ridge the

rest of that day, and also on the following night and the next day until

about nine o'clock in the morning, when I was suddenly startled by the

sound of horses' feet coming behind me. I stepped behind a tree and

listened, and discovered there were several of them.

A spur put out ahead of me from the main mountain, and I thought if I

would run out on this, they could not see me, and would ride past. The

timber was very open, and I was disappointed; for, in coming around a

bend in the road, they observed me just as I arrived on the brink of the

mountain, which was very steep. There was about a dozen of them,

well-mounted; and they came upon me as fast as they could run through

the timber; but they necessarily had to run up to the place where I

turned off to gain the top of the spur, to follow me, and this gave me

time, and I improved it by scrambling down the steep sides of the

mountain, very fast; but I presently came to the top of a cliff, about

three hundred feet high. This looked like a bad chance for escape, but,

turning along it to the right a few hundred yards, I again found a place

where I could descend some distance; but was then once more stopped by

another cliff which projected out like a shelf. Below the right-hand end

of this cliff, a huge hickory tree was growing, and its shaggy top just

reared itself above the shelf on which I stood, the trunk being about

eight feet from the edge of the cliff. There was no time to lose, for

already I could hear my pursuers clattering over the rocks above me, and

once I heard a saber jingle; therefore, running to this tree, I looked

over the giddy hight, then slung my rifle across my back, and leaped out

headforemost with all my strength. I grasped the body of the tree with

my arms and succeeded in holding, although the weight of my heavy

accouterments almost jerked me loose again. Sliding rapidly down the

tree, I lit on another bench in the mountain, from which I made my way

down into the bottom of a deep ravine.

When I got down to the foot of the tree, my clothes were badly torn, and

great slivers of hickory-bark were sticking through them in every

direction. My hands, arms, and breast were bleeding profusely from

several wounds, cut by the rough bark. When I struck the tree the breath

was nearly knocked out of me, and it required all my strength to hold

on. I was now safe, and never saw nor heard of my pursuers again. I

followed this, to the bottom of the mountain, and just as I got to the

mouth of the ravine, I saw a man raise his head up from behind a log,

so that I could just see the rim of his hat. Supposing, of course, that

no one but a bushwhacker would be caught in such a suspicious place, I

pulled down on him with my Spencer-rifle and took a careful aim right on

the center of his hat. I was not more than fifty yards from him, and was

just closing my finger on the trigger, when I saw a woman's bonnet raise

up beside the hat, when I noiselessly lowered my gun, and stepped behind

a tree and waited to see what this could mean. Presently, a fine,

athletic man raised up, as straight as an Indian; though he seemed to be

laboring under the most intense excitement. His hands were clenched, and

his eyes were fiercely glaring with passion. The next moment, a woman

stood up beside him, and set a little bucket on the log, at the same

time weeping bitterly; and as she strove to restrain her tears with her

little white hands, her bonnet fell back upon her shoulders, and exposed

a beautiful face of dazzling fairness, and features of perfect

regularity. The man raised his right arm in an excited manner, and,

instinctively, I clutched my trusty rifle, and the thought flashed

through my mind, "if you strike that woman you are a dead man;" but,

before I had time to give it utterance, the woman, throwing her arms

around his neck, fell sobbing upon his breast, locked in his loving

embrace. Great God! how deeply my soul was agitated as I remembered how

nearly I had come to rashly firing, when the man first raised his head

from behind the log! What an escape from shedding innocent blood, and

bringing a blighting, overwhelming sorrow upon that beautiful woman, who

was now clinging so affectionately to him! While I was thanking God that

I had not fired, the woman's voice broke upon the still mountain

solitude, and she save utterance to her frantic grief:

"Oh, Henry, my love, you must not, shall not go. They shall not take you

from me, and drag you away to fight a people who have never harmed us;

perhaps to be killed, or thrown into a cruel prison! No, no, you shall

not go; I will feed you here in these mountains as long as I live,

before they shall take you from me," and she nestled closer to his manly

bosom.

Raising his hand again, as before, he replied: "Suzie, Suzie, I will not

leave you; no, I will not leave you; but I will hover around our home,

and watch over you and Willie as long as I can; but if the worst comes,

and I must fight, so help me God! I will fight for the Union of the

States as long as God lets me live." His voice, although choked with

emotion, was deep and manly, and sounded through the solemn stillness of

the forest until the awakening echoes of the great mountain caught up

and repeated the "patriot's vow."

His loud, excited tones seemed to rouse a little child, that had been

sleeping behind the log; for pretty soon I heard "mamma," in childish

accents, and then a little, bright-eyed, chubby-faced boy, about three

years old, ran out from the log, and caught his father with infantile

affection; and winding his little arms around his parent's knees, he

looked wonderingly up at his mother, and said, in a pleading voice: "O,

papa, don't go!" The man laid one hand fondly on the child's head, and

the woman raised herself from his breast, and taking the child up, said

to it: "Willie, kiss papa."

As the child stretched out its arms, and put up its little mouth, I

stepped from behind my tree, and advanced toward the group. At first

they were startled at my footsteps; but when they saw it was a Yankee

soldier, they were reassured, and gave me a cordial greeting. The man

then told his wife it was time for her to go home; and bidding her to

"take the soldier to the house, and give him his dinner," he turned up

in the mountain gorge, while the woman led the way out into the valley

to her dwelling--a neat little log house; and in a few minutes she laid

before me an elegant supper; and although it was the last of August, the

heat was scarcely felt in this cool retreat.

I have forgotten this man's name; but, if I remember rightly, he was a

son-in-law of old man Russell, who lived in the head of Dorin's Cove,

where I staid that night. He had been compelled to hide out in the

Cumberland mountains for several months, to keep from being dragged away

to the rebel army; and his wife told me how she had to take his

provisions to him, and that even her steps were watched. That she often

carried his food to the mountains in the back of her bonnet, and laid it

in some place where he could find it; but that sometimes he would be two

or three days without food.

I was once almost tempted to ask the old man Russell if he didn't want

another son-in-law, for he had a second good looking daughter, whose

admiration for Yankee soldiers was only exceeded by her devotion to the

cause of the Union. She complained bitterly that their part of the

confederacy was not able to afford her a pair of shoes, although she had

offered fabulous prices in gold for them, and I, therefore, promised to

bring her a pair the next time I came that way; but this is not the only

promise of this sort that I have left unfulfilled in that country. Of

course, at the time they would be made, I would mean it; but I seldom

saw the parties a second time.

After passing a pleasant night at Russell's, I made my way to Bridgeport

just as Gen. Lytle arrived there. He had some important service to do in

scouting through the mountains after some bushwhackers, who were

harboring in the country from Little Coon up to Widow's creek. Having

been in that region before, I knew just where their hiding-places were,

and, of course, we soon routed them, and I pursued my tedious journey in

quest of steamboats. While scouting for Lytle, I was introduced to Gen.

Sheridan, who was then a division commander; and he then told me that

the service was for him, and that he would see me handsomely rewarded;

but the General, I suppose, has never had a chance to fulfill his

promise, for I have not seen him since.

However, it makes no difference, for soldiering, like virtue, must be

its own reward. The rebels having taken all the water craft to their

side of the Tennessee, General Lytle made a detail of men to dig out a

canoe in which I could cross the river. It was made in the night, and

early next morning I put it to a good use, running over to the island

opposite Bridgeport, and catching a Johnny for the General.

The reprobate, not knowing that the Yankees had a boat of their own, had

paddled defiantly down the river before Lytle's headquarters, when the

General said: "Pike, go and fetch that man to me; can't you catch him in

your boat?" "You just watch the race if you don't believe it," said I,

and away I went, and soon had the Johnny standing in the presence of the

General; and like all the rest of the secesh clan that ever I caught, he

exhibited the most abject humility.

_CHAPTER XXVII._

AFTER STEAMBOATS AGAIN--A MOUNTAIN NYMPH--BOB. WHITE, THE UNION

BUSHWHACKER.

Leaving Bridgeport, I once more was off on my steamboat exploits, and as

I was crossing over Walden's ridge, about fifteen miles below

Chattanooga, at the top of the "cut off" I heard a very long, and loud

scream, or more like an exultant yell. Thinking of nothing but

bushwhackers in that locality, I "treed" instanter, and stood with my

gun at a "ready" to fire on any suspicious object. Soon the sound of a

horse's feet, coming almost toward me at a run, roused me to renewed

vigilance, that I might get the first shot; for I made sure it was some

rebel cavalryman. I was not kept long in suspense, however, for in a few

seconds a magnificent horse bounded into view, mounted by a beautiful

young woman, who was riding "man fashion," or, as the little boys say,

"astraddle," utterly unconscious of observation. Her long, brown hair

was streaming in the wind, as she was without bonnet or shawl; her short

sleeves and low necked dress, left a beautiful neck, plump arms, and a

voluptuous bosom, partially, but not immodestly exposed, while the

skirts of her dress being drawn up by her peculiar position on the

horse, exposed limbs perfect in development, and of dazzling whiteness.

She was singing, in a clear musical voice, snatches of some song which

she occasionally stopped, to give a shrill whoop at a half wild cow she

was driving before her, at a fearful rate through the thick timber. She

rode her horse with a fearless grace, and a firm hand, guiding the

spirited beast by a rope halter turned into a loop around his nose. She

soon vanished from my view, to the left, following a well beaten trail

which I was confident must lead to a house. So quick did she come and

go, and so beautiful did she appear, galloping away through the green

woods with such a happy gracefulness, and fearless air, that I could

almost imagine that I had seen a real nymph of the mountain.

[Illustration: "It was a fearful ride in the dark, as several of the

cascades were five or six feet from top to bottom, and one, known as the

"big jump," was ten feet in perpendicular hight."--=Page 325.=]

Following the trail she took, in about a mile and a half I came to a

house. A panting horse, of magnificent proportions, had just been turned

loose in the yard to graze, and I instantly recognized it as the one I

had seen careering so proudly through the woods with the fair rider. I

at once went to the house, and at the door was welcomed by a pleasant

looking matron, who invited me in, and treated me with much civility, as

soon as I told her that I was a Yankee soldier and wanted lodgings. Soon

after, the fair equestrienne came in with a bucket of milk on her head,

"nigger" fashion. There was no poetry in that, it is true; but she was

really very pretty, and as she placed her bucket of milk on the table,

the elder woman addressed her:

"Eliza, here is one of _our_ soldiers come to see us at last."

Then turning to me, she said:

"Stranger, what is your name?"

