The Campaign in East Tennessee.
On the 11th of August Gen. Burnside arrived at Hickman's Bridge, Ky.,
and began making the final arrangements for his movement into East
Tennessee. He received information that the Ninth Corps had been
relieved by Gen. Grant, and was then on its way north, the advance
regiments having already reached Cairo, and could be expected to arrive
in Cincinnati not later than the 15th.
The Twenty-third Corps, under Gen. Hartzuff, had rendezvoused in three
columns, at different points; one, under Gen. White, at Columbia;
another, under Gen. Hascall, at Somerset; and the third, under Gen.
Carter, at Crab Orchard. With this last column Gen. Burnside was to go.
On the 20th the General issued orders for a forward movement to take
place on the 21st, and _at last_ this long delayed, much wished for,
and most fervently prayed for expedition was to start.
What significance those two words--At Last--had for thousands, yea,
tens of thousands at this time. It signified to President Lincoln
that at last one load which had been upon his heart for a year and a
half--namely, his sympathy for the loyal people of East Tennessee--was
about to be removed; it signified to those three great leaders of the
Union men of that section--Andrew Johnson, Edward Maynard, and Parson
Brownlow, that at last all their labor, efforts and prayers were about
to bear fruit in the accomplishment of their most cherished desire.
It signified to Gen. Burnside that at last he could push forward an
expedition which had had full possession of his heart--primarily, for
the relief of a long-suffering, intensely loyal people--and secondly,
to seize and hold as much as possible of the East Tennessee and Georgia
Railroad.
It signified to Gen. Rosecrans that at last he need give himself no
uneasiness about the rapid transfer of any portion of the Army of
Virginia to Chattanooga, via the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad,
and after being used successfully against him, to be as rapidly
returned back again.
But what an infinitely greater significance did these words have for
the thousands of women and children in East Tennessee. In imagination
I can see those mothers, wives and sisters (as they receive the news
carried by some fleet-footed messenger over the Cumberland Mountains,
by secluded paths) gather on their mountains, in their valleys, in
towns and cities, and turning their eyes towards the mountains at the
north, cry out in all the ecstacy of lightened hearts, "At last, thank
God, dear fathers, husbands and brothers, you are coming back to us!"
And in answer I can hear, coming from the throats of those fathers,
husbands and brothers, who had come over the mountains into Kentucky in
such numbers that they had organized eight full regiments of infantry
and three of cavalry, "Yes! dear ones, at last we surely are coming, to
protect you and our homes."
Our battery having been thoroughly refitted and prepared for the
expedition, was ordered upon the 15th to report to Gen. Hascall,
at Danville. Here it remained until the morning of the 17th, when
it continued its journey to Stamford, laid over one day, and at two
o'clock on the morning of the 19th was aroused by "Boots and saddles,"
marching as soon as ready, for Crab Orchard.
This place had in ante-bellum days been noted as a watering-place,
or perhaps more properly speaking, sanitarium, it being possessed
of numerous medicinal springs. If my memory serves me, it was more
fortunate than most fakes of this sort, in that these springs were
supposed to contain waters of different therapeutical effect. There was
the alterative, tonic, and aperient water, a liberal and intelligently
administered course of which would rejuvenate the most thoroughly
used-up system in the world. No wonder that it was the Mecca toward
which all the chronics of the South journeyed.
Any veteran will remember how apt an old soldier was who had been
living upon salt junk, salt pork and hard-tack for a considerable time,
to allow his imagination full scope whenever his surroundings reminded
him of a full course dinner or banquet. Thus it was with Battery D on
the evening that we spent at Crab Orchard.
A lot of us gathered on the piazza of the vacant hotel and gave
orders for dinners that would have taxed the ability of a Delmonico
or a Tillinghast to have filled; and the fearful drop that came when
the men who had been personating waiters to help along the joke and
had dashed away for the kitchen on receiving our orders to have them
filled, and returned with a raw pork sandwich for each, profuse with
their apologies from the proprietors, that they were unable to fill
our orders because of the great rush of business, which had entirely
destroyed their assortment of eatables.
We ate the sandwiches, using all the imagination that we possessed,
then went to the springs and tried a course of the waters. One of the
springs, which I suppose must have been the alterative, was loud in its
smell and loud in its taste, and we vowed we would have no more of it.
Crab Orchard is situated at the beginning of the foot-hills of the
Cumberland Mountains, and from here the difficulties of the way will
increase with every mile we travel. From this on for some eighty miles
we are to march through a wilderness, from which we cannot expect to
gather anything in the way of forage, consequently we must secure all
the grain and hay that can be found, to take with us. All day of the
20th we spent in this work, scouring the country for ten miles around
with indifferent success.
On the 21st we marched to Cub Creek, a small stream emptying into the
Cumberland River. Next day we moved to Cumberland River and camped on
its bank, near Smith's Ford. On this day our battery made twenty miles,
which was considered astonishing by our corps commander. In a report
to Gen. Burnside he said that the roads were the worst he ever saw,
particularly the last five or six miles before we reached the river,
but thought they would be better when we had crossed to the other side.
I think that my comrades of Battery D will smile at this prophecy when
they remember what we really did find in the line of roads after we
crossed the river. The approach to and exit from Smith's Ford were
two of the steepest hills I ever remember to have seen, and the next
morning when we began to cross I contemplated the work with fear and
trembling; for I considered my position of wheel-driver on the sixth
caisson a dangerous one. But as I stood upon the top of the hill and
watched piece after piece and caisson after caisson go down safely, and
feeling that I was perhaps as expert a driver as any of the others,
and had a pair of horses--of which I propose to have something more to
say later on--as reliable as any in the battery, I began to have more
confidence, and when my turn came made the descent successfully. On the
other side it required the united efforts of six pairs of horses and
all the cannoniers that could get a hand on the carriages, to make the
ascent.
We spent the 24th in foraging for grain, and succeeded in finding
enough for three or four feedings, which was very unsatisfactory. We
had hardly enough to feed the horses, on small rations, for more than
three days, and as on the morrow we were to commence our climb to the
top of the Cumberland Mountains, should our horses give out we would be
in a sorry plight.
On the 25th we continued our march, and to our surprise found the roads
in much better condition than we expected, and were able to make about
eighteen miles. We began to feel that perhaps our way was not to be so
difficult after all; but the next morning before we had been on the
road an hour we found that the good road was a delusion and a snare--a
sort of "will-o'-the-wisp" to lure us on, and then suddenly throw
before us difficulties which were almost insurmountable.
The road began to narrow rapidly, until it became simply a bridle-path,
over which I do not believe a carriage had ever passed before. The
ascent became steeper and steeper, many places being encountered over
which the carriages had to be lifted by the men. The horses could
hardly be driven over these precipitous places, much less be made to
pull.
