"We have been here in the vicinity of Jamestown for a few days. We
are out of forage for our horses, and have to get green corn and what
hay, straw, and oats we can find, feeding them also on wheat and rye.
We are up on the top of the mountains, and the soil is very poor, the
farms small, and there is little forage of any kind; consequently, if
we stay here much longer we shall be driven to pretty close straits for
our horses and possibly for rations for ourselves. We are already short
and very little prospect of any soon, but as long as there is green
corn the men will not starve. The route from Glasgow is very hilly and
rugged, and we had great difficulty in getting our wagons over it. We
are now up on the level of the mountains where it is not so hilly. All
the country is very poor, and the only good features about it are that
it is healthy, has good water, and a goodly number of Union people.
I will take command of the brigade to-day, as General Hobson is still
sick at home. When we are so straitened for forage and rations the
responsibility is great and the task not a very desirable one."
My next letter dated September 2, gave an account of our occupation of
Knoxville, the goal of our long march over the mountains:--
"Yesterday was the proudest day of my life. Sunday last Generals
Burnside and Curtis came up and a juncture of the forces was formed at
Montgomery. My brigade arrived at that place on Saturday in advance of
all other. On Sunday afternoon General Burnside sent for me to report,
and I received orders to move my brigade five miles to the front. This
seemed to indicate that I would be permitted to keep the advance and
we were all well pleased. But about daylight the First Cavalry Brigade
marched past us and out to the front on the Kingston road, and we had
no orders to move. At sunrise, the Third Cavalry Brigade (General
Shackelford) passed by and out to the front toward the reported enemy
on the Kingston road. I began to be impatient and somewhat disgusted. I
waited for two hours more very anxiously, but no marching orders came.
"At nine o'clock Generals Burnside and Curtis, with their staffs and
escorts, came up and I thought then we were to go clear to the rear.
But they halted at my headquarters, came in, and after examining the
organization of my brigade, General Burnside held a private interview
with me, in which he told me he wanted me to take my brigade on the
Knoxville road and force Winter's Gap, which would flank the enemy
on the right and compel them to fall back, when, if matters went on
smoothly, he would give me orders to push right on to Knoxville.
Nothing could have suited me better. I would rather then have had
those orders than to have received the commission of a general. So
at 11 o'clock I formed my brigade, and, leaving every one of our
wagons behind, marched to Winter's Gap, arriving there at sundown and
occupied it, finding that the enemy had fled in the morning. I reported
promptly to General Burnside, and about four o'clock yesterday morning
I received orders to push on into Knoxville and occupy the town,
attacking any force of rebels which might be there.
"We were in motion within an hour, and all along the road, as
everywhere heretofore in our march through East Tennessee, we were
received with the warmest expressions and demonstrations of joy. In the
morning I expected that I would not be able to take the town without
a fight, but as my brigade had been assigned the post of honor, I was
satisfied it would do its full duty. A few miles before we reached the
town we ascertained that the rebels had all left, the last of them
that morning. The Fifth Tennessee Cavalry, which was in the advance,
surrounded the town, and about four o'clock yesterday afternoon I
rode into town with the staff and escort, and such an ovation as we
received was never before during this war given to any army. The
demonstration beggars all description. Men, women, and children rushed
to the streets,--no camp-meeting shouting ever exceeding the rejoicing
of the women. They ran out into the streets shouting, 'Glory! Glory!'
'The Lord be praised!' 'Our Savior's come!' and all such exclamations.
The men huzzahed and yelled like madmen, and in their profusion of
greetings I was almost pulled from my horse. Flags long concealed were
brought from their hiding-places. As soon as I could get to a hotel
I was waited upon by the mayor (a true Union man) and a large number
of loyal men, prominent citizens, and they received me with heartiest
congratulations and welcome. All afternoon and into the night until the
provost guard sent all citizens to their homes the streets resounded
with yells, and cheers for the 'Union' and 'Lincoln.' A marked feature
of the loyalty of this section (so different from western Kentucky) is
that the people have no scruples about hurrahing for Lincoln,--they
recognize him as the leader and head of the Government.