I told her my name and regiment, and asked what her husband's name was,

and judge of my astonishment when she answered "Bob White"--he whose

patriotic efforts in behalf of the Union, were a theme of admiration far

and wide, in that section of Tennessee. He was what the rebels called a

Yankee bushwhacker, and was a great terror to small bands of rebel

cavalry who had to pass any where through the Sequatchie valley. He had

about thirty men under his command, and sometimes could raise as many as

sixty, on special occasions.

While my hostess was preparing supper for me, she and her sister were

full of curiosity to hear from the north, and especially what our

expectations were in regard to the rebellion, and our hopes of

maintaining the Federal Union. I gave them the best satisfaction I

could, consistent with duty; and they were much pleased to hear that our

numbers were so great, and our army so well appointed, and expressed the

most encouraging hopes of our final success.

Supper dispatched, I went to bed, as I was very tired. I had just got

well off on a scout to the land of dreams, when I was aroused by the

sound of horse's feet. The reader will understand that on these trips I

never undressed, and sometimes slept with all my accoutrements on. The

two women had put me to sleep in a room separated from theirs by an

entry; and at the sound of horses, I sprang out of bed and bounded

noiselessly to the door and tried to open it quietly; but lo! it refused

to open; and on stooping down and peering through the crack between the

door and the wall of the cabin, I found it was fastened by a strong

chain, which was passed through a hole in the door, and around the

facing between the logs, and was locked on the outside with a strong

padlock. There was no time to lose, so turning to the window--a single

sash, held in by two nails,--I broke the latter off, and laying the sash

on the bed, I jumped out on the ground and ran behind the house as the

men hailed the inmates at the front door; and peering around the corner,

I discovered a large squad of rebel cavalry; Mrs. White answered them at

the door.

"Was there a man passed here about dark, afoot and dressed in Yankee

uniform?" they inquired.

"Why, yes, there was," said Mrs. White; "he stopped at my house, and got

his supper, about dark, and as soon as he was done his supper, he left

to go the 'cut off' way to Chattanooga."

"Who did he say he was?" was next asked.

"Why, he told us that he was a Georgian, and that he was going home."

"You say he went the 'cut off?'" said the officer, interrogatively.

"Well, now, I don't know for certain that he did go that way, but he

told us that he was going by the '_suck_,' and, of course, he would be

obliged to go the 'cut off' from here."

With a polite "Thank you, madam," the officer rode away, followed by his

men, some twenty in number. Waiting to see the last of them disappear

over the brow of the mountain, I crept back through the window and

replaced the sash again, and was soon sound asleep. Nothing more

occurred to rouse me till midnight, except that one of the women opened

the door cautiously, and looked in, I suppose to see if I had been

disturbed. I feigned to be asleep, and she closed the door and locked it

again. Near midnight, I was again awakened by the sound of approaching

horses; and as they halted at the door, I again removed the sash, and

jumped out of the window. This party hallooed and Mrs. White asked:

"Who's there?" and one of the men answered: "Mack."

I peeped around the log house again, and discovered eight resolute men,

all well mounted, and armed to the teeth.

"Is that you, McArthur," said the woman.

"Yes, come out a minute," he said.

She hastily dressed herself, and throwing a shawl around her shoulders,

went fearlessly out to see them. Their conversation was carried on in a

low tone--so low that I could only catch a few words now and then.

"We heard of him down at the foot of the mountain," they said presently,

in a louder tone, as if to end an argument; "Well, tell him to come out

here, we want to see him."

"Oh, boys, let him sleep," pleaded the woman, "for I know he's tired;

besides, I am certain he is a Yankee, for he was talking to me and

Eliza, until he got so sleepy he couldn't hold his head up."

"Oh, there are a heap of men claims to be Yankees now," said Mack; "tell

him to come out."

I now walked out to them, for I was certain they were some of Bob

White's men. They were very frank, telling me their suspicions; but I

had no trouble in satisfying them that I was all right, and a friend;

and then, after inquiring of the woman whose company of rebels it was

that had passed, the whole party rode on in the same course they had

gone.

This party had a good looking young woman with them, who was piloting

them over in the valley, to catch a notorious guerrilla, by the name of

Pickett; and the men vowed they would hang him if they caught him. When

they had gone away, I asked Mrs. White what made her lock me up in the

room:

"Why, you know," she said, "in these troublesome times a body never

knows who they can trust; and you know we had no men folks about the

house, for Bob is gone over the river, on a scout for Gen. Rosecrans."

I now got along without further disturbance till next morning, when,

after a good breakfast I resumed my journey, feeling very grateful to my

generous hostess, who refused pay almost indignantly.

At the mouth of Soddy creek is a place called Penny's Ford. The rebels

were picketing on the south bank, and on the north lived a very old

woman, named Martin, in a house entirely alone. Some of our prisoners,

who had escaped from the south side of the river, crossed over at

Penny's Ford, and the old lady had fed and secreted them, till they got

strong enough to travel. Of this the Johnnies had heard, and to show

their _chivalry_, I suppose; would amuse themselves by shooting at her.

It was at long range--about nine hundred yards--and to have hit her,

would have been mere accident. Every time she showed herself, they would

vault a ball over, more, probably, to see the old woman run, than with

any other object in view. She stood out nobly, for several days; but,

finally, one time, while sitting in the door of the cabin, knitting, a

ball struck the door facing, about four inches from her head, and this

so frightened her, that she closed her house, and went to live with the

old man Penny, where I heard her relate her story.

I went down the river bank, and halloed across the stream, to the

Johnnies, who immediately answered; and one of them, bolder than the

rest, ran down to the edge of the water and asked what I would have.

Without answering his question, I fired a shot at him, from my rifle,

putting my sight up to eight hundred yards. It seemed a long time going,

but presently the rebel stooped to dodge the whistling bullet, and I saw

that I had over shot; so I aimed again, and discharged my piece, holding

this time full on his head. He was standing erect when I did so, holding

to a willow bush, with his left hand, and his gun in his right; and

after a long time the ball reached its destination, and I had the

satisfaction to see the Johnny tumble headlong on the sand, his gun

flying several steps from him. I then had it hot and heavy for a while.

His company, concealed by the woods on their side, made the balls rattle

on the bank where I was, cutting the trees up cruelly, but doing no

further harm, for I was hidden in a deep ravine where I was perfectly

safe; and from which I could fire on them leisurely, whenever I got a

good "sight."

After having my own fun with them for an hour, I took the road to

Colonel Cliffs', on Sail creek. He was a Colonel in our army, and I was

told, at one time was on General Burnside's staff. He was at that time

away from home, on duty; but I was hospitably welcomed by his family. I

stopped here for two or three different nights, on the last being hunted

out by fifteen or twenty rebels; I fortunately, however, received notice

of their coming before they got in sight of the house, and moved my

quarters promptly.

While in that part of East Tennessee, I was fortunate enough to hear a

real, heartfelt sermon, preached in favor of the Union; and the services

were closed with an ardent prayer for the President of the United

States, his advisers and counsellors; for Congress and the success and

welfare of our armies in the field. There was no milk and water, nor

soft solder about it; but it was a real old fashioned, upright,

square-toed Union sermon. The preacher was an old, white-haired man, and

his crowded congregation were, for most part, of venerable age. The

meeting took place after night, and as there was danger of it being

disturbed or broken up by straggling rebels, I was invited to be

present. Every man was armed; and this meeting took place in a country

where some men say there were no Union men!

From this neighborhood I went to Chattanooga, which was now being

invested by the army of the Cumberland. On the north side of the river

was Colonel Wilder's famous brigade, and I reported to the Colonel, and

was sent by him with a dispatch to Bridgeport, where General Rosecrans

was supposed to be. I had walked since morning from above the mouth of

Soddy creek, a distance of thirty-three miles; and the same evening I

started from the camp before Chattanooga, to Bridgeport, a distance of

fifty-four miles, over a rough mountain road. At Bridgeport I found the

General, and reported to him, and learned that the cavalry were a long

way in the advance of the infantry, and that it would be impossible for

me to overtake them; so, after receiving orders to "knock around loose,"

I put out over Raccoon mountains. These mountains are the lower or

southern range of the Allagheny mountains, and are high, steep and

rugged, while lower down the country, they are called the Sand

mountains. It is a ridge of a very irregular shape, and extends from a

point where the Tennessee forces its way between it and Walden's ridge,

on the north side, to Blountville, Alabama. Its many recesses and deep

forests have always made it a constant place of resort for bushwhackers.

In it is the celebrated Nickajack cave, one of the largest in the United

States. Over this mountain a part of the army had already toiled, and

the road was strewn with wrecks of wagons, splintered wheels, broken

harness, crippled horses left to die, and poor broken down men who were

unable to keep up in the impetuous march that would allow of no delay.

On they were toiling over the mountain toward Trenton, in the hope of

overtaking their commands at that place; but I fear it was a vain hope

for some of them, for they seemed very much exhausted.

Trenton is a small town in Georgia, and is the county seat of Dade

county. It is situated in a fine valley between Raccoon mountain on the

west, and Lookout mountain on the east; and the valley is watered by

Lookout river, and several creeks. Here General Reynolds was encamped,

and I slept there till morning, and then pushed on for the advance. I

passed Sheridan's division, and the next was General Negley's command.

Learning from General Lytle, of Sheridan's division, that General Negley

was to lead the advance, I concluded to report to him for duty, and

found his division encamped on Lookout river, in the valley between

Lookout and Raccoon mountains, at the foot of Johnson's crook, a narrow

and meandering defile that led up the precipitous sides of Lookout

mountain to Stevens' gap. It was a terrible undertaking to put an army

up into that gap, as a handful of men might defend it against a host. It

was held by Wharton, with a Division of cavalry, mostly Texans; and

Negley was to scale the mountain with his Division and take possession

of it. General Stanley was hovering on the enemy's communications far

down in Georgia, in the neighborhood of Alpine, Broomtown, and other

points, almost, and at one particular time, quite in rear of Lafayette;

and at the same time, Gen. McCook, with his corps, was toiling over

Lookout at Niels' gap, between the cavalry and Thomas' corps and

Stevens' gap, his being the right of our infantry. Reynolds crossed over

with his Division, if I remember rightly, at Doherty's gap, while

Crittenden's corps moved up the railroad around the north end of the

mountain, and General Wagner continued to threaten Chattanooga in front

with Wilder's and Minty's brigades of cavalry. Chattanooga lays in the

wide end of a Y, formed by Lookout on the west, and Pigeon mountains on

the east; the north end of Lookout rising about one mile and a half from

the west side of the town. Pigeon mountain is a spur of Lookout, which

projects itself over to the Tennessee, about four miles east of

Chattanooga. For about one half its length, it retains the name of

Pigeon mountain; while the north end of it is called Missionary Ridge.