The infantry which had been ordered to accompany the battery to assist
in getting us over the rough places, became tired very early, and the
men of the battery becoming disgusted with their continual grumbling,
and the awkward manner in which they rendered their assistance, drove
them away, preferring to do it alone. Both men and horses performed
herculean labor that day.
During the afternoon we had been encouraged by the report that there
was very little more of this terribly hard labor to be performed. If we
could only hold out just a little while we should reach the top of the
mountain, and after we passed the "Pine Knot Tavern," the road would be
level, and in much better condition.
I do not know whether it was the hope of getting through with the
labor, or the anxiety to reach the tavern--many of them picturing to
themselves an establishment something after the style of the good
old New England tavern, filled with plenty to eat and drink--that
stimulated the men to greater exertions or not, but for an hour or two
our progress was much more rapid. It was after dark when we reached
a spot large enough to park the battery at very close intervals, and
bivouacked for the night.
Early on the morning of the 27th, after giving our horses all the corn
left, we started on. Very soon we passed "Pine Knot Tavern," which
consisted of a cellar half filled with the debris of what had been a
small log cabin, the supports of which had rotted off and allowed the
cabin to fall into the cellar.
Several natives, who had come from their homes, located in the ravines
on either side of the mountain, to see us pass, and sell a few chickens
(their stock had been exhausted long before we passed), were the first
people we had seen since we entered the wilderness.
All day we marched at this high elevation. Occasionally a cloud would
sweep across our path, enveloping us in fog for a while; then there
would be places where we would pass out of the woods and a most
magnificent landscape would unfold to our view. Sometimes it would be
Kentucky, at others East Tennessee upon which we were looking. Taken
all together it was the most enjoyable panoramic sort of a march that
the battery ever made.
It was left, however, for the morning of the 29th to unfold the most
magnificent sight that most of us had ever looked upon. As we gazed
about, we found that our location gave us a view on both sides of the
mountain. To the north we could see back into Kentucky, almost to our
starting point, and trace the route which we had just come over, dotted
here and there with the towns and villages through which we had passed.
Many of us had wondered why that section of the State had been called
the "Blue Grass Region;" the reason was plainly evident to us now, for
there it lay before us, as blue as though it had been dyed.
Then we turned our eyes towards the south, and looked upon that
land into which we were about to enter; beautiful it was to look
upon, divided into valleys by spurs of the Cumberland Mountains, the
ever-changing color of the landscape as the sun rose higher and higher,
enabling us to see farther, until our eyes could discover the Smoky
Mountains, the tops of which were covered with a smoke-like cloud,
located beyond Knoxville.
As our eyes became tired of looking such a distance we fastened them
upon the scenery near at hand, and found it as grand and romantic
as any we had ever looked upon. Taken all together it was a most
magnificent sight, and did not fail to arouse the most unenthusiastic
nature in the battery.
While we are contemplating the scene before us, and before we commence
our descent into these valleys, it will be well for us to consider what
manner of people these are whom we are going to succor. That they are
a peculiar people is perfectly evident from the fact that, living as
they do in the almost geographical centre of the Slave States, they
are by a large majority opposed to the institution of slavery. This is
evidenced by the fact that the first abolition paper ever published in
the United States emanated from a press in Jonesboro, Tennessee. Among
the first abolition societies ever organized in this country were those
of Eastern Tennessee, and in the year 1816 the Manumission Society,
of Tennessee, held a meeting at Greenville, and issued an address
advocating the abolition of slavery. Whence came this abhorrence of
slavery, and this love of liberty? Certainly the origin of this people
must have been different, totally different, from those who surrounded
them on all sides.
I am indebted to my friend William Rule, Esq., of Knoxville, for the
following account of the first settlement of East Tennessee:
"On the first day of May, 1769, a young farmer started out from the
banks of the Yadkin River, in the State of North Carolina, accompanied
by five stalwart hunters. It was about the time that the descendants
of the Pilgrim Fathers in Massachusetts were denying themselves the
luxury of tea rather than pay tribute to a tyrant king. About the same
time the House of Burgesses was dissolved by the Colonial Governor of
Virginia, for having dared to pass resolutions condemning the Stamp
Act, and Governor Tryon, of North Carolina, was serving his royal
master by oppressing the patriots of that colony.
The name of the young farmer was James Robertson, the founder of the
first colony in Tennessee; and one of the hunters who accompanied him
was Daniel Boone, whose daring exploits are familiar to everyone. They
went, as did the messengers of old sent by Moses, to spy out beyond the
Alleghanies a land where they and those who sent them might live free
from the restraints and oppression of English rulers.
One year afterwards a colony was established beside the swift-running
waters of the beautiful Watango River. It was composed of men and women
of heroic mould, filled with inspirations of patriotism, resolved that
their abiding place in the wilderness, surrounded by savages, should
be "Freedom's home or Glory's grave." It was the descendants of these
patriots who became the first Abolitionists. It was these same people
that, in February, 1861, when voting upon a proposition proposed by the
Legislature as to whether a convention should or should not be called
for the purpose of passing an ordinance of secession, declared by a
majority of more than twenty-three thousand out of a total vote of
forty-three thousand, against holding the convention."
It was these same people who furnished to the Union army during the
Rebellion thirty-five thousand troops--two thousand more than our own
State.
It should be borne in mind that these men could not go quietly and
peacefully to enlisting places, situated in their own towns and cities,
place their names upon the rolls in the presence of friends who
encouraged and praised them for so doing, nor could they leave their
families with the assurance that they would be looked after and taken
care of by a kind and sympathetic State.
On the contrary they were obliged to travel on foot by night over
mountains, swimming swift-running rivers, avoiding all roads, taking
only unfrequented paths, because the Confederates, who realized that
these men were bound to serve the Union cause, and were willing to
endure any hardship or privation necessary to accomplish that object,
were patrolling all the roads leading into Kentucky, for the purpose
of capturing these patriots and carrying them off to rebel prisons.
Journeys varying from two to three hundred miles were made by tens of
thousands of these men, for the purpose of fighting for their country,
leaving their families to the tender mercies of an enraged enemy.
Show me a people possessed of greater heroism, patriotism and love of
country, than the men and women--of whom I propose to say more--of East
Tennessee!
It had been the custom of Capt. Buckley after we entered the
wilderness, to ride on before the battery after he had seen it under
way, taking with him as orderly, William Fisk, and hunt for forage.
On this morning they started as usual, and were nearly the first to
pass the tavern. They were successful in securing two of the chickens
before-mentioned, but could get no information as to any grain in
that vicinity. Continuing on, it was well into the afternoon before
they came across any other citizens. Turning a bend in the road they
suddenly came in sight of a log cabin just off the trail we were
following. No one was in sight, but a few vigorous hulloas from the
captain brought into view two men and three women, evidently father,
mother, son and two daughters.