"It is stated that last night, after the occupation of the town, the
intelligence was communicated to the people throughout the country
by the firing of guns from place to place and by signal fires on the
mountains. And this morning the streets were crowded with people from
the country far and near, and such rejoicing I never saw before. How
they shouted and stood with uncovered heads beneath the old Stars and
Stripes. With what sincere welcome they met the soldiers. The mayor
of the city brought forth an immense flag, which he had kept, waiting
anxiously for the day when he could unfurl it. This was suspended early
this morning over Main (or Gay) Street, and at the sight of it the
people as they came in from the country yelled with a perfect frenzy
of delight. Early in the day a procession of ladies was formed, and
bearing two American flags, they marched down Main Street and under
the large flag, in order that they might fulfill a vow they made early
in the war that they would in a body march under the first American
flag raised in Knoxville. It does soldiers good to fight for such a
people. It is a labor of love. Every soldier in my brigade has been
paid a hundred times over since we came into East Tennessee for all our
hardships, short rations and exposures, by the hearty welcome of the
people. We can see upon their faces the recognition of the fact that we
have delivered them from a cruel bondage.
"Although the rebels have for five days been removing their property,
we came upon the town so suddenly yesterday that we captured a large
amount of army property, five locomotives, a number of cars, and saved
the mills, foundry, railroad works, hospitals, and other army buildings
from burning.
"_September 3._
"I went yesterday to visit the prison where the rebels kept the Union
men confined. It is a dirty, filthy, jail, hardly fit for the lowest
criminals. I saw the room in which Parson Brownlow was confined. On
the wall of it in large black letters is written,--'_Death to our
persecutors._'
"When we came in on Tuesday the gallows was standing near the railroad,
at the edge of the town, where the Union men were dragged from the
jail and, contrary to all law and civilized warfare, hung like felons
for faithfulness to their Government. You will find something of this
in Brownlow's narrative. I rode over to see it as soon as I could on
the morning after we arrived, and to place a guard over it, but some
enraged soldiers and citizens had gone there before me and cut it down
and burnt it. I was sorry, because it was in a prominent place and I
wanted it preserved as a monument of the wickedness and cruelty of the
persecutors of these people.
"We had this morning a fresh outbreak of patriotism. The news of the
Federal occupation of the town had by last night spread into the
adjoining counties, and the people flocked in from every direction.
A large delegation of men and women of all ages formed in long
procession (from Sevier County) and carrying the American flag, paraded
through the town and out to camp, and the town again ran wild with
patriotic joy. Men who had been hiding among the rocks and caves of
the mountains, and who had not seen each other for years or since the
rebellion broke out, stood grasping each other's hands beneath the
folds of the old flag, while tears streamed down their cheeks. I have
read of 'tears of joy,' but never saw so much of it as here.
"But General Burnside and the rest of the army will be in town this
evening and I must get ready to receive them, so good-bye for the
present."
In my letter of the 7th I gave an account of my first expedition out of
Knoxville:--
"A day or two after his arrival General Burnside sent for me to say
that he had received information which he thought was reliable to the
effect that the rebels had left the railroad up as far as Bristol,
on the Virginia line one hundred and thirty miles, in good condition
and unguarded; that at Bristol there was a round-house and a great
supply of locomotives and cars; and that it was very desirable to get
possession of this rolling-stock, if possible. He proposed that I make
up a train out of the rolling-stock I had captured on my occupation of
Knoxville and go up the railroad as far as I could do so safely, and
reach Bristol if possible.
"It was a new business for me to go a-soldiering on a railroad train,
but I cheerfully undertook the expedition. I had to secure the
engineer and brakemen out of my own command, as there were none others
available. Putting three of the companies of the Sixty-fifth dismounted
on the train, we started out early in the afternoon, hoping to get over
a good part of the road before dark, but within ten miles of Knoxville
we encountered a small bridge burnt, but with the tools we had brought
with us some of our expert railroad men were able to arrange a
temporary crossing for the train. It was nearly dark when we reached
Strawberry Plains, only seventeen miles out, and here we stopped the
train, as I had learned that the President of the railroad lived here,
and he would probably be at home, as he had fled from Knoxville before
our arrival. I took a small guard with me to his house, where I found
him. I explained that our general had sent me on an expedition up
his road toward the Virginia line, and as we had no one on the train
who was familiar with the road, I should esteem it a great favor if
he would accompany us. Seeing the situation with my armed guard, he
accepted the invitation with the best grace possible, but as we moved
off the ladies of the household set up a fearful wailing, beseeching
me not to take him, as they felt sure he was going to his death,
notwithstanding I assured them that no harm should come to him.