In the Pigeon mountains are three gaps, besides the one right at its

junction with Lookout, the most southern of which is Bluebird gap, the

middle being called Dug gap, while the most northern is known McCowan's

gap; and the intermediate valley between these two mountains is named

Maclamore's cove. It is, at Dug gap, about nine miles wide, running to a

point at the south end, while at the north end, at Chattanooga, it is

about five and a half or six miles in width. The railroads running from

Chattanooga to Knoxville and to Atlanta, pass through Mission Ridge at

the north end; after which one keeps on up the Tennessee to Knoxville,

while the other turns down on the east side of the ridge to Lafayette,

the first point to which the enemy was compelled to retreat, and which

is situated about six miles east of Dug gap, bearing a little south.

The reader will bear in mind that I knew nothing of the plan of the

campaign, beyond what was developed on the field, and what was patent to

all. I had passed in two days from our left, near Cottonport, Tenn.,

where I saw a part of Minty's brigade, of the 2d Division of cavalry,

down to Chattanooga, where was Colonel Wilder's famous brigade, with

General Wagner, and some force of infantry and artillery, busily engaged

in shelling the place; thence to Bridgeport, where the commanding

General was with a few troops, just preparing to go to Trenton, then

already in the hands of Reynolds' Division; I also passed the 33d Ohio

on the opposite side of the river, and saw Crittenden's troops ferrying

the stream about the mouth of Battle creek; and from the top of Raccoon

beheld the most of our center and right encamped opposite the respective

gaps, where they were to scale Lookout mountain, and from whence they

were to be hurled like an avalanche down, down from the giddy hights of

that cloud-capped range in resistless columns into the valley, where

they were to deploy in line, and sweep across upon the unprotected flank

of the enemy, who were then in full retreat. The plan was certainly

projected by a master mind, and had it been properly executed, would

have proven the death blow of Bragg's army. After having gained his

object, it _seemed_ to be the intention of the General to draw his men

in quietly, and without bloodshed, into the fortifications around

Chattanooga; and had the entire command been properly handled, nothing

could have transpired to thwart the design.

General Negley began his ascent of the mountain early in the morning of

the 9th of September, I believe, and by noon had his whole command

camped on top of the mountain, and here he sent me out to reconnoiter.

It was a pretty long and dangerous tramp, but I made it safely, and

discovered that Wharton's command was on the opposite side of the gap.

The advance of the division was soon followed by the balance of Thomas'

corps, and at the same time Gen. McCook was scaling the heights at

Neil's gap, twelve miles below, and Crittenden's was moving round and

over the north end of the mountain, while Gen. Stanley was threatening

La Fayette from Broom Town valley, almost in rear of the rebel army. On

the 10th the army was fairly bivouacked in the clouds, on the top of

Lookout, which is very broad; in some places being four miles wide.

Heavy clouds are constantly hanging over and lapping down upon the

summit, and if it be a damp day, the top and sides are completely

enveloped in the lower clouds. It is not, however, a high mountain,

being only fourteen hundred and sixty feet perpendicular, I believe,

above the level of the Tennessee river.

I believe we rested a day on top, and scouted out the summit, while in

the afternoon Col. Stoughton with his regiment went down the gap to

drive back the enemy, in order that our engineers could repair the road.

I was sent out again toward night, and passing through Stoughton's

command and the rebel skirmish line at a dead run under fire of both

sides, I gained unharmed the top of a very high spur of Lookout. I was

aided in this by the dust raised by the rebel cavalry, while the fire

was going on, and by the darkness after the fight was over. I clambered

over cliffs during the night, to gain the top, over which, next morning,

I could not look without getting on my hands and knees. It was risky

work, but it was in a good cause, and was of advantage to the service,

which was enough. At the first crowing of the chickens I was on my feet,

waiting for light enough to see the valley below. The view extended all

over Maclamore's Cove, and is one of the finest landscapes I ever

beheld. Far to the left--perhaps sixteen or eighteen miles--could be

seen the hights around Chattanooga, while directly in front was the

range called Pigeon mountain, together with McCowan's gap, Dug gap, and

Bluebird gap--all clearly revealed by the light in the east. I had a

splendid signal glass with which I could see very minute objects in Dug

gap, and I discovered that it was well defended by rifle pits and

artillery--two batteries being distinctly visible; while in rear of the

gap rose a hill that thoroughly overlooked it, and on the crown of this

hill was an extensive earthwork, running its whole length, and I

counted within it sixteen guns. On the side of this hill I could see a

great many brush shanties, with light, fleecy smoke rising above them,

thus clearly indicating that they were occupied.

From the top of the mountain I descended by a very precipitous and rocky

ravine, the bed of which in the wet season was a roaring torrent, but

now shrunk to a little babbling brook, that found its source on the top

of the mountain at some boggy springs I had passed. At the foot of the

mountain I discovered a house nearly at the mouth of the gorge. I made

for it, at first, with the intention of quizzing the people, to see what

they knew about the enemy's movements; but when within a few hundred

yards of the place, I discovered a man sitting in the hall or porch,

which lay between the wings. He was leaning back, with his right leg

thrown over his left knee, while opposite him, and leaning against the

other wall, sat a beautiful young lady. I knew he was a Texan by his

free and easy lounging style.

Running noiselessly in the bed of the ravine, under the cover of its

bank, I stepped up out of it behind a huge tree, about sixty yards from

the house. Now, if I shot the fellow there, the woman would take

conniptions, so I thought I would scare him out, and then shoot him. I

stepped back into the ravine, and hid myself, and then fired a shot in

the air, and it had the desired effect. He rose, and walking out to

where his horse was tied, picked up his bridle, and began to put it on.

I got up behind my tree again, and shouted: "Don't you put that bridle

on that horse!" He paid no attention, but as he approached the animal's

head I recognized him. His name was Bowers, and he had served with me in

Texas. Leisurely he adjusted his bridle, even taking time to buckle the

throat-latch. Again I shouted to him to "put down that bridle," but he

paid no attention to me whatever.

As he stepped to the side of his horse, I ordered him not to mount; but

slowly, and without the least excitement, he swung himself into the

saddle. I wanted to save him, and so I cried "Halt!" loud enough to be

heard half a mile; but he turned quietly from me, as if to show his

contempt for danger, and I was compelled to fire on him, or allow him to

escape to the enemy, and report. Taking a good rest, against a tree, I

fired full on his back; and we were in such close proximity, that I

could see the hole made by the bullet. His horse sprang off into the

woods, but he clung to the saddle, although in the agonies of death.

Hearing others on the opposite side of the house, I at once began to

play officer, and deploy skirmishers at "double quick;" and so

completely successful was the ruse, that the rebels did not await the

development of my plans, but skedaddled as rapidly as possible in the

direction of Dug gap, taking with them the wounded man, whom they left

at the next house, where he died.

I missed getting his horse, which was a very fine one; as the

intelligent animal, with his dying rider, ran steadily along with the

horses rode by the others for over a mile, and until they reached the

house indicated, where the wounded man was left to die. I was at the

house an hour afterward, but found that the horse and equipments had

been taken off, and that an ambulance had also been sent for the body,

and that it, too, had been conveyed to the rebel camp.

After this, I hurried over to the road by which our army was to descend

the rugged mountain, and found Col. Stoughton's regiment in the valley,

where they had skirmished the night before, and then prepared my report

for the General, in writing, and forwarded it to him from the skirmish

lines.

_CHAPTER XXVIII._

BATTLES OF DUG GAP AND CHICKAMAUGA.

We had not been skirmishing more than an hour, before the army began to

pour down the steep, rocky, dusty road. On they came, winding to and

fro, down the serpentine road, now enveloped in clouds of fog, then

emerging from the mist, their bright arms and brass trappings glittering

in the sun; now submerged beneath a dense cloud of dust, they would

again remain hidden for a time, till it was lifted off by a passing

breeze, and again the mighty army, as if by magic, would stand out in

full view before the beholder, martialing for the fray below.

The rebels beheld them in terror, and they fled in confusion in the

direction of Dug gap, leaving only a small cavalry force to skirmish

with our advance. Gen. Negley then pushed a regiment or two out on the

road, as far as Davis' cross roads, to feel the enemy, and ascertain his

position. The reconnoissance was gallantly conducted--the rebels

disputing every foot of the ground; and as soon as the reconnoitering

party began to fall back, they hung upon its rear, until we gained our

old position, at the foot of Lookout mountain.

Early in the morning the General advanced with his whole division upon

Dug gap, when the enemy's cavalry again disputed our progress, and the

same ground was once more fought over, till we reached Davis' cross

roads, at which place our army rested for an hour. The men being

refreshed, pushed on again for the gap, where the rebels were found in

overwhelming force. An engagement at once ensued, which lasted for

several hours; but as the enemy was soon strongly re-enforced, Gen.

Negley ordered a retreat, and his men were drawn off, slowly and

quietly, one brigade at a time. Slowly the artillery was taken off the

field, occasionally halting to throw a few shells into the advancing

enemy, till finally we regained our old camp.

Our loss in this skirmish was about forty killed, wounded and missing;

but we lost nothing else; so leisurely were our forces withdrawn, that

the teamsters stopped to reload a wagon which was upset. The 19th

Illinois, and 18th Ohio Infantry, did noble work in this encounter,

fighting at short range, and repelling two or three handsome charges.

They killed thirty odd men, at a single volley, near the gap, all of

whom were left on the ground by the enemy.

As we were proceeding toward the gap, I was frequently far in advance of

the column, looking out for ambuscades, and performing the other

delicate duties which devolve upon a scout; and while reconnoitering, I

discovered a stone wall to the left of the road, which looked like a

splendid place of concealment, and I accordingly jumped behind a tree

and scrutinized it carefully, to discover signs of the enemy, but for

some time I was unsuccessful in my efforts. Presently, however, I saw a

man partly concealed by a clump of willow bushes, at a little distance

from the wall; and observing him closely, I saw that he was motioning

with his hand, as if to keep men down. In a little while I discovered

another, and then another, until I saw four men crowded under the

bushes, when I opened on them with a few shots from my Spencer rifle,

and as they were but about two hundred yards off, I soon made it too hot

for them, and they hustled down to the wall, when I lit out to report

the ambuscade to General Negley. He immediately ran down a section of

artillery into a position that commanded the wall, and then led a charge

in person over the intervening hill, and down upon the rebels, who

delivered a hasty volley before our men raised the hill, and then fled

in confusion, leaving several of their dead on the field. I chased one

horse, with his rider, over a bluff bank, about twenty feet high, into a

creek; the rider sticking to his animal all the time, till he struck the

water. The horse mired in the quicksand, and the man was compelled to

leap from his back, and leaving him, gain the opposite bank, where he

leaped a fence and disappeared in a corn field, while I was loading my

gun. I then took the fellow's horse and saddle, and broke his gun and

threw it over the fence after him, though I am not aware that he even

stopped to think about it, much less to gather up the pieces.