Capt. Buckley, in his most suave manner, asked if they had grain or
any knowledge of any in that vicinity. They very promptly answered
that they had none, neither did they know of any, and the captain was
about to continue his journey, when the younger daughter said, "John
Cooper has some." "Who is John Cooper, and where does he live?" asked
the captain. "A right smart piece down that road, on Pond's Creek," she
replied, pointing to a path which opened from the main road directly
opposite where they were standing. Mounting their horses the captain
said to Fisk, "We will go and see John Cooper," and started down the
path.
After riding a little more than two miles, they reached a log cabin,
and noticing what appeared to be a grist-mill a little further on, the
captain thought he would investigate before going to the house. The
result of this investigation was between twenty-five and thirty bushels
of corn, wheat and oats, upon which the captain's seal was immediately
placed.
They went to the house and were pleasantly greeted by Susan Cooper,
wife of John Cooper, as the lady informed them. In reply to the
captain's question as to whom the grain belonged, she informed him
that some of it was John's and the balance belonged to neighbors. No
objection was made by her when informed by the captain that he should
be obliged to take the grain, but he would leave a receipt for it,
which would be paid if her husband was a Union man.
At the captain's suggestion Mrs. Cooper expressed a willingness to
provide dinner for her guests, the number of which had been enlarged
by the arrival of an artillery captain and two buglers, who had come
down into the ravine in quest of grain, and had been invited by Capt.
Buckley to partake of the meal then being prepared by Mrs. Cooper,
which consisted of fried chicken and bacon, with a liberal supply of
corn bread. The lady was considerably embarrassed by her inability
to supply dishes for so large a company, and apologized for her
impoverished condition in this direction by saying that "It was a long
time since John had been where dishes could be put off."
Three things in connection with these people are thoroughly impressed
upon my mind:--First, the very small environment within which they
lived; secondly, their entire lack of interest in anything not entering
upon their own lives; and, thirdly, the exceeding simplicity of their
lives, and the little that was required to make them apparently
contented and happy. Mrs. Cooper, for instance, living at the bottom
of that ravine, the only entrance to which was down a narrow mountain
pathway, in a log cabin having but one room, with about two acres of
cleared land, surrounded upon all sides, save at the entrance, by a
solid wall of rock towering seventy-five feet in height, passing months
at a time without seeing anyone save the members of her own family,
certainly had as monotonous an existence as could be imagined.
The grain secured by the captain did not reach our bivouac at Chitwood
until late at night, but so badly was it needed by the horses--they
having been without any grain for one day at least--that the drivers
were aroused and their horses fed immediately.
The time had now arrived when we must commence our descent from the
mountain top. It is less laborious for the cannoniers, but much more
so for the wheel-drivers, of which I, unfortunately, happened to be
one. It has always been a matter of surprise to me that we brought
the battery safely to the foot of that mountain. I consider that the
agility displayed by me in dodging that pole as it flew about in
every direction--sometimes over one horse, then the other, at one
time pointing to the earth, and then to heaven, caused by the dashing
(sliding would perhaps be a better word, as the wheels were locked) of
the caisson over the rocks, sometimes making necessary a jump of four
or five feet, and be able to shout to my comrades as we reached the
bottom, "It never touched me," was one of the best things I ever did.
I claim no special merit for the successful manner in which I guided
the caisson down that awful road, because there were thirteen other
wheel-drivers who were just as successful, but all the same, I believe
it was my thorough knowledge of the peculiarities of my horses that
enabled me to do it. I was intimately acquainted with both of them,
as I had driven them for twenty months. Both were powerful animals,
but with entirely different notions as to how their strength was to
be used. Hercules, the nigh horse, which I rode, was always willing
to do his full share of the pulling, and if upon occasions it became
necessary for him to make an extra effort, he would, at my bidding,
take the whole load of the caisson upon his shoulders. The off horse,
with almost as much strength, did not believe in pulling, and would not
unless he thought I was watching him, when he would put in apparently
for all there was in him; but when asked to hold back, he entered into
the performance of that act with all the enthusiasm of a horse's
nature. I have frequently stopped the whole team by signifying that I
wanted him to do his best at holding back.
I have always regretted that I obliged that horse to go down to his
grave with a name which entirely misrepresented him. He had the most
vicious expression I ever saw upon a horse. His ears were always lopped
(I never saw them erect), and he had a habit of parting his lips,
showing his teeth in such a manner that it gave one the impresssion
that he only awaited an opportunity to attack. His appearance led me,
when the sergeant presented him, saying, "George, here is a horse just
suited to go with Hercules," to exclaim, "He looks like Old Satan
himself!" and from that moment he was known through the battery as "Old
Satan."
It was wrong thus to name him, and I desire on this occasion to do
him justice by declaring, after two years constant association,
during which I learned to think a great deal of him as a horse, that
I never saw any evidence of his possessing a single attribute said to
be possessed by his namesake. Kind and gentle, he never gave me any
trouble. He seemed to have acquired a perfect understanding of how that
caisson should be managed upon the march, and I soon learned to trust
him with its management. Upon long marches at night, when I found it
almost impossible to keep my eyes open, many were the restful naps I
enjoyed sitting on Hercules' back with my head pillowed upon the valise
in "Old Satan's" saddle.
Speaking about horses, I wonder if my comrades of Battery D have
forgotten what an amount of affection was lavished upon the horses
by their drivers. Certainly no one of the sixth detachment will ever
forget "Old Curley," driven so long as the nigh leader upon their
piece, by Anson Mathewson, possessed of an intelligence which enabled
him to reason more successfully than some animals of the human species.
We all remember the affectionate regard held by St. John, Billy Mills,
William Stalker and many others for their teams. Any of them would
tramp miles after dark to some haystack which they had seen during the
day, make as large a bundle of the hay as they could carry, bring it
to camp, spread it before their horses, and then sit up half the night
watching until the horses had consumed it, from fear that some one
would steal it and feed it to his own team.
At last we are over the mountains, and the great difficulties of our
journey passed. This march of the Army of the Ohio over the Cumberland
Mountains has been likened to the crossing of the Alps by Bonaparte,
and it seems to me the simile is well taken. Certainly it is hard to
imagine difficulties greater than those encountered by our army. The
rebel Gen. Buckner, who is said to have had an army of 20,000 men to
oppose our entry into East Tennessee, while Gen. Burnside had but about
15,000, was so thoroughly satisfied of the absolute impossibility
of the passage of an army from Kentucky to Tennessee at this point,
believing that they must come by way of Cumberland Gap, that he made
no attempt to oppose us; consequently when we appeared before him his
astonishment was so great, and his retreat so precipitous, he failed to
notify a detachment of his army, numbering 2,000 men, who were guarding
Cumberland Gap, and who soon were obliged to surrender to Gen. Burnside.
