Produced by David Widger
SI KLEGG
EXPERIENCES OF SI AND SHORTY ON THE GREAT TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN.
By John McElroy
Book Four
Published By
The National Tribune Co.,
Washington, D. C.
Second Edition
Copyright 1910
Contents:
CHAPTER I. THE TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN ON TO DUCK RIVER
CHAPTER II. THE BALKY MULES
CHAPTER III. THIRD DAY OF THE DELUGE
CHAPTER IV. THE FOURTH DAY OF THE TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN
CHAPTER V. AFLOAT ON A LOG
CHAPTER VI. DISTRESSING ENEMIES
CHAPTER VII. THE EXCITING ADVANCE TULLAHOMA
CHAPTER VIII. THE GLORIOUS FOURTH INDEPENDENCE DAY FUN
CHAPTER IX. A LITTLE EPISODE OVER LOVE LETTERS
CHAPTER X. AFTER BRAGG AGAIN
CHAPTER XI. THE MOUNTAIN FOLK
CHAPTER XII. SI AND SHORTY IN LUCK
CHAPTER XIII. MANY HAPPY EVENTS
CHAPTER XIV. THE FRISKY YOUNGSTERS
CHAPTER XV. KEYED UP FOR ACTION
CHAPTER XVI. THE TERRIFIC STRUGGLE
CHAPTER XVII. IN THE HOSPITAL
CHAPTER XVIII. A DISTURBING MESSAGE
CHAPTER XIX. TEDIOUS CONVALESCENCE
CHAPTER XX. STEWED CHICKEN
PREFACE
"Si Klegg, of the 200th Ind., and Shorty, his Partner," were born years
ago in the brain of John McElroy, Editor of THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE.
These sketches are the original ones published in THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE,
revised and enlarged some what by the author. How true they are to
nature every veteran can abundantly testify from his own service.
Really, only the name of the regiment was invented. There is no doubt
that there were several men of the name of Josiah Klegg in the Union
Army, and who did valiant service for the Govern ment. They had
experiences akin to, if not identical with, those narrated here, and
substantially every man who faithfully and bravely carried a musket in
defense of the best Government on earth had some times, if not often,
experiences of which those of Si Klegg are a strong reminder.
THE PUBLISHERS.
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
TO THE RANK AND FILE
OF THE GRANDEST ARMY EVER MUSTERED FOR WAR.
SI KLEGG
CHAPTER I. THE TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN ON TO DUCK RIVER
"ONLY 25 MILES TO SHELBYVILLE."
JUNE 23, 1863, ended the Army of the Cumberland's six months of
wearisome inaction around Murfreesboro its half-year of tiresome
fort-building, drilling, picketing and scouting.
Then its 60,000 eager, impatient men swept forward in combinations of
masterful strategy, and in a brief, wonderfully brilliant campaign of
nine days of drenching rain drove Bragg out of his strong fortifications
in the rugged hills of Duck River, and compelled him to seek refuge in
the fastnesses of the Cumberland Mountains, beyond the Tennessee River.
"Now," said Shorty, as they stood in line, waiting the order to move,
"as Old Rosy has clearly waked up to business, I hope to gracious that
Mr. Bragg will be found at home ready for callers. We've wasted six
months waiting for him to get good and ready, and he certainly ought to
be in trim to transact any little business we may have with him."
"I think you needn't trouble yourself about that, Shorty," said Capt.
McGillicuddy. "All the news is that Bragg is down there in Shelbyville
in force, and with blood in his eye. Somebody is going to be terribly
whipped before the end of the week, and I'm pretty sure it won't be the
Army of the Cumberland."
"Well, let's have it over and done with," said Si. "It's got to be
fought out some time, and the sooner the better. I wish the whole thing
could be fought to a finish to-morrow. Then I'd know at once whether I'm
to live through this war."
"I don't think you'll be kept long in suspense," replied Capt.