Our artillery was managed with great precision, and the enemy must have

lost heavily. We occupied the ground next day, and we had a considerable

number of their dead to bury--the bodies having been abandoned on the

field.

A rather amusing incident occurred just before the engagement. I was on

a scout up to the very foot of the gap. The rebels, for a long time,

refused to show themselves, seemingly to draw us up into the gap, while

they held another force that I had reported, ready to pounce upon our

flank, when their masked batteries in front were to riddle our column

with shells. Near the gap lived a venerable widow, who had two beautiful

daughters, all Union, or at least so they told me, when they thought me

a _rebel_. Her house stood within easy shooting distance of the rebel

sharp-shooters, and inside their picket line, although they had no post

on the road. I went into the house, and told the old lady that I was

very tired, and wanted to rest awhile, and she told me to lay down on a

bed, but I preferred the floor. I was only doing this in order to see

what I could find out; and I had been there but a little while before

her little son ran up to the door and said:

"Mother, mother, here comes an officer."

I rolled over carelessly and asked where he was, and he told me in a

whisper that he was out at the end of the house. I was after him in a

moment, and I jumped over the fence between him and his men, and walked

stealthily along behind him, until raising a little hill, he spied our

pickets, about half a mile off. He quickly concealed himself in a fence

corner, till he had taken a good look, then turning to go back to his

own lines, he met me, with my rifle raised and my finger on the trigger.

"Just take the road before me, sir," was all I said.

He raised his hat very politely, bowed low, and remarked:

"Why, really, sir, I am very much surprised to see you here."

Finding himself a prisoner, he took it with the best possible grace. I

allowed him to keep his sword until he reached the post, and let him

walk by me. He was such a perfect gentleman that I hated to turn him

over to the hard fate of a prisoner; but my good manners never saved

_me_ when I was in _their_ hands, and so I consoled myself with the

thought that he might have had better luck. After I reached camp with

him, I ascertained that he was a second lieutenant on Colonel Corbyn's

staff.

From some unaccountable cause, the army was detained in the vicinity of

Stevens' gap for five days; and during this interval, the enemy was

reinforced by Longstreet's Corps, and other troops from Virginia.

During the morning of Saturday, the 19th of September, little was done

except closing up the trains, and getting them over the mountains,

before it was discovered that Bragg was attempting to flank us on the

left, when instantly our army was put in motion toward Chattanooga, to

prevent him from accomplishing his object. Our march was soon discovered

by the rebels; and now began the greatest foot race the eye of man ever

beheld. My duty often caused me to ascend high points of the ridges and

hills, to see how the enemy were progressing; and wherever they moved,

the tell-tale dust would disclose their operations. Each army was intent

on gaining their fortified ground near Chattanooga; and we had an even

start, and if anything, the shortest road--our army marching down on the

west, and that of the rebels on the east side of the Chickamauga river.

Great heavy clouds of dust hovered in the air, revealing the course of

each army, through its entire length; as well as disclosing the

movements of the smallest bodies of troops.

About ten o'clock in the morning, Bragg discovered it would be

impossible to flank our army, and prevent us from gaining the desired

point, and immediately began to close with us. His artillery thundering

on our flank, gave notice of his intentions; and General Rosecrans

accepted the challenge, and soon our batteries were answering shot for

shot, and shell for shell.

This artillery dueling was very destructive for some time, particularly

on our right, where the guns thundered with uninterrupted fury. Guns

were dismounted, caissons blown up, wheels splintered into fragments,

horses torn almost limb from limb, while the mangled gunners lay

scattered in all directions and wounded in every manner. Still the work

of death went on. When the heavy shot failed to strike among the

gunners, it was only to pass among the boughs over their heads, and by

splintering them, carry additional destructive elements into the ranks

of the supporting infantry. The shells, shrieking through the air, burst

among the men, and horses, sweeping down whole squads of the one, or

teams of the other; and when a caisson was struck, the effect was

terrific. The vehicles would be shattered to fragments, while the powder

of the shells would ignite, and throw them in every direction, bursting

as they went, and sweeping scores of heroes to untimely graves.

While this was transpiring on our right, the heavens appeared rent by a

sudden crash, and the earth trembled beneath a steady, rolling sound.

The battle had began on the left, and the musketry had opened in

dreadful earnest. Peal, on peal, the sound was borne to us, on the

right, by the wind, almost drowning the heavy roar of artillery near us,

which of itself was well nigh deafening.

Rapidly General Rosecrans shifted his troops from right to left, to meet

each new assault of the enemy. Each time, as the roll of musketry raised

above the sound of the cannon, it told us that the battle continued to

surge to the left, and that the lines of our army were being stretched

to the greatest possible length. Stout hearts began to feel a misgiving,

and brave men watched the enemy with wary eye.

McCook's corps, on the right, held its ground. Battery after battery of

rebel guns had been silenced, but they had not yet given back, keeping

continually closed in upon our men; and in the evening they charged upon

Van Cleve's division, pouring in three terrible volleys; but they met

with a fearfully bloody repulse, and were compelled to fall back to

their old position, after which they soon began to retire from the field

they had occupied.

[Illustration: "The punishment he endured must have been severe; for

sometimes he would be thrown three or four feet up in the air, and then

fall back into the cart with a thump that made him roar again."--=Page

330.=]

Concentration on our left was the next movement in order; for on that

wing the battle was yet raging with unabated fury. Our lines were faced

to the East, with the right to the South, and left to the North; and in

rear of this were our teams, and non-combatants; and these were hurried

off in hot haste, toward Chattanooga.

Sunday morning, the 20th, revealed to us the enemy in a new and stronger

position, and much nearer to Chattanooga; and at daylight, the contest

burst forth again with redoubled fury, on our devoted left--General

Thomas this time taking the offensive. For hours the contest continued,

without decided advantage to either side, when suddenly the enemy

concentrated in tremendous force, on McCook's corps, rushing impetuously

forward and driving it flying from the field. God grant that I may never

again behold such a scene as I there witnessed. The assaulting column

charged to within sixty or eighty paces of our lines, under a fire so

murderous that they halted, and wavered, at least five minutes, when,

reinforced by another line, the foremost men were literally driven upon

us. At this critical juncture, our ammunition failed, and the enemy was

upon us, pouring in withering volleys upon our almost defenseless ranks,

so that no troops in the world could have withstood the assault. Panic

stricken, the corps rushed to the rear; but they were true men, and

heroic leaders were there to rally them, and thrice they formed, and

turned upon the advancing foe, who forbore to pursue so determined an

enemy. Most heroically did the fugitives cluster around their battle

flags, with tear-streaming eyes, fondly caressing the banner they were

now helpless to defend.

Here and there a gallant color sergeant would halt and raise aloft the

ensign of liberty, shouting out to the men not to abandon their

colors--not to give up the flag--to remember Stone river, and not to

yield, for our troops would yet be victorious, as they had been on many

a hotly-contested field. Here and there an officer pleaded frantically

with the flying men; now using words of hope and encouragement, or

orders and menaces, as either were demanded by different characters;

calling upon them to remember their country and her honor, to reflect

that they were Americans, and must fight to save their banners. They

could not resist the appeal, and three times they rallied and waited

determinedly for the enemy; each time in better order and determination,

standing ever in well-formed ranks, until ordered to take up a new

position. Nobly did those color sergeants discharge their duty that day,

not one of whom yielded his banner, till he had first fallen beneath it.

Captain Johnson, now Colonel of the 13th Indiana Cavalry, contributed

much toward rallying the men; as did also Captain Rockhold, of the 15th

Pennsylvania Cavalry, and many other officers both of the staff and

line, whose names I do not now remember. The last man I recollect seeing

on the field--and I was one of the last to leave it--was Major-General

McCook, riding even into the thickest of the enemy's fire; and it indeed

appears miraculous that he escaped with his life. While this was

transpiring on the right, the thunder of battle still reached us from

the left. What befell the fugitives now, I know not; for, thinking they

were taking a wrong road, I left them, and going immediately to the

left, reported to Gen. Thomas for duty. He held his ground firmly until

toward night, when, during a lull in the battle, he began to retreat.

His corps was in the best of spirits, and full of confidence in the

General.

Deliberately every man supplied himself with a rail--whole brigades

facing to a fence for this purpose--each fellow shouldering the biggest

one he could lay hands on; and then the brigade would reform and resume

its march, the men laughing and joking each other over their heavy work

as gayly as if they had not seen thousands of their comrades fall that

day. The enemy pursued, but the corps with its portable breastworks was

invincible. Halting in a noted gap in Mission Ridge, the troops put

their rails to use by raising, in a few moments, an effective barricade.

The General made his headquarters just in the rear of the gap, and

under short artillery range of the enemy; and he maintained his

position, in spite of the rebel shells, which were whistling over his

head for hours together; and here he was reinforced by two or three

brigades of Granger's reserves, and renewed the contest.

On the 21st our line reached around the crest of Mission Ridge,

something like a half-moon, with the bow toward the enemy. The battle,

however, was not severe on that day, as the rebels appeared

disconcerted. They made several feints upon our lines, but our General

was always ready for them, and checked them at every point. At times

their artillery would send shell after shell shrieking over our heads,

as if determined to frighten us from our position; but they fired badly,

as if they had lost their best gunners in the late terrible contest. At

times they would pour volley after volley of musketry upon us, but did

but little damage, as the balls either struck our barricade, or flew

harmlessly over us, and clattered among the trees. Their next ruse was

to try to turn our right with their cavalry, and it was said that

Forrest led the charge in person. Scaling the end of the ridge, where

our right was posted, they charged furiously upon the 21st Ohio

infantry, and were handsomely repulsed, without loss to our side; while

eight of the enemy fell dead within a few feet of our lines. The 21st

followed them with an uninterrupted fire from their revolving rifles,

until the rebels were driven from the hill. This was about the closing

demonstration; and that night the army quietly retreated to Chattanooga,

leaving their camp fires burning brightly, to deceive the rebels.

General Thomas did not leave the field until all had gone from the scene

of the late conflict, but the rear guard; and about midnight, part of

General Stanley's force appeared upon the ground, to cover the retreat.

While the battle had been raging, they had been hotly engaged with the

enemy's cavalry under Forrest, and had also been beset with infantry.

Their duty had been of a most dangerous nature, and was performed in a

gallant manner. Our cavalry lost many daring men during the battle,

chiefly, however, in killed and wounded, though they lost a few in

prisoners.