Our march of the 28th and 29th had been through a wilderness of rocks;
that of the 30th and 31st was through a wilderness of woods. The troops
in advance of the battery had worked the road-bed into an almost
impassable condition. Our horses having had but little forage since the
21st, and had been forced to work beyond the limits of their strength,
now began to give out, many falling from sheer exhaustion. It began
to look as though if grain could not be secured for them our chances
for getting through would be rather slim. Quartermaster Remington
was scouring the country in search of it; but on his return gave the
discouraging information that no forage could be secured until we
should reach a point about twenty miles further on. There was no other
way out of our present difficulty: that point _must_ be reached, and
the cannoniers must help the horses pull the carriages.
Our progress was necessarily very slow, but patience, perseverance
and lots of hard work, finally accomplished the task, and late in the
afternoon of the 31st, as we drove into park, we had the pleasure of
seeing Quartermaster Remington ride into camp, followed by two wagons
loaded with corn. It gave the drivers much satisfaction to see their
teams enjoying the first good feeding which they had had for ten days.
We had now gotten out of the wilderness, and were just about to enter
one of those fertile valleys which we had seen from the mountain top.
The men who had accompanied the wagons upon the forage trips after
the corn, gave us our first impression as to the kind and friendly
treatment which we might expect from the people whose country we were
just entering, in their description of the reception they had received
from those at whose places they had secured the corn.
On the morning of September 1st, after another good feeding, the
horses seemed to be in much better condition. About ten o'clock in the
forenoon the battery pulled out into the road and joined the division,
which had been ordered to make "Big Emery," about twenty miles distant,
before dark. We accomplished the task easily, and formed a junction
with the column under Gen. Carter, with whom Gen. Burnside had crossed
the mountains.
Foraging was now reduced to a perfect system. Gen. Burnside issued an
order calling attention to the fact that as it would now be necessary
for the army to depend upon the country largely for its subsistence,
he desired to remind us that we were among a loyal people, who
were our friends, and he was unwilling that they should be robbed
or despoiled of their property except in a legal manner, and by the
proper authorities. Officers were to be held strictly responsible for
any depredations committed by the men under their command; division,
brigade and regimental quartermasters were ordered to receipt for
everything taken by them for their commands, which would be paid upon
presentation to the proper authority, provided that the loyalty of
the person could be proven. Officers and men must pay for anything
taken by them for their personal use. The quartermaster sergeants of
batteries were allowed to give receipts for forage, but they must be
countersigned by the commanding officers to secure payment.
Details were made each day to do the work, and the privilege of going
upon these trips began to be much sought after. The kind manner in
which we were received by the citizens, made such excursions very
pleasant for the men.
September 2d we remained in camp near Big Emery River, resting and
grazing the horses until two o'clock in the afternoon, but the time
lost in the morning was made up by continuing the march well into the
night, it being eleven o'clock before we pulled off the road and parked
the battery for the night.
Very early the next morning we started for Clinch River, crossing some
five miles above Kingston, and continued on towards Knoxville, camping
that night about twenty miles from that place.
Next day, September 4th, our battery countermarched some six or eight
miles, and taking a road leading to Loudon, where the rebels were
reported to be in strong force, in a fortified position, marched
rapidly to that place.
Early in the afternoon artillery firing in our front convinced us that
at last we had come up with the enemy. Two hours afterwards, as we
came out upon the bluffs of the Tennessee River opposite Loudon, we saw
our cavalry crossing the river, under the protection of our artillery,
and driving the enemy beyond the town. Before the arrival of our troops
the enemy had fired the bridge over the river, and it was soon totally
destroyed.
Next day our infantry crossed the river and took possession of the
town, occupying as many of the fortifications as they could use, and
destroying the rest. The battery remained in camp opposite Loudon until
the 15th of September, enjoying a much needed rest. Both men and horses
had become thoroughly used up by this long and difficult journey,
which had just been completed, and the opportunity to recuperate was
thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated.
The rebels in their hurried flight had left us a few horses, mules,
and beef cattle, which were appropriated by our troops with thanks. A
large amount of wheat and corn were found in possession of the farmers,
which was immediately seized by our quartermaster. A steam flour-mill
in Loudon was found to be in perfect condition, and was soon at work
converting the wheat into flour, which was issued to the army for the
first time on the fifth. Corn meal was soon added to our rations;
flap-jacks and corn-dodgers became plenty; chickens and fresh pork
could be obtained without much trouble; and we were soon able to get up
a dinner the quality and quantity of which was very satisfactory to us.
September 14th orders were received late at night for the battery
to be prepared to march at an early hour next morning. The men were
aroused by "Boots and saddles," the battery hitched up, and marched
to the railroad, where all the knapsacks, together with the chests of
the caissons, were removed and placed upon flat cars. In this light
marching order the battery left Loudon at two o'clock in the morning
of the 15th. Our first camp was made near Knoxville, second at
Strawberry Plains, and the third at New Market, where we arrived early
in the afternoon of the 17th. It began raining on the evening of our
arrival, and continued throughout the night and the next day. Happily
we were not ordered to march and could spend the time fixing up our
tents for protection. The cooks were ordered to prepare rations for a
march on the following day.
September 19th we left New Market for Loudon, arriving on the 21st,
having been absent about one week, during which we had covered
ninety-eight miles.
The emergency which had occasioned this long march seems to have been
of double origin. Our movement to New Market had been occasioned by a
reported raid of the rebels of Southwestern Virginia upon Gen. Scannon,
with the view of driving him out of West Virginia, and our movement had
been made with the intention of leading the rebel commander to believe
that we were about to move upon him from the rear.
The occasion of our quick return was a dispatch from Gen. Halleck
to Gen. Burnside, notifying him that three divisions of Lee's army
had been sent to reinforce Bragg, and he desired him to go to Gen.
Rosecrans' assistance as soon as possible.
September 23d the battery was ordered to cross the river at Loudon. Our
crossing upon this occasion was a long, tedious work, occasioned by
the fact that it had to be accomplished by the use of one flat-boat,
just large enough to accommodate one carriage and the team at a time,
and the first streaks of day were appearing before it was fully
accomplished.
As soon as everything was across, the battery started for Sweet Water,
a station sixteen miles south of Loudon, on the East Tennessee and
Georgia Railroad. We had just arrived at that place, when we were
ordered to countermarch and return as rapidly as possible to Loudon. We
were all night upon the road, arriving at our destination at daylight,
when the troops were ordered into position upon the south side of the
river. Our battery was placed in a fort commanding the approach by the
road.