McGillicuddy. "Shelbyville is only 25 miles away. We can't go forward
many hours with out forcing a collision as to the right of way. If we
can whip Bragg behind the works he has been building for the last six
months, we'll settle the whole business for the Southern Confederacy in
the West. Grant will take Vicksburg, and then we'll have peace."
"Only 25 miles," repeated Shorty. "We ought to be squarely up against
them not later than to-morrow night and one or two days' lively pounding
ought to make Mr. Bragg holler enough."
"Rosenbaum is as certain as he is of his life," said Si to the Captain
and the rest, "that Bragg has the bulk of his army at Shelbyville,
which, as you say, is but 25 miles from here, and that he will draw
the rest in and fight us behind the awfully big forts that he has
been building for the last six months from Shelbyville to War Trace.
Rosenbaum says that he knows it for a fact that 3,000 negroes have been
worked on the forts ever since Bragg retreated there last January."
"Well, 25 miles isn't far to go for a fight," returned Shorty. "All that
I ask is that the 200th Ind. be given the advance. We'll make
schedule time to ward Shelbyville, and bring on the fight before early
candle-lightin' to-morrow evening."
"I guess you'll have your wish, Shorty," returned Capt. McGillicuddy.
"We lead the brigade to-day, anyway, and we'll try to keep the lead
clear through."
Then the rain poured down so violently that all the conversation was
suspended, except more or less profane interjections upon the luck of
the Army of the Cumberland in never failing to bring on a deluge when it
started to march.
In the midst of this the bugles sounded "For ward!" and the 200th Ind.
swung out on the Shelby ville Pike, and set its face sternly southward.
After it trailed the rest of the brigade, then the ambulances and
wagons, and then the rest of the division.
At times the rain was actually blinding, but the men plodded on doggedly
and silently. They had ex austed their epithets at the start, and now
settled down to stolid endurance.
"We've only got to go 25 miles, boys," Si would occasionally say, by
way of encouragement. "This rain can't last forever at this rate. It'll
probably clear up bright just as we reach Shelbyville to-morrow, and
give us sunshine to do our work in."
But when the column halted briefly at noon, for dinner for the men and
mules, it was raining harder and steadier than ever. It was difficult to
start fires with the soaked rails and chunks, all were wet to the skin,
and rivulets of water ran from them as they stood or walked. The horses
of the officers seemed shrunken and drawn-up, and the mud was getting
deeper every minute.
"Lucky we had the advance," said the optimistic Si. "We have churned
the roads into a mortar-bed, and them that comes after us will have hard
pullin'. I wonder how many miles we've made of them 25?"
"I feel that we've already gone full 25," said Shorty. "But Tennessee
miles's made o' injy-rubber, and stretch awfully."
They were too ill-humored to talk much, but stood around and sipped
their hot coffee and munched sodden crackers and fried pork in silence.
Pork fried in the morning in a half-canteen, and carried for hours in a
dripping haversack, which reduced the crackers to a tasteless mush, is
not an appetizing viand; but the hunger of hard exercise in the open air
makes it "go."
Again the bugles sounded "Forward," and they plodded on more stolidly
than ever.
Increasing evidences of the enemy's presence be gan to stimulate them.
Through the sheets of rain they saw a squad of rebel cavalry close to
them. There was much snapping of damp gun-caps on both sides, a few
unavailing shots were actually fired, and they caught glimpses between
the rain-gusts of the rebel horsemen galloping up the muddy road to ward
the rising hills.
They pushed forward with more spirit now. They came to insignificant
brooks which were now raging torrents, through which they waded waist
deep, first placing their treasured ammunition on their shoul ders or
heads.
As they were crossing one of these, Si unluckily stepped into a deep
hole, which took him in over his head. His foot struck a stone, which
rolled, and down he went. Shorty saw him disappear, made a frantic
clutch for him, and went down himself. For a brief tumultuous instant
they bobbed around against the legs of the other boys, who went down
like tenpins. Nearly the whole of Co. Q was at once floundering in the
muddy torrent, with the Captain, who had succeeded in crossing, looking
back in dis may at the disaster. The Orderly-Sergeant and a few others
at the head of the company rushed in and pulled out by the collars such
of the boys as they could grab. Si and Shorty came to the bank a little
ways down, blowing and sputtering, and both very angry.