Noiselessly the army marched to Chattanooga that night. Not a sound was

to be heard save the rumbling of the trains or the occasional word of

command. When the troops reached the town the whole aspect was changed.

Uncertainty was now certainty. We had gained the point for which the

campaign was planned and for which we had struggled so hard.

Determination could be read in every face. Filing along the breastworks

the rebels had constructed, men and officers took off their coats and

engaged in strengthening their position.

I now saw General Rosecrans for the first time since I left Bridgeport.

He looked wearied and care-worn, but hopeful and determined. I spoke to

him and wanted to burn the jail where I had been confined with Andrews'

men, but he refused permission, telling me it would raise too much smoke

over the town and impede the aim of the artillery. His countenance did

not change till he rode along by some familiar regiments and saw their

thinned ranks and worn looks, when he appeared ready to burst into

tears; at that moment the men raised a hearty cheer for "Rosecrans,"

when he rallied from his momentary weakness, and galloped to the

outworks in front of the town. I heard many a man and officer swear that

the town should never be surrendered--and it never was; while the rebel

columns were soon hurled, flying back for Mission Ridge, a position they

deemed impregnable.

_CHAPTER XXIX._

PERSONAL ADVENTURES DURING THE BATTLE.

I had some personal adventures during the battle, two or three of which

may be worth the reader's perusal. The lamented General Lytle, who was

killed in the second day's fight at Chickamauga, held the right of

McCook's corps most of the day; and when he saw the evening closing in

on him he sent me down to the left, telling me to post on a mile or so

and see how everything stood, saying that the service was of the utmost

importance. This was on the 19th.

Away I went, first down in front of the rebel lines, and in full view of

them, till I saw they were preparing to advance, when, dashing across

the open place, I came over to our own front. I turned down it to a long

break in the line; I then followed the general direction of our front

for half a mile, when I reached one of our own batteries which I found

to be literally dismantled. The caissons were blown into fragments, the

guns dismounted, and the gunners were scattered, dead and wounded, thick

around it. Poor fellows! they had been stricken down at their posts,

torn and mangled, by shell and grape.

I had no time to stop, as much depended on my diligence; perhaps I held

the lives of many men in my hands. I rode on, some three-quarters of a

mile further, still seeing no troops, when I turned back. I passed the

dismantled battery again, and stopped a moment to see if I could

identify it, when one of the wounded men feebly called out:

"Soldier, cover me up; cover me up; I am cold; oh! so cold."

The supplicatory tones were hard to resist, but I saw the enemy

advancing, and hastened back to the General. As I reached our line

again, I hailed a body of troops with:

"What brigade is this?"

"Third brigade of Van Cleve's division," was the hurried response.

I had barely passed it when a double crash of musketry told me that they

had closed in upon the advancing enemy. I now put my mare out to her

best speed, to pass the next brigade; and in answer to my hail, they

shouted: "second brigade of Van Cleve's division;" and I had hardly

passed when a heavy volley of the enemy's musketry whistled over the

heads of our men, and was immediately answered by the brigade.

The firing behind me was now both rapid and destructive. As I passed on,

hailing the next command, I found it was the first brigade of Van

Cleve's division, and as I had just reached the end of its line, it,

too, joined in the furious contest, with a deafening crash of musketry.

The firing, now, for a short time, was intense, and the work of death

terrific; but the enemy gave way, and retired to their old position.

I reported to General Lytle the condition of things on his left, and as

the enemy remained quiet for a little time, Van Cleve now closed up the

gaps in the line. Before this change of position, however, I was again

sent over toward the enemy, to see what they were doing; and I reached

the creek in the thicket, and crept on my hands and knees until I got

close enough to hear them talk.

"There, that's right," said one fellow.

"Hand me that glass," said another.

On raising up and looking through a fence, I saw they were turning a

battery on General Lytle's headquarters; and at once, without heeding

their shout to halt, I ran at my best speed for the foot-log over the

creek. A few shots behind me had a wonderful effect in accelerating my

pace, so that I never ran better than at that time. I sprang on my horse

just as the Johnnies leaped out of the brush on the other side of the

creek; but before they had time to fire I was off like a shot, for the

hill. I at once dismounted, and leaping over the breastworks, was met

by the General, who asked me what the rebels were about.

"They are," said I, "turning a battery so as to rake your position"--and

I had hardly uttered the word "position," when a shell from it passed

whistling between our heads. The shock caused by the current staggered

the General about six feet back, and jarred me, creating a sensation

such as would be produced by a stroke on the ear by a light board.

The same day, in the morning, I was passing our ammunition train, and

saw on the right of it, a man sitting on a horse in an open field,

scrutinizing the train closely, up and down, and around. He was in our

uniform, and bareheaded, when I observed him, but I soon perceived that

he held a white hat in his hand. I at once concluded that if he was a

_Yankee_ he had no business there; and if a _rebel_ he had still less,

so I "went for him," as the soldiers express it; that is, I went to kill

him, if I could not take him prisoner. He saw me coming, and fled to a

barn on the hill at some distance from us, and near a clump of timber. I

was about two hundred yards from the train, and could not follow

directly after him, as the creek was wide, deep, and had high, steep

banks; but some distance down was a ford, for which I made, and when I

crossed it on the jump, I saw one of our Lieutenant-Colonels, a Captain,

and a colored servant, watering their horses in the creek. I rode up on

the hill about a hundred yards, and the barn was still about fifty yards

from me, when about thirty rebels rode out from behind the building, and

out of the woods, and fired a volley at me. I was not hurt, but

convinced that I was too close to them, and wheeled and went back in a

rather precipitate manner. The Colonel heard the firing, and he and his

party ran off down toward the train; but as I rode the best horse, I

soon overtook them and reported the case to him. He was, fortunately,

one of General McCook's staff. I told him that it was plainly the

intention of the rebels to assault the train and blow it up; and this,

five resolute men could have easily done, without danger to themselves.

I now went to the friendly shelter of a rail fence close by, and had a

lively time with the rebs till the infantry got in sight, when they

mounted their horses and left; and even then they could have destroyed

the train had they known the true state of affairs; but every now and

then I would fire a shot and give a yell, and I suppose they thought I

had plenty of help close by.

On the second day, I was with Lytle's brigade until after the General

was killed. He had sent me a long way out before the brigade

skirmishers, to see for him if the enemy were coming. While on this

service, I discovered an officer of the rebel army hid behind a bush

that concealed him from our skirmishers; but I was about parallel with

him, and of course, had a fair sight, and improved it. I fired at him

three times, as fast as I could shoot a Spencer rifle; and the third

bullet brought him down, his horse galloping away to a party of mounted

men still further back in the timber. I hurried on in the woods, dodging

from tree to tree, and from one hiding place to another, until I saw the

enemy's skirmish line, which was advancing slowly, at the same time

keeping well "dressed;" and instantly I was off to inform General Lytle

that they were coming. On the line I saw a staff officer, to whom I gave

my information, and who was going to the General, and he promised to

report. I then took my place in the line of skirmishers, and as the

rebel skirmishers came in sight, we made the fire so hot that they soon

fell back to their ranks, while we, ourselves, were ordered into our

breastworks.

As soon as we turned to retire to our breastworks, we were beset by a

heavy fire from the enemy's columns; and one Colonel made his men get

down on all fours, and no doubt saved many a life by this maneuver.

For some reason, our first line of breastworks was abandoned after the

delivery of the second volley; and as we took our position behind the

second line, I placed myself behind a large chestnut tree, the top of

which had been broken off by a storm, and near which I had tied my mare

some time before. As I felt perfectly secure, while the rebels were

coming I examined my ammunition, and laid it out on the ground by my

side, and I found I had just thirty-three rounds.

[Illustration: "And Jack Cook, of the 37th Indiana, discharged his

piece, and sent a bullet through his heart, and he fell dead at our

feet, without a groan or a struggle."--=Page 333.=]

When the rebels arrived within eighty yards, I began firing; and our men

held them so closely there, that at one time they seemed on the point of

breaking and flying from the field. As for myself, I aimed every shot at

their belt-plates, and before they drove us, I had fired all my

ammunition but two shots; and at that time I got a cartridge fast in my

gun. A soldier was at that instant passing me, and I caught him by the

leg, and without seeing who he was, I asked him for his ramrod. He

jerked it out, and threw it almost directly in my face, which made me a

little mad and caused me to look up, when I beheld our army flying in

the utmost disorder down the hill on which they were posted. I knocked

the cartridge hull out of my gun; and already the enemy were seizing

prisoners, and clubbing their muskets on such as were stubborn enough to

resist. Hastily I fired my two remaining charges, almost in the faces of

the advancing rebs, and I raised my gun to break it over a tree, when

thoughts of prison hardships flashed across my mind, and I resolved to

run for my life. The first part of the race was down hill, and I made

good time. The air seemed literally full of flying bullets. I could hear

them whistle close to my ear, down by my sides, and over my head; could

hear them strike the ground behind me, and see them strike before me,

while scores whistled, as it appeared to me, two hundred feet in the

air. Far ahead I could see my comrades falling; and around me others,

and yet others were biting the dust; and well I knew that the work of

death was going on behind me also.

It was a terrible race, but I made it in safety, though I still feel the

effects of the over-exertion in my chest. It appears, when I reflect

upon it, almost miraculous that I escaped death.

As I had sent my rifle into Chattanooga, by Captain Rockwell, of the

15th Pennsylvania cavalry, I carried a Springfield gun during the rest

of the fight, but only got five shots. It was in the first part of this

charge that General Lytle so gloriously fell--his body pierced with

three bullets, and his sword dripping with the blood of the foe. When

he saw his noble brigade break he drew his blade and rushed upon the

enemy, but only to yield up his life, a precious sacrifice upon the

altar of liberty, dying as he had lived, for his country.

This ended my adventures in this fearfully bloody struggle--one in which

our men exhibited most heroic qualities, and which gained to us, in the

end, the ground we fought for, though the cost was frightful; and it was

soon after, as every reader knows, followed by stupendous results.

Long will I remember the proud look of defiance upon the face of every

man when once within the fortifications at Chattanooga. As they were

filing in the rebels reached the summit of Mission Ridge; and as they

advanced, in full line of battle, they sent up loud shouts of victory,

which were defiantly answered by our men, with cheer after cheer, as

defiant and proud as ever. Soon the rebels opened, with shot and shell,

upon every assailable point; but they were promptly answered, with

accuracy, by our artillery, and they declined to assault us in our

position, hoping to force a surrender through famine--a delusive

phantom, as they soon discovered to their cost.