The 20th was a day of excitement among the citizens, who flocked to us
in great numbers for protection. It was reported that the rebel Gen.
Forrest was coming up the railroad from Athens via Cleveland, with a
large body of men, and it was also rumored that a large force of rebels
had crossed the Little Tennessee at Meyerton, a village about fifteen
miles to the left of Loudon, which it was supposed would unite with
the main column at or near this place. Skirmishing in our front was
continued all day; desultory firing to the left of our position, but at
considerable distance, was heard, convincing us that the rumors which
had been circulated had considerable merit of truth in them.
Early in the morning of the 27th we hitched up, expecting an attack.
A pontoon bridge had been completed during the night, and at daylight
troops began crossing the river from the north bank and moved to the
front, but it soon quieted down, and the day passed without further
incident.
Next morning cannonading could be heard from a distance, and our troops
fell back, forming three lines, making elaborate preparations for a
battle; but, as on the previous day, the cannonading soon ceased, and
everything became quiet.
On the 29th it was reported that the rebels had fallen back. Our
cavalry moved to the front, while our battery remained in position upon
Loudon Heights, with the three lines of infantry in front.
All excitement had subsided by the 30th, and although cannonading could
be heard occasionally, it was at such a great distance that it had no
terrors for the citizens, and they began slowly to return home. Several
regiments of cavalry and mounted infantry passed our position on their
way to the front.
It will be of service for a fuller understanding of our situation if we
spend a few moments in explanation. It was expected by Gen. Burnside
when he entered East Tennessee with the Twenty-third Corps, that the
Ninth would soon follow; but the surgeons' reports convinced him that
this would be impossible, fifty per cent., perhaps more, of the men of
that command were down with malarial fever. The commander, Gen. Parks,
was very sick, and could not be expected to do duty for a month at
least; Gen. Welch, the second in command--a man much admired by the
members of the Ninth--had died from the disease, at Cairo. Regiments
had been reduced until many of them could not muster more than a
hundred men for duty; while the batteries could hardly find men enough
to take care of the horses. Truly, the swamps around Vicksburg had
proved to be a more destructive enemy than the rebels.
Becoming convinced that the corps must be allowed to recuperate before
attempting a march so full of difficulties as the crossing of the
Cumberland Mountains, he ordered that they should rendezvous at Crab
Orchard, and give the corps a much needed rest, but they had not had
time to fully recuperate when Gen. Burnside's pressing need of more
troops compelled him to order the corps to join him in East Tennessee
as soon as possible.
On Sunday, Sept. 20th, the advance of the Ninth Corps passed through
Cumberland Gap and bivouacked in Tennessee, and by long, difficult and
continuous marches, reached Knoxville on the afternoon of the 26th.
It was the timely arrival of the Ninth which enabled Gen. Burnside to
send the Twenty-third Corps to Loudon and below, making a demonstration
of such strength that the rebel Gen. Forrest concluded not to hazard
an attack, but fell back towards Chattanooga.
From Oct. 1st to the 5th our battery remained in the forts at Loudon.
Each day details were made to accompany the three wagons upon forage
trips, and many are the pleasant episodes recollected of those
occasions. Seldom did those teams return to camp without the carcass
of a slaughtered hog or a fine sheep underneath its load of corn on
the ear. The citizens had kindly planted a liberal supply of that
improvement upon the sweet potato--those golden yams--and any foraging
trip which did not produce a large stock of them upon its return, was
pronounced a failure.
Most of the boys will remember trips of this sort, when the distance
from camp made it necessary that they should remain out over night.
How gladly they accepted an invitation to spend the night with the
people at whose house they happened to be--if they received such
invitations--and how persistently they demanded such hospitality from
those who did not extend the invitation.
It is well remembered by some of us how much we were embarrassed upon
the occasion of our first experience in spending the night with those
people. Most of their homes were log cabins, containing but one room,
and as it most always happened that the family consisted of mother
and from one to seven daughters, it became a vexed question with us
as to how the act of retiring would be accomplished; and as the time
for retiring approached, we became anxious. It was all unnecessary,
however, for when the time came, the women arose, threw a straw bed
upon the floor, with blankets, produced a curtain, which they hung
across the centre of the room, bade us good night, and retired to their
side, leaving us to go to bed at our leisure.
Oct. 5th our troops fell back from Athens, and crossed to the north
side of the Tennessee River upon the pontoon bridge at Loudon.
Oct. 6th our battery received orders to report to our old division
(First) Ninth Corps, at Blue Springs, distant about ninety-seven
miles. It was reported that the enemy were advancing from Virginia,
threatening our communications with Cumberland Gap, and on the 3d Gen.
Burnside had ordered the Ninth Corps to oppose them. All the infantry
were carried on the cars, and in order that the battery should reach
the objective point as soon after the infantry as possible, they were
hurried along at the rate of thirty miles a day.
Fortunately our horses were in a much better condition than they had
been for some time. Since our long march to New Market and back, Sept.
15th to 21st, they had had but little work to do, and with liberal
feeding on grain and much opportunity to graze, they had gotten into
very good condition.
We left Loudon at noon on the 6th, and reached Bull's Gap about dark on
the 9th. We found the roads in very good condition, the streams were
low, lessening the difficulties of fording, in fact everything seemed
to work favorably for the accomplishment of this long march.
Oct. 10th we passed through the Gap towards Blue Springs, but very soon
came up with our division, posted in line-of-battle along Lick Creek.
Capt. Buckley reported his arrival, and was told to hold himself in
readiness to move against the enemy.
Soon Gen. Burnside appeared and ordered the line to advance. Our
cavalry encountered the enemy a mile or two south of Blue Springs, and
a rattle of musketry ensued for a few minutes, when the enemy retired
to their reserve line and maintained a fire upon our skirmishers.
It was Gen. Burnside's desire to capture as many as possible of the
enemy, and for that purpose he sent Col. Foster's brigade of cavalry
around to seize and hold the roads in the Confederates' rear. When
sufficient time had been allowed for the colonel to reach his position,
our troops in front attacked the rebels, and a sharp, hotly-contested
battle upon both sides was continued until dark.
Our men had succeeded in driving the enemy from their position, and
after forming in a new position were ordered to lay upon their arms
during the night, prepared to assault the enemy at daylight. Next
morning our line advanced at daylight, only to find that the enemy had
abandoned his position--Col. Foster not having reached their rear in
time to intercept their retreat.
Our battery had been in position all day, but did not open fire until
nearly dark, when we threw a few shots at a rebel battery.