[Illustration: DURING THE HALT FOR DINNER. 20]
"All your infernal clumsiness," shouted Shorty. "You never will look
where you're goin'. No more sense than a blind hoss."
"Shut up," said Si, wrathfully. "Don't you talk about clumsiness. It was
them splay feet o' your'n that tripped me, and then you downed the rest
o' the boys. Every mite of our grub and ammunition's gone."
How far the quarrel would have gone cannot be told, for at that instant
a regiment of rebels, which had been pushed out in advance, tried to
open a fire upon the 200th Ind. from behind a rail fence at the bottom
of the hill. Only enough of their wet guns could be gotten off to
announce their presence. The Colonel of the 200th Ind. yelled:
"Companies left into line!"
The soggy men promptly swung around.
"Fix bayonets! Forward, double-quick!" shouted the Colonel.
It was a sorry "double-quick," through the pelting rain, the entangling
weeds and briars, and over the rushing streams which flooded the field,
but it was enough to discourage the rebels, who at once went back in a
heavy-footed run to the works on the hill, and the rebel cannon boomed
out to cover their retreat.
"Lie down!" shouted the Colonel, as they reached the fence, and a shell
struck a little in advance, filling the air with mud and moist fragments
of vegetation.
As they lay there and recovered their breath there was much splashing
and splattering of mud, much running to and fro, much galloping of Aids
in their rear. The 200th Ind. was ordered to hold its place, and be
ready for a charge upon the hill when it received orders. The brigade's
battery was rushed up to a hill in the rear, and opened a fire on the
rebel guns. The other regiments were deployed to the right and left to
outflank the rebel position.
Si and Shorty and the rest of Co. Q put in the time trying to get their
guns dry and borrowing ammunition from the men of the other companies.
Both were jobs of difficulty and doubtful success. There could be no
proper drying of guns in that incessant drench, and nobody wanted to
open up his stock of cartridges in such a rain.
In the intervals between the heavier showers glimpses could be had of
the "Kankakee Suckers" and the "Maumee Muskrats" working their way as
fast as they could around toward the rebel flanks. The rebel artillery,
seeing most danger from them, began throwing shells in their direction
as they could be caught sight of through the rain and the opening in the
trees.
"Why don't they order us forward with the bayonets?" fretted Si. "We
can scatter them. Their guns ain't in no better shape than ours. If they
hold us here, the Illinoy and Ohio fellers 'll git all the credit."
"The Colonel's orders are explicit," said the Adjutant, who happened to
be near, "not to move until the head of one of the other regiments can
be seen on the hills to the right or left. Then we're all to go forward
together."
"Yes," grumbled Shorty, "and we'll jest git there in time to see
them Illinoy Suckers hog everything. You kin see 'em limberin' up and
preparing to git. Just our dumbed luck."
It turned out just as Shorty had predicted. The rebel commander had kept
a wary eye on the other regiments, and as he saw them gain the point of
vantage in the open, where they could make a rush upon him, he ordered
a quick retreat. The other regiments raised a yell and charged straight
home. By the time the 200th Ind. could reach the gap the other regiments
were in full possession, and the rebels out of musket-shot in the valley
beyond.
"I told you so," snorted the irate Shorty. "Now we've lost the advance.
To-morrow we'll have to take them other fellers' mud, and pry their
teams out o' the holes."
"I wonder how many o' them 25 miles toward Shelbyville we've made
to-day?" asked Si.
"I heard the Adjutant say," said one of his comrades, "that we'd come
just six miles."
"Jewhillikins," said Shorty sorrowfully.
Thus ended the first day of the Tullahoma campaign.