_CHAPTER XXX._

WHEELER BADLY WHIPPED--A PERILOUS TRIP OVER THE MUSCLE SHOALS.

At Chattanooga I was invited, by General Crook, to go with him up the

Tennessee, as there was a prospect that Wheeler would make an attempt to

get in our rear with his cavalry. Such a movement, on the part of the

enemy, might well be viewed with trembling by every patriot; for, if our

communications were once cut, or even if only broken three or four days,

it would have compelled the surrender of the gallant army of the

Cumberland, then hemmed in within the fortifications of Chattanooga,

with only a single route for keeping supplies of ammunition and stores

to stand a siege until reinforced.

On the 23d and 24th of September, General Crook started, with the 2d

division of cavalry, to the vicinity of Washington, Tennessee, to

counteract, or check the intended raid, if possible. When he arrived at

Smith's Cross Roads, the general threw out pickets at every ford, for

miles up and down the river; but at Cotton Port the enemy planted

artillery and shelled our men back from the bank, and then commenced

crossing. As reinforcements were not to be had, the general could not

give Wheeler battle at that place; but collecting all his scattered

bands, as rapidly as possible, he prepared to fall upon the rear of

Wheeler's army. At the ford, the conflict was short and desperate; and,

as soon as Wheeler gained the north bank of the river, he marched

directly across the valley to the mountains, while General Crook pursued

him rapidly. Our force, although too small to fight the whole force of

the rebels, was still able to whip them on the raid, every time they

came upon their rear.

Among the first who crossed the Tennessee, with Wheeler's command, was

the rebel provost-marshal of Chattanooga, named William Ozier, and his

object was to conscript men on the north side of the river. Major

Matthews, of the 4th Ohio, had charge of the picket, and had given

orders not to fire on any small parties coming over, but I had not heard

the order. We had been picking them up, four or five at a time, and

making them prisoners without firing a gun; and but for the fact that

this party came over; and formed in line as they advanced, I suppose we

should have continued to do so. I watched them closely, as they came

toward us, and I thought I detected them drawing their guns for use,

stealthily. With the ring of Chickamauga fresh in my ears I may have

been a little nervous; but be that as it may, without waiting for

further developments, I raised my rifle and fired at the leader, killing

him instantly while the next fellow caught a bullet in the temple: and

then the firing became general, and the Johnnies, badly frightened,

wheeled their horses and rushed them back to the shore of the river. The

one who was shot in the head did not die. The ball struck the temple,

and passed around under the skin, to the opposite one, where it came

out--a fact which I learned from the farmer who took him out of the

river. On the body of the provost-marshal was fourteen hundred dollars;

but I took none of it. I laid him out decently, and handed him over to

the citizens of the vicinity for identification.

Gen. Crook's force, at that time, did not exceed three thousand five

hundred, while Wheeler had with him seven thousand; yet we whipped him

at Cumberland mountain, on the Sequatchie river, at McMinnville, and

saved Murfreesboro, and the railroad, and all our supplies; then again

overtook him at Shelbyville, whipped him--then forced the fugacious

rebel to a general engagement at Farmington, where he was whipped badly,

taking all his cannon, a portion of his train, and five hundred

prisoners; then we drove him from Pulaski, and overtook and defeated him

at Sugar creek, and sent him on the double quick over the Muscle shoals.

It was severe work; both parties displaying the most determined courage,

frequently contending in hand-to-hand encounters; indeed, I saw rebels

fighting with pistols when the carbines of our men would be thrust in

their faces. I got a good many good shots on this raid, and had some

narrow chances myself. On two occasions the rebels fired whole volleys

at me, at short range, while I would be trying to ascertain their

position for the General; and at Farmington, I was a target for three

pieces of artillery, loaded with grape--there being not another man

within cannon range. The grape struck around, over, and under me, but

still did not touch either myself or horse. In the same fight a fuse

shell struck immediately beneath my horse, but, although burning when it

struck, it did not explode.

At a little log school-house, before we reached Farmington, the rebels

made a very decided stand. I saw one fellow fighting from behind a tree,

his position being secure from our men, who were unable to get at him on

account of a fence which lay in front of him. I dismounted, and ran

behind a little tree that was near by, and, taking good aim, I shot him

in the side, and he fell, a dead man. But such affairs happen on every

battle field.

After Wheeler had been driven from Tennessee and Northern Alabama, the

second division, consisting of Wilder's Mounted Infantry, went to

Brownsboro, and was engaged in keeping the county clear of the enemy,

and in protecting railroad works.

The amount of suffering among the citizens, resulting from this raid,

was fearful. Everything eatable was seized by one or the other of the

armies. The scenes witnessed called forth pity for the little children,

who could not understand the nature of the calamity which had befallen

them; and I also commiserated a portion of the women; but by far the

larger number of the latter did not conduct themselves in a manner

calculated to excite sympathy. They were vindictive, and seized every

available occasion to manifest their ill nature. They were ever ready to

drive their husbands and sons into the war, and they need not have

expected much pity at our hands. Many, it is true, were always devotedly

loyal--were ready to contribute to the success of the nation--but they

did not constitute a majority.

While I was at Brownsboro, a dispatch came to Gen. Crook, by telegraph,

directed to Gen. Sherman, with a request to forward it without delay. It

was handed to me to carry to him, but none of us knew where he then was.

Capt. Kennedy found an article in an old rebel paper which stated that

he was at Corinth; but that was some time before, and we had no idea

which way he was marching. Capt. Starr, of the 2d Kentucky Cavalry, with

a squadron of men, went with me to Whitesburgh, on the Tennessee, ten

miles from Huntsville; and I there took a canoe and run down the river,

it being about two o'clock at night when I started on my lonely ride.

About fifteen miles below Whitesburgh, I heard a noise, as if a party of

men on the south bank were bailing out a ferry-boat; and, as I thought I

would have time to pass it before it could be got ready to cross, I

pushed on down. I could easily hear them coming as I proceeded, so that

I paddled my very best; but on they came, faster and faster; I did my

utmost, but still they gained on me; another stroke of their long

sweeps, and they would be on my canoe. It was a critical time, but

fortunately at this moment a man on the shore called out to them: "You

all look as if you were going down the river; you don't look like you

were coming here to me." I glanced over my shoulder, and there on the

bank, at the edge of the water, sat the Captain of a band of rebel

cavalry; while just above him I could see forty or fifty men with their

horses. There were six men in the boat, whom I saw distinctly--two at

the oars, one steering, and three standing gazing over the sides, at me.

They were so close on my canoe at this time, that I raised my hand to

catch the ferry-boat, in case she struck my little craft, to prevent her

from dragging me under.

When the Captain hailed, they headed a little more up stream, and she

missed my canoe about the length of my paddle. As they passed by, I

could see them watching me eagerly, but they said not a word; while I

plied my paddle with all my strength, and was soon out of their sight

amid the darkness. The gap I ran through between the boat and the

company on shore, was not more than thirty yards wide. I could not

possibly have passed it safely had I made the least possible noise with

my boat; but I approached them so quietly, that the party on shore did

not discover me until I was speeding past them.

A few miles above Decatur I was overtaken by daylight, and knowing very

well that the river was well picketed by the rebels all the way to

Tuscumbia, I did not try to travel, but pulled ashore under a steep

bluff, and hid my canoe under some overhanging willows, and hid myself

in a cleft in the rocks to sleep and rest till the next night. It was in

the latter part of October--about the 26th or 27th, I believe--and I had

rather a cold time of it, among the stones. During the day a company of

rebel cavalry rode along the top of the bluff, just over my head, but

they did not see me, and I rested well till dark, when I pushed out in

the stream and resumed my journey. I passed Decatur while the lights in

the houses were still burning, and as I rowed by the foot of the main

street, a single shot was fired on the bank--the flash of the gun being

toward me--though I did not know what they were shooting at, nor did I

call to inquire.

In the neighborhood of Lamb's ferry, just at the head of Muscle Shoals,

I laid down in the bottom of my boat to rest a little, as I was very

tired and sleepy. How long I slept I do not know,--not more than an

hour, I think--when I heard a chicken crow, and waking up, I found I was

floating by a house on the bank. I picked up my oar and began to paddle

leisurely on, too tired and sleepy to work hard, and in a short time I

passed another house. It was dark, to be sure, but still I could see

that it bore a striking resemblance to the first one. Two brothers, I

thought, live on adjoining plantations; or perhaps an old man and one of

his children, and have built houses alike. I still pulled on, but lo! in

a short time I passed another just like the other two. This was

unaccountable for a minute, but I remembered I had seen a big cottonwood

tree on the bank at each of the other houses, and now I thought of it,

they too were as the houses and fences--all, all exactly alike; what

could it mean? Was I bewitched? I started directly across the river, to

the opposite bank, resolved to leave a country where such sameness

prevailed. It savored too much of enchantment to suit me, so I would go

elsewhere; but as I approached the channel, I discovered that I was in a

big eddy, caused by an island on one side, and a sweeping curve in the

bank on the other, and that I had been floating around in a circle--how

long, I could not tell.

Shortly after I pulled ashore on an island, to pass another day, hiding

my canoe under the overhanging boughs, which projected far out over the

water, and lying down in my boat to sleep. After taking a long nap, I

was awakened by a rattling in the chains of my boat, and raising up and

peering over the gunwale, I espied a large, fat raccoon, reared up on

his hind legs, playing with the loose end of the chain, as it dangled

from the limb it was tied to. His look was astonishingly intelligent,

and he enjoyed the sport till the swinging of the iron hit him on the

nose, when he hustled off up the bank and was seen no more. Scarcely,

however, was he away, before a mink came trotting down to the end of my

boat, and cast an inquiring look into it; but one glance sufficed him,

and he was off like a shot.

Nothing more occurred to disturb me, till I discovered a company of

rebel cavalry on the north bank of the river. Nearly opposite where I

lay; on that side, was a house; and as the cavalry approached it, I saw

an old man bring an officer down to the water's edge, and point out to

him where I was hid; after which the latter rode back to the company,

when they all moved off down the river, and I began to flatter myself

that I should not be disturbed. Still, I thought it best to keep a good

look out for them, and I soon saw them about three-fourths of a mile

down the river. They came to the bank and I was satisfied now that

something was to be done. They dismounted, and six of them got into a

large canoe, and pushing off, set out toward me, coming a considerable

distance, when they appeared to be called back by the party on shore. A

brief consultation then ensued, and they again pushed out in the river;

but this time they steered below the end of the island, and again I was

almost ready to believe I would not be disturbed.