Our troops pursued the enemy nearly twenty miles, Battery D
accompanying them. Cannonading was heard in the vicinity of Greenville
soon after we started, showing that the enemy were some distance in
advance of us. It was nearly noon when we passed Greenville, and four
o'clock as we reached Rheatown, about nineteen miles from our bivouac
of the previous night. Continuing for a mile further, we halted for the
night.
On the 12th our cavalry reported the enemy so scattered that further
pursuit would be useless. Early in the afternoon the battery moved
back through Rheatown and encamped on the other side of the valley, in
proximity to the troops of our division.
Next morning, Oct. 13th, the army started on its way back to Knoxville.
Although there was no special haste in our return movements, it seemed
to me that very good time was made by the battery. Our first bivouac
was made at Blue Springs, near the battlefield, a distance of twenty
miles; that of the 14th at Morristown, a distance of twenty-five
miles; that of the 15th at New Market, a distance of twenty-three
miles: that of the 16th at Armstrong's Ford, on the Holston River, a
distance of twenty miles; and that of the 17th at Temperance Hill,
Knoxville, a distance of eight miles, making ninety-six miles, which
added to one hundred and seventeen, the distance from Loudon to
Rheatown, gave a total of two hundred and twenty-six miles traveled by
the battery between the 6th and 17th of October--an average of a little
more than twenty-two miles for each of the eleven days. Oct. 18th and
19th, the battery lay in camp in Knoxville.
Late in the afternoon of the 19th orders were received to have the
battery prepared to move at an early hour next morning. Requisition had
been made for more horses, and the division quartermaster had promised
Capt. Buckley that he should have them promptly; but as yet they had
not materialized.
Next morning, the horses not having arrived, the battery left Knoxville
with only four pieces, one section being left behind because of lack of
motive power. During the march cannonading was heard in the direction
of Kingston. We were getting rather used to that sort of thing, and
would not have been much surprised had the sound of cannonading reached
our ears from all points of the compass at one and the same time. We
bivouacked that night near Campbell's Station, about seventeen miles
from Knoxville.
Oct. 21st our battery was in motion at daylight, towards Loudon. After
passing Lanoir's Station we continued on towards Loudon for about two
miles, where we halted for about an hour, after which we countermarched
back to the station and made camp. Lanoir's Station at this time was
a large--perhaps the largest--plantation in East Tennessee, belonging
to a Dr. Lanoir. Its land was very extensive and beautifully situated.
The station consisted of the doctor's mansion, farm buildings, yarn
factory, houses for his overseers, and a hundred or more negro huts,
making a very sizeable settlement. Lanoir was a large owner of slaves,
and, as may be imagined, a very pronounced secessionist.
A good many of us felt inclined to forgive the doctor for all the hard
things he said of and to us Yankees, because of his wisdom--from our
standpoint--in planting such an extensive cornfield, many of us being
willing to make oath that it extended for four miles along the road
towards Campbell's Station--for our use. It certainly was for our men,
and the doctor's part in it was simply that of an instrument in the
hands of a higher power.
Oct. 22d we were ordered to Loudon. We moved out of park about one
o'clock in the afternoon, crossed the river on the pontoon bridge,
and camped at sunset. On the next day it looked a little as though we
should have a brush with the enemy.
On the 24th the battery wagons, forge, and all surplus baggage was sent
to the north side of the river. The right section of the battery, left
at Knoxville for want of horses, returned to us on this evening.
Oct. 25th, 26th and 27th were days of perfect quiet. Towards evening on
the 27th we received orders to be ready to move in the morning.
On the morning of the 28th all our troops on the south side of the
Holston River were withdrawn, the pontoon bridge taken up, and the
Ninth Corps fell back to Lanoir's.
On the 29th our camp was changed a short distance, just on the edge
of a fine grove of pine trees. When the battery was parked, the men
were ordered to the front, and Capt. Buckley addressed them, saying:
"This spot will probably be our winter camp, and I desire that each
detachment build for itself log cabins, from the materials in sight."
As soon as the line was dismissed, the men commenced staking out their
locations, and felling the trees preparatory to the building of their
houses. The material was of the very best, straight as an arrow, and of
about uniform size; they were just what was needed for this purpose,
and could be laid one upon the other so closely that it was unnecessary
to do but very little "chinking."
Day after day the men worked at this hut-building, and as they
progressed became more and more interested in them. An immense amount
of labor was expended upon these huts, the desire of each detachment to
equal if not excel the others, resulting in the production of some very
excellent cabins.
Chimney-building was by far the most difficult and intricate part of
the work. These were built of wood and clay, the base being built
of quite large logs, growing smaller as the chimney rose in height,
until as it neared completion the sticks were the size of ordinary
kindling-wood. As the wood-work was laid it was thickly plastered with
clay both inside and out, which soon became as hard as a brick after
fires had been kindled in the fire-places.
By the 5th of November many of the huts had been roofed in and were
occupied by the men. Improvements, however, were being constantly
added, such as securing boards for flooring, and building of bunks
one above the other. The making of mattresses, by carefully picking
over pine boughs, removing the larger sticks, then with an old blanket
covering the boughs and carefully tacking it all around, resulting when
finished in a most delightful bed.
The officers' quarters were of course finished before those of the
detachments, because they had at their command the whole mechanical
ability and muscular strength of the battery, and were occupying their
finished huts by the 6th of November.
With perhaps a single exception, the detachments did not occupy
theirs, fully completed, until the 13th. Certainly no member of
Battery D will fail to recollect that night; seated around those
fire-places in which were roaring fires, they gave perfect freedom to
their imagination and built castle after castle of great magnificence,
in which the certainty of a winter of ease, comfort and happiness
predominated. Luxuries were promised, a rumor prevailing that some of
our enterprising scientific comrades of the centre section had secured
a still, and within a week or two would be prepared to furnish us good
Bourbon whiskey, at a moderate advance over the cost of production. We
went to bed that night feeling that we had all the comforts of home
that a soldier could possibly expect, and were soon lulled to sleep by
the contentment of our surroundings, and the delightful aroma of our
pine beds.
At daylight on the morning of the 14th we were awakened from a most
refreshing sleep by first call, and almost immediately were astonished
to hear heavy artillery firing in the direction of Loudon. Each man sat
up in bed and looked at his comrade. "What does that mean?" they asked
each other.
Just at that moment a member of the detachment who had been on guard
entered, and was eagerly plied with questions as to what was up. He
could only tell us that there seemed to be considerable commotion
among the infantry around us, and that two regiments of cavalry had
just passed our camp in the direction of Loudon. Five minutes of such
cannonading as we had been listening to convinced us that this was not
an ordinary cavalry raid such as we had been engaged in following for
the past three months, and our hearts sank within us. Evidently there
was trouble ahead.