[Illustration: "When at the tree, they asked me if I had any confession

to make; but I replied I had none to make to them; and they then said,

if I desired to pray, they would allow me a few minutes to prepare for

eternity."--=Page 354.=]

In about half an hour I heard them paddling up the river on the

opposite side of the island, which was here very narrow. I watched them

closely, and discovered that they were not more than seventy-five yards

off, and coming rapidly; so, quickly loosening my boat, I pushed out in

the stream, and was away down the river. I put out all my strength until

I passed the men on the shore, and as I was sailing by at a safe

distance from them, they hailed me with the order, "Come ashore with

that boat;" but I could not see it in that light, and redoubled my

efforts at the paddle. I heard their guns, bang, bang, bang, in rapid

succession, but it was a useless waste of ammunition, for I was now

flying through one of the swiftest shoals on the Tennessee, and was out

of range with almost lightning speed.

The Muscle Shoals are forty miles long, and I was now in the head of

them. In some places the river is very wide--perhaps two miles--while in

other places, far more narrow, and there is a long series of cascades,

down which the water rushes foaming and roaring, dashing and thundering,

among the rocks--sometimes for miles--lashed into foam by its own

impetus, and then pouring over perpendicular falls, and breakers in the

rocky bed. It was a fearful ride in the dark, as several of the cascades

were five or six feet from top to bottom, and one, known as the "big

jump," was ten feet in perpendicular hight; or so, at least, I was

informed by men who followed boating over the shoals. The most dangerous

ride I had was by a point on the south side of the stream, called

Green's bluff. By running on that side, I avoided the highest part of

the "big jump;" and I made my way over it in safety, though not without

some bruises, and a thorough drenching.

At South Florence I saw innumerable camp fires, and was at a loss to

account for it. During the day, while laying up on an island, I heard

the reverberations of cannon on the water, and now here was a camp in

full view--perhaps the very one I was searching after. I was in a swift,

but not turbulent part of the shoals, and I determined at once to

reconnoiter, and therefore pulled my boat around, in full view of the

camp fires--some of which were near the water's edge--and discovered

the gray uniform of the sentries, and I was, of course, off again in the

distance, knowing that I had passed an army of rebels.

I well knew that at least a portion of our army was near them, or why

the firing I had heard? A little further down and I discovered the piers

of a railroad bridge, the woodwork of which had been burned; and I felt

satisfied that it was on the road leading to Tuscumbia. Still, however,

I did not see any suitable place to land, till a long way below that

point, when I discovered a narrow road leading out from the water's

edge, and up to it I pulled my little craft, resolved to find a house

and get some information about the movements of troops in that part of

the country.

While hunting for a house, I heard the beating of a single drum off in

the distance; and shortly after, followed a "reveille," but far away

from where I was. Advancing carefully to reconnoiter, I discovered a

picket just before daylight, and stealing up toward him, behind a thick

growth of weeds--for he was near a fence, the corners of which had not

been trimmed--I was soon near enough to touch him with my gun, when I

called out to him to know his regiment, and he responded: "The 5th

Ohio."

What weight and doubt was now removed from my mind! He was a friend! I

had feared that I was approaching a rebel camp, but now my misgivings

had vanished into air! I now told him that I had dispatches for General

Sherman, and wanted to pass into camp, and he called the corporal, who

sent me in without delay.

I found Tuscumbia in possession of General Blair's troops; and the

General furnished me a good breakfast and an ambulance to Cherokee

station; and from here, by order of General Wright I was conveyed on a

special train to Iuka, where Sherman then was; and I at once delivered

my dispatches, which were not yet three days old. No sooner had I

delivered the documents, than my strength utterly failed me, and I sunk

down exhausted, before I could reach the place assigned me to rest.

The service I had performed was most arduous and dangerous; but let

General Sherman himself describe it, and its importance, which he does

in the following document:

HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE MISSISSIPPI,

NASHVILLE, TENN., April 16, 1864.

Corporal James Pike, Co. A 4th Ohio Cavalry, in October, 1863,

carried a message from General Grant to me at Iuka. He got a

canoe at Whitesburg, opposite Huntsville, and came down the

Tennessee, over the Muscle Shoals, all alone, for over one

hundred miles of river, every mile of which was picketed by the

enemy, and reached me safely, as stated, at Iuka. It was that

message that hastened my movement to Chattanooga. The whole

affair is highly creditable to the skill, courage and zeal of

Corporal Pike.

(Signed,) W. T. SHERMAN,

Major General.

The same dispatch reached him in two other ways. Corporal Brant and

private John Wakefield, of the 4th Ohio, went down the north bank of the

river with it, and Lieutenant Fitzgerald, with a hundred 4th Regulars,

got through with it; but I do not believe either of these parties could

have been successful if I had not first made it by the river.

In about two hours after I delivered the dispatch, General Sherman put

his army in motion for Chattanooga; and as soon as the first division

began to cross over, the rebels who occupied the north bank, crossed

over on the shoals, and joined Wheeler on the south side, thus opening

the way for the other two parties to reach the General, which they could

not otherwise have done.

As soon as I rested a day, I started back up the country, with Brant,

and Wakefield, to report the advance of Sherman's army to General Crook.

I told General Sherman that I needed a horse, and he replied that I

should take the best animal there was in Tishamingo or Lauderdale

counties; but after careful search and patient inquiry, I found that his

own men had not left a single one in the country that was able to go;

and when I reported the result of my investigation to the General, he

kindly borrowed one for me, with saddle, bridle and blankets; and I need

hardly state that I forgot to return them.

In an incredibly short time the army reached Chattanooga, and in two

days participated in the battles of Lookout mountain and Mission Ridge;

and in the glorious victories won on those stoutly contested fields, I

felt myself amply repaid for the dangers I had encountered in my journey

over the Muscle Shoals by night.

_CHAPTER XXXI._

RAID IN NORTH CAROLINA--REBEL COLONEL WALKER KILLED.

On our return, we found Elk river exceedingly swollen; so, leaving our

horses with a Union man in the neighborhood, named Hugh McLamore, we

walked up the bank of the stream in search of a boat, as an attempt to

swim it would result in almost certain death. We proceeded at least ten

miles, when we saw a canoe on the opposite side, which was the property

of a notorious old rebel; and immediately two of us hid, while the third

called the boat over. Not dreaming who we were, but evidently supposing

the hail was from a rebel soldier, he sent one of his negroes over with

the craft at once; but no sooner did it reach the shore, than we all

three sprang in, to the astonishment and terror of the darkey.

On reaching the stable, we confiscated two fine mules and a carriage

horse, the old rebel raving and swearing all the time. We laughed at his

passion, and rode off, without damaging his property or injuring him,

our seizure of the animals being merely for the good of the service.

At this house we learned of a Capt. Richardson, who commanded a company

of guerrillas, and who was at a place called Bethel church; and

immediately we set out for the point indicated, but found only one of

his men and two horses, as some one had given notice of our approach.

This fellow was just leaving the camp with two very fine animals; and as

soon as he discovered us, he darted off down a narrow road, with us

immediately after him. Before we reached the road, a man turned into it

with a pair of wild young steers hitched to a cart; and as we charged

down, the steers ran off, following closely the guerrilla. The chase now

became exciting. Away we all went, pell mell, the wild oxen making about

equal time with the flying rebel, and we doing our best to dash by

them, and the vehicle to which they were attached, to catch the Johnnie.

The driver of the steers was short, thick, and fat; and when the cart

was thumping over roots and stumps, he threw himself down on the bottom

of the bed, and fairly roared with fright and pain. The punishment he

endured must have been severe; for sometimes he would be thrown three or

four feet up in the air, and then fall back again into the cart with a

thump that made him roar again. But as we lost the guerrilla by his team

getting in our way, we pursued him on, chasing him another mile or

so--indeed, until the cattle were completely exhausted, and could run no

more. We then reached the Athens road, and there gave him a little

parting advice; for we felt sure that he was the man who had warned the

guerrillas of our approach; and after concluding our admonition, we

struck out toward Athens.

This was once a handsome little town, the buildings possessing taste,

and being of a substantial character; and it has been rendered somewhat

famous as the first place where one of our commanders promulgated the

doctrine of retaliation. At the time we passed through it, it was almost

in ruins; the chief buildings having been burned by order of Gen. O. M.

Mitchell, in retaliation for guerrilla depredations.

From Athens we proceeded to Huntsville, and thence to Brownsboro, where

we found Gen. Crook, who was highly pleased with the success which had

attended our efforts.

As the General expected to remain for some time in command of the second

cavalry division, he at once made a detail of scouts to operate with me;

his plan being to have them well drilled in their business, and then

employ them in acquiring information of affairs within the enemies

lines; and also as flankers and flying sentinels when the command was on

the march. The men detailed were a gallant set of fellows, and they did

a great amount of good service; but Gen. Crook being ordered to

Virginia, was succeeded by Gen. Garrard, who did not approve of our

"style," and so disbanded our organization.

Soon after being detailed on this service, we were sent out on a scout

by Gen. Thomas, the object being to burn the big railroad bridge at

Augusta, Georgia; and if it were possible to do so, the one across the

Congaree, on the road between Branchville and Columbia. Aiken was

another desirable point to reach, where we might do incalculable

mischief to the enemy's communications; but Augusta was the grand

objective point, as here was located the most extensive powder mill in

the entire Confederacy, as well as one of the largest, best, and most

important bridges. To destroy either the powder mill or the bridge, was

to inflict irreparable injury upon the rebel cause, and hence the

importance of success.

We set out in the winter, and succeeded in getting as far as the little

town of Murphy, in Cherokee county, North Carolina, where we found the

snow was so deep in the mountains that it was impossible to proceed

farther; and we accordingly turned our attention to affairs in the

immediate vicinity of where we then were. We were accompanied by a party

of citizens, who aided us to the extent of their power, and gave us all

the information we needed. We ascertained that one Col. W. C. Walker,

who formerly commanded a brigade at Cumberland gap, but who was now at

home with plenary conscripting powers, was creating much trouble in the

county; he being enagaged in carrying into effect his sweeping powers,

with all the energy at his command, and all the cruelty of his nature.

He had already sent a large number of unwilling conscripts to his camp,

on Notely river, some of whom, however, managed to desert, and reached

our lines, reporting to Col. Long, then commanding the forces at

Charleston, on the Hiawassee, in Tennessee. Nothing discouraged,

however, Walker continued to pick up men wherever he could find them;

and although he had but forty or fifty men in camp upon whom he could

rely, he had a full set of officers in camp for a maximum regiment--that

condition of officers being the result of the inordinate ambition of the

_Southern_, or perhaps I should say _secesh_ heart.

After mature deliberation, we concluded to abandon our original mission

altogether, and take the "dashing" Colonel prisoner, and conveying him

back with us to Chattanooga. Subsequent events, however, convinced us of

the truth of the old adage, that it takes at least two to make a

bargain; for the Colonel refused to be taken.

As soon as it was dusk, on New Years' night, of 1864, we sallied out

from a place of concealment, and went to Walker's house, and after

surrounding it called upon him to surrender. He immediately demanded to

know who we were, and we replied that we were Yankee soldiers; and that

if he gave himself up he should be treated like a gentleman, and "as a

prisoner of war;" but he replied with an oath that he would do no such

thing. I then informed him that resistance would be useless, as his

house was surrounded, and that we would take him, dead or alive. He

responded to this threat, with:

"_I will surrender when I please._"

Knowing that he had constantly about him a body guard, I concluded to

storm the house, before they had time to rally to his assistance.

Seizing the door step, which was a short, heavy log, I broke in the

door, in front, while the men behind the house proceeded to demolish

that in the rear. Walker retreated to an inner room, and made a stand to

sell his life as dearly as possible, twice more refusing to surrender.

We soon demolished the two doors to this room, as we had done the outer

ones. Still anxious to save his life, I drew a bead on him with a

pistol, and ordered him again to yield himself a prisoner. He was

standing with a Sharp's carbine, almost ready to shoot, before I

succeeded in drawing my pistol; but, fortunately, I was too quick for

him. Seeing I had the advantage, I again called on him to surrender,

when, after a moment's hesitation, he replied:

"Yes, boys, I'll surren----," and partly turned to lay his carbine on

the bed, when his wife caught my arm, and, by a violent jerk, destroyed

my aim. Quick as thought he wheeled, and raised his gun to shoot me, but

the other men had got in, to assist me, and as his wife still clung

frantically to my arm, his daughter, a beautiful young lady, threw

herself partially between us; still, however, he appeared bent on

shooting me, and I told the boys to fire on him; and Jack Cook, of the

37th Indiana, discharged his piece, and sent a bullet through his heart,

and he fell dead at our feet, without a groan or a struggle.

The work had been more quickly done, than it requires me to relate it;

and as we had no time to lose we prepared for defense. We heard quite a

large party in another part of the house; we formed before the door of

the room occupied by his body guard, and rushed at it; and I succeeded

in throwing myself, and log of wood, on top of the shattered door, in

the middle of the room, and directly among the rebels, who were now

prepared for a serious resistance; but our onset was so impetuous, that

for a moment our enemies were paralyzed, and in that brief interval we

gained a decided advantage, being the first to come to an "aim" and the

Johnnies at once surrendered. There were six or eight of them, including

Walker's son, who was the Sergeant Major of the regiment; and we

captured the entire party, without firing a shot.

After we had secured our prisoners, we took the Colonel's horses, as

well as all that we could gather up in the neighborhood, and started on

our return to Chattanooga. Our route was a tedious and laborious one,

over the Frog mountains, which were then covered with ice and snow--the

cold being intense.

The view from the top of Frog mountain, is one of the grandest in North

America; but we had no time to enjoy the magnificent scenery, as there

was every prospect that we should be rapidly pursued. At Murphy, seven

miles from Walker's house, were about thirty home guards; at Ducktown,

five miles away, were also about the same number; and at Blairsville was

Young's whole battalion, while there were but ten men in my party,

besides a few citizens--rather a small number to venture so far in the

enemy's country. We were, however, well armed and equipped, and

bountifully supplied with ammunition.

After nearly freezing, two or three times, in the mountains, and

suffering severely from hunger and fatigue, we at length reached

Charleston, and turned over our captives to Colonel Long, who was still

in command at that place.

We traveled so fast that young Walker was seized with a violent pain in

the breast, so I thought rather than be hard on him, I would parole, and

leave him, which I did at the house of a noted secessionist; and he

promised to nurse him till he became well enough to return to his

family.

Some time after this I was in South Carolina, and heard, incidentally,

that young Walker had run off to that State, in order to save himself

from being killed by his Union neighbors. He might as well have braved

it out at home, for a Union man in South Carolina killed him on Tiger

Tail creek, and sent his body to Walhalla.

Before leaving North Carolina, I turned another prisoner loose, with

instructions to notify every officer of Walker's command to leave the

country at once, or I would return with a stronger force and send them

all after their colonel; and while passing through the country some time

after, I learned that they had all obeyed my injunction. We likewise, in

one place, called for a certain Captain Stanhope Anderson, but he was

not at home; so we took down his knapsack from a nail where it hung,

inspected his papers, and then threw the whole outfit it contained on

his own fire; then took his pistol and ammunition, broke into his apple

holes, and helped ourselves to all we could carry with us; after which

we directed the overseer to inform the captain that if he didn't quit

the rebel service, and turn to be a good Union man, we would come back

and take his life. On going back, I found that he, too, had heeded our

admonition, and that he was then thoroughly loyal, and the original

Unionists in the vicinity all spoke well of him since his change of

views.

When he entered the rebel service, he swore, in a public speech, to come

back with death in his hand, or victory on the point of his sword; and I

think he owes me a real debt of gratitude for working his conversion

without driving him to extremeties.

I only relate this incident here as an illustration of a view I have

always entertained, viz: That public opinion is an article of

manufacture, as well as boots or shoes.

After reaching Colonel Long's camp at Charleston, and resting ourselves,

we started for Chattanooga, taking canoes at Cottonport; and on arriving

at my place of destination, I reported to General Thomas, after which I

returned to Huntsville, to General Crook.

_CHAPTER XXXII._

BRIDGE BURNING EXPEDITION TO AUGUSTA.

We scouted awhile for General Crook, then for Colonel Miller, and Gen.

Logan; and upon orders from the last named, we burned up nearly all the

distilleries in North Alabama; but when Gen. Garrard took command, as

already stated, the scouts were disbanded, and I returned to Gen. Thomas

again.

Nothing worthy of narration occured to me now, till the advance from

Chattanooga upon Rocky-face Ridge, when I participated in part of one

day's fight.

The project for the destruction of the railroad bridge at Augusta had

been recently revived. If that structure could be destroyed, it could

not be repaired for months, and the damage to the enemy's communications

would be worth an immense amount to us. Could I slip around and burn it?

And then amid the confusion resulting from it, would it not be possible

to give a little attention to the powder mill, and blow it to fragments?

I started for Nashville at once for an outfit, consisting of matches of

a peculiar manufacture, phosphorus and steel arrow heads for throwing

it; and while in the city, I was joined by a man named Charles R. Gray,

who volunteered to go with me. We set out from Nashville for the front,

and arrived there during the battle at Rocky-face Ridge, and we both

went in. It seemed to be a free fight, and every man I saw was doing

something, and of course I could not be idle. The rebels had a decided

advantage in position, being at the top of the ridge; and they wounded a

great many of our men, by rolling huge stones down on them. But I did

not get to see all of the battle, as early on the morning of the second

day, we set out on our journey--Gen. Thomas having just commenced a

maneuver to flank the enemy on the left, as stated.

We went to Chattanooga by railroad, riding on the General's "dummy" car,

and from thence proceeded to Charleston, Tennessee, on a freight train;

and from that point we were compelled to fall back on first

principles--to travel on foot.

From Charleston we followed the Hiawassee some distance, and then

leaving the river, crossed the Frog mountains again, and then returned

to the river, at Murphy, in Cherokee county. On the way we encountered

some tough times and some pretty merry ones. On one occasion we stopped

with an old man, whose family consisted of himself, wife, three

daughters, and a daughter-in-law, all of whom were Union, except the

last named, who was secesh to the back bone, and was prepared at any

moment to do anything in the world for the rebel cause. We were not in

the house long before we made ourselves familiar--Gray, my partner,

directing his conversation to the daughters, while I entertained the

daughter-in-law, and soon had her convinced that we were rebels in

disguise. She was pleased that we were devoting our attention to the

Hiawassee valley, and wished us every success in our enterprise,

whatever it might be; and when I told her my business was ferreting out

deserters, who were secreted in that region by the Lincolnites, her

admiration of our patriotism was unbounded.

After thus gaining her confidence, I began questioning her as to the

different bodies of troops stationed higher up the river, and through

which we were compelled to pass, and I found her thoroughly posted; and

the information she gave me proved, on subsequent observation, to be

correct. To my inquiry about the state of the country, and as to whether

there were any lawless characters infesting the mountains, she replied:

"No; there are none now, nor has there been since last winter, when Old

Spikes and a lot of Yankee bushwhackers came upon Persimmon creek and

killed Colonel Walker. Ever since that time the country has been mighty

quiet."

"Wasn't his name Pike, instead of Spikes?" I inquired.

"Yes, yes; that _was_ it; and they say he was a mighty hard case--a

perfect savage," said she.

"But what was our cavalry doing," I asked, "that they didn't pursue and

capture the villains?"

"Well; a lot of Colonel Young's home guard did get after them," was the

reply, "but they killed the colonel in the night, and took to the

mountains right away, and our men never found them."

She was eyeing me curiously now, and presently she asked:

"Stranger; what is your name?"

"Frank Barton, madam," I replied, without hesitation.

"Where are you from?" she inquired.

"Waco, Texas," said I; and I launched off into a description of Texas

and its people, stock raising, agriculture, etc., and soon got her

thoroughly convinced that I was really telling her the truth.

We had an excellent supper here, and pushed on up the river. Whenever we

found a friendly neighborhood we would stop at houses; but, when we

wouldn't like the appearances, we would hide out in the woods. When we

lay out we would steal chickens and take them into the woods with us;

and if we failed on poultry, we killed a hog: and as for bread, we never

thought of it. When we got into the neighborhood at the base of the Blue

Ridge, we found the people very much exercised in regard to their stock.

The rebels had sent them word to have their cattle gathered, as they

would be after them in two or three days, to take them off to the army.

It was Colonel Thomas--the notorious Bill Thomas, commanding a legion of

Indians, who sent them the order; and the people were fully determined

to resist the seizure of their stock, and sent Thomas word that if he

got their cattle he must gather them himself. There were perhaps sixty

able-bodied men, who were armed and willing to resist if the rebels came

into their neighborhood to enforce the order; and Gray and I joined the

insurrectionary forces and helped to promote the spirit of resistance

among them. We waylaid the pass in the mountains, through which the

rebels must necessarily come, for a couple of days; but Thomas must

have learned, by some means, that the people were armed and awaiting for

his arrival, as he did not come.

We practiced target-shooting, one afternoon, with several of these

mountaineers, just for the sake of making a favorable impression among

them. Gray held a cap box between his thumb and finger for me to shoot

at, and to show the confidence we had in each other we exchanged

positions, and I held the box as a mark for Gray's bullet. The distance

was fifty yards.