We were soon dressed, and hurried into line to answer to the assembly
call. After roll-call had been completed and the line broken, the
buglers were ordered to sound "Boots and saddles," which thoroughly
convinced us that we were in for it. Breakfast was hurriedly prepared
by the men, and by the time it had been partaken of, the troops in
our vicinity were in motion, going in the direction of Loudon. A cold
rain which had set in sometime during the night, added much to our
depression.
From a despatch-bearer we learned that Gen. Longstreet had been
detached from Gen. Bragg's army at Chattanooga and sent north to
capture or delay the Army of the Ohio, and was now attempting to cross
the Holston River, at Huff Ferry, just below Loudon; in which effort he
was being opposed by Gens. Potter and White and part of the Ninth and
Twenty-third Corps, with success.
From our information of to-day we know that these generals, together
with many others in our army, and also the members of Gen. Burnside's
personal staff, believed that it was possible for us to prevent Gen.
Longstreet from crossing the river, or even defeat him in battle, and
so expressed themselves to Gen. Burnside, who had astonished them by
declaring his intention to retreat to Knoxville.
Understanding the plan of Gen. Grant (who had succeeded Gen. Rosecrans
in command of the Army of the Cumberland) as he did, he realized that
he could do Gen. Grant a greater service by drawing Gen. Longstreet
to Knoxville, thus taking him away from Gen. Bragg, and making that
general's defeat by Gen. Grant more certain.
Our battery remained all day of the 14th in park, with the teams
hitched up and attached to the carriages, expecting every moment to
be ordered to the front. One battery of our division, Capt. Roemer's,
moved out of park, and started toward Loudon about eleven o'clock in
the forenoon, and again we looked for the expected order.
Sharp skirmishing, with an occasional artillery duel, continued all
day. Just at night our troops advanced upon the enemy and drove them
back to their bridge-head, where they held them during the night.
On the morning of the 15th Gen. Burnside ordered a retreat upon
Lanoir's Station, and by daylight the whole command was upon the
road, followed by the enemy, they pushing their skirmishers forward
with considerable caution. At dark that night our army bivouacked at
Lanoir's, and with the exception of a rather vigorous attack upon our
lines at ten o'clock in the evening, which was easily repulsed, we were
not further molested.
After dark on the 14th the men of the battery not on guard improved
their last opportunity to enjoy one more night in their huts. It was
noticed that there was none of that happiness and hilarity which had
prevailed to such an extent the night before. The faces of the men
expressed an amount of seriousness which had not been present then.
The morning of the 15th still found the battery waiting for orders to
move. Early in the morning troops of the Twenty-third Corps began to
pass our camp, and as it seemed to us, in some confusion, but Gen.
Burnside soon appeared and restored order, after which everything moved
with clock-like precision.
Just before five o'clock in the afternoon the battery moved out of
park to the road, and commenced its march towards Campbell Station.
Not more than three miles had been accomplished before we began to
have trouble. The rain which had commenced the night before still
continued, and had softened the clayey soil of the road into a clinging
substance which made it almost impossible to move the battery. There
was a series of hills to climb, and our only way was to take the horses
from the caissons and put them on the pieces, and haul them to the
top of the hill, and then go back and haul up the caissons; this was
repeated several times before we had reached the railroad crossing. It
was now three o'clock in the morning, and the officer commanding the
rear guard informed us that we must get ahead at once, as he should
be unable to hold his position after daylight, as Gen. Longstreet's
advance was close at hand. Capt. Buckley had in the mean time sent word
to Gen. Burnside of our situation, and he had ordered some mule teams
to our relief. The teams soon made their appearance, and the mules were
quickly hitched on, and we were on the move again. The wagons that had
been left in order to send us (and also the other batteries) the mule
teams, were burning as we passed them, as it was impossible to move
them.
By this time it had grown quite light, and the rapidly increasing fire
in our rear and on the left convinced us that we were being pushed by
the enemy. As an incentive to increase our efforts and hurry us along
during the night, we had been frequently told that unless we reached
the junction of the Kingston and Loudon roads before daylight, we
should be cut off and become prisoners of war to Gen. James Longstreet.
It was now long past daylight, and we were several miles from the
junction. Fortunately for us our pursuers had been unable to reach that
point.
Gen. Longstreet had detached a column under Gen. McLaw and ordered him
to proceed by the Kingston road to this point. Having secured a guide
perfectly familiar with the road, but who, unfortunately for Gen.
Longstreet's plans, happened to be a staunch Union man, who became so
strangely mixed in his bearings that when daylight appeared Gen. McLaw
found himself several miles from his objective point.
In the meantime Gen. Burnside had sent Gen. White with his division
out upon the Kingston road, with orders to extend his line to the left
until it joined the right of the Ninth Corps, and hold the enemy until
the artillery had passed.
It was shortly after ten o'clock in the forenoon when Battery D passed
the Kingston road, and continued on towards the village of Campbell
Station, noted as the birth-place of Admiral Farragut. Passing through
this village we were ordered into position upon the right of the road,
about half way up a long, steep hill, above the village.
Just before we went into position our hearts were rejoiced by the
discovery of one of our pieces and its caisson which we had about given
up as lost, fearing that it must in some manner have missed its way
and been overtaken by the enemy. Sergeant Gray explained his early
arrival by saying that, becoming convinced that being obliged to render
assistance to less fortunate teams was rapidly exhausting his own
teams, he determined to push on as fast as possible, and wait for the
battery at the station.
At this time Benjamin's battery of twenty-pound Parrotts was in
position upon the right of the road, some distance below our battery.
Gettings was on his right, while Von Sehlen was in position in line
with us, on our left.
When at twelve o'clock the enemy opened upon us, it was found that
Benjamin's and Gettings' positions were not favorable for their heavy
rifled guns, and they were moved to the left of the road, upon higher
ground a little in our rear.
Our infantry was posted across the Kingston road, beyond the creek
which ran through the village at the foot of the hill upon which we
were. The centre was held by White's division, Twenty-third Corps,
while the Ninth, which had retired from the front and formed in the
rear of these troops, took position upon the right and left of this
division.
Benjamin, Roemer and Gettings opened upon the enemy a most terrific
fire from their rifled guns. Our battery was unable to throw its shells
far enough to reach the enemy, and was obliged to content itself with
an occasional shot at their skirmishers.
We soon saw a heavy line of skirmishers advancing out of the woods in
our front, and with perfect nonchalance approach a ravine only a short
distance from one of our batteries, carrying their guns at a trail. The
coolness of the act made it somewhat doubtful as to whether they were
friend or foe.
Sergeant Gray, who was some distance in front of the battery on the
pike, took in the situation at once, and tried a shot at them with his
carbine, and was severely reprimanded by an officer standing near,
for firing at our men. A moment settled the question, however, for no
sooner had they reached the ravine than they dropped out of sight, and
instantly there came the pop, pop, pop of their rifles, and the officer
who had objected to their being treated as foes, had lost a horse.
The rebels who had so boldly sought this position had failed to notice
one of our regiments, which lay under cover of a building to their
right, which position gave then an enfilading fire the entire length
of that ravine, and in a few seconds the rebels found themselves in a
place hotter than they had ever been in before, and one which they were
glad to vacate as soon as possible.
Soon after the failure of the enemy to drive our centre, they made a
vigorous assault upon the right of Christ's brigade, Ninth Corps. Our
battery was ordered to change its position and direction of its fire,
to co-operate with this brigade, and we shelled the woods upon the
right with such good effect as to check the progress of the enemy in
that direction. It was while executing this movement that the men of
our battery became thoroughly convinced of the utter impossibility of
successfully manoeuvering light artillery with mules as a motive power.
No sooner was the attempt made to limber the pieces than each
individual mule commenced a performance of his own, entirely at
variance with that of his mate, which soon resulted in a tangle that
was exceedingly discouraging to the men. In some of the teams half
the mules seemed determined to run away, frightened by the bursting of
the shells, while its effect upon the rest of the team was to create
a determination not to move a step. Some of them were seized with
an irresistible desire to climb over each other, in many instances
elevating themselves to such a degree as to lose their balance and go
over backwards, in one or two instances falling upon the men who were
trying to control them.
An instance of the perverseness of these animals came very near
depriving the battery of one of its most valued members, Sergeant
Spencer, of the first piece, who found himself at the beginning of the
execution of this order to change positions, with his gun limbered,
to which was attached a team of mules, but without a driver, who had
mysteriously disappeared. There were none of his companions present who
felt competent to drive this team, nor did the sergeant himself have
the utmost confidence in his ability to successfully manage them; but
something must be done, and that quickly.
Riding up to the nigh wheel mule he seized the jerky-line--the use of
which he knew to consist of a rapid succession of jerks when it was
desired that the leaders should turn to the right, while a steady pull
would cause them to turn to the left--and started the team. It was his
desire that the gun should move in the middle of the road, but the
mules preferred the side close to the fence, and as they were masters
of the situation, that was where the gun moved.
It was very uncomfortable for our comrade, the uneven character of
this part of the road constantly throwing the wheel mules against his
horse and obliging him to lean for support upon the rail fence at his
side. Very little progress had been made, and the sergeant had but
just rested his hand upon the fence when a rebel shell carried away
the uprights of the fence within a foot of his hand. It was a natural
impulse which caused him to remove his hand instantly from its resting
place. This convinced Sergeant Spencer that it was time to assert his
authority over those mules. Dropping the jerky-line, he rushed to the
leaders, forced them into the road, and soon had the gun up with the
rest of the battery.
This last position held by our battery, was upon very high ground,
overlooking the entire field occupied by both Union and Confederates,
and save an occasional disappearance behind a ravine or into scattered
clusters of woods, the manoeuvering of the Ninth and Twenty-third Corps
was in plain view. It was a grand panoramic martial picture which was
unfolded to our vision that afternoon.
The rebel host, commanded by Gen. Longstreet, upwards of twenty
thousand strong, composed of such well-known fighting troops as
McLaw's and Hood's divisions, of Alabama, South Carolina, Georgia
and Mississippi regiments, to which had been added for this occasion
Buckner's division, commanded by Gen. B.R. Johnson, had started from
Chickamauga, flushed with their recent victory over Gen. Rosecrans,
upon a pleasure trip up the Tennessee Valley as far as Knoxville.
Pardonably proud were the first two divisions of that army at the
record of their prowess and success gained upon many of the hardest
fought battlefields of the war; and when camp rumors placed the foe
opposed to them to consist of a single corps of inexperienced troops,
it was not surprising that they should have entered upon this campaign
with a feeling that there would hardly be excitement enough in the
journey to make it interesting. This feeling was strengthened somewhat
when, upon arriving at Huff Ferry, on the Tennessee River, they found
us so willing to leave their front and retreat.
It is entirely probable that our foes entered upon this, their first
battle with us, having very little respect for our fighting abilities,
and a somewhat exaggerated opinion of their own, forgetting that
"pride goeth before a fall," and that it is always well to respect your
enemy's ability until you have proved his weakness.
The independent, indifferent way in which the rebel skirmish line
advanced, has already been described. The advance of his main force in
three columns, soon followed the repulse of his skirmishers, and then
began to occur surprises of which our enemy had little dreamed.
The eight or ten batteries of the Ninth and Twenty-third Corps opened
upon their lines as soon as they became uncovered, with such an
accuracy of range and correct judgment of distances as to keep the air
in front and about them well filled with bursting shells and case shot,
which must have convinced them that if these were new and inexperienced
troops which were opposing them--which they had been told we were--then
we must have made wonderfully good use of our time.
It will be easy, they think, to brush asunder this line of blue which
they see just in advance; but this line of blue rises up and delivers
volley after volley into the rebel ranks, absolutely refusing to be
brushed aside, and in a moment our over-confident foe is falling back
in a confused, uncertain way, as though they were not quite sure what
had happened. Indeed, it required one trial more before they were
willing to believe that our troops would not throw down their arms and
retreat at their approach.
A second repulse convinced our enemy that a direct attack would not
be a brilliant success; he then opened his artillery, and began a
series of flank movements, which were promptly and successfully met and
frustrated by Gen. Burnside.
About half-past five o'clock in the afternoon our battery was ordered
to pull out of our position, section at a time, and commence our march
towards Knoxville. The right section went first, then the centre, and
last the left. During this time a long-range battery of the rebels
was making it very uncomfortable for us. The twenty-pound shells were
falling and exploding unpleasantly near, creating a great disturbance
among our mules; indeed it required the united efforts of our own men,
together with a large detail of infantry, to control them sufficiently
to limber our pieces. At last it was accomplished, and considerably
after dark we reached the road, and made as rapid progress as possible
towards Knoxville.
This was our second night out, and it found every man thoroughly
exhausted. For thirty hours the men had not slept or partaken of food,
excepting a little corn bread, and were covered with mud from head to
foot, which the freezing weather had stiffened, making it difficult
to walk, adding to our uncomfortable condition. Many would have lain
down by the roadside for rest if they had been allowed to do so, but
infantry carefully patrolled the road and for a considerable distance
on either side. Anyone found inclined to take a nap was aroused and
started on his way.
The battery reached Knoxville at about three o'clock in the morning,
and went into camp near an earthwork, afterwards called Fort Sanders.
The troops began to arrive about daylight on the 17th, and were
assigned to positions in the defence line of Knoxville, by Capt. O.M.
Poe, Chief Engineer, Army of the Ohio.