"After comfortably seating the President, I took post with the brigade
bugler on top of a pile of wood on the locomotive tender, and the
train moved off at slow speed in the darkness on the strange road,
without a stop until we reached Jonesboro, ninety-eight miles from
Knoxville, after midnight. Here our engineer, not being familiar
with the switches, ran the fore wheels of his locomotive off the
track. While a few of us dismounted to aid in getting on the track
again, I discovered that another train was lying on the track with a
lot of invalid Confederate soldiers, who told us the train had just
arrived that evening from Richmond. About the same time we heard a
great commotion in the town, with loud military commands indicating
the presence of troops. It was very dark and we were strange to the
locality, but I ordered out a platoon of soldiers, who fired a volley
or two in the direction of the noise, which was followed by a great
clatter of horses' hoofs. The next day, as we came back, the citizens
told us that the rebel troopers could be seen in all directions flying
away, some bareback, others without firearms or hats. It proved to be
a detachment of Confederate cavalry stationed in the town.
"At Jonesboro we learned from the station employees that another train
would be due from Richmond about eight o'clock in the morning. Thirteen
miles above that place the railroad crossed the Watauga River, where
there was a rebel blockhouse or fort protected by artillery, and which
we learned was garrisoned. Our only hope of getting to Bristol was
to capture the incoming train and rush our own train unawares into
the fort and take the garrison by surprise. So after leaving a guard
in charge of the train found at Jonesboro, we moved up quietly about
day-break to the first station this side of the fort, surrounded the
town with orders to allow no one to pass out, and we lay quietly in
ambush waiting for the train. Sure enough, it came along on time and
we were greatly elated. But just before it got within gunshot of
our ambush, it whistled down the brakes, stopped, and instantly ran
backwards at full speed and whistling into the fort. Some one had
given them a warning signal, and the fort was at once notified of our
presence. With that our expedition to Bristol came to an end. General
Burnside had been misinformed. The railroad above Knoxville was not
only guarded but was in use from Richmond.
"Our return journey was uneventful except that, as we neared Jonesboro,
some of the soldiers we had scattered had quite dexterously loosened
a rail and slightly displaced one end at a sharp curve in the road
on a down grade, which tumbled our locomotive down an embankment and
disabled it. Several of the soldiers were bruised and the railroad
President got a few slight scratches on his face. Fortunately we had
the captured locomotive, and with it we took all the cars back to
Knoxville. Our return was on Sunday, and as the news of our passing up
in the night had got noised about, the whole country turned out in gala
dress and with flags to welcome us."
My next letter is from Greenville, seventy-four miles above Knoxville
on the railroad, the home of Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of
the United States. It is dated September 12:--
"I have my brigade at this place, as also the One Hundred and Third
Ohio Infantry assigned to my command and stationed here as a provost
guard. Generals Burnside and Hartsuff (corps commander) have been
very pleasant and kind and are disposed to do everything they can
for me. They promise to send me on an expedition by way of Bristol
into Virginia to destroy the Salt Works, probably the most important
movement left in East Tennessee. I am in very good health and spirits."
We were still at Greenville on September 16. My chief trouble seemed
to be with the mails. I had not heard from home for nearly a month. I
write my wife:--
"It has been so long since I have heard from you. How I would
appreciate a letter to-day from my dear wife, telling me about our
family affairs, that she was well, that our dear little children were
well, giving me some of the sayings and doings of my little Alice, to
have some news from Evansville and the families there. If it had not
been that I had so very much to do and such great responsibilities
resting upon me that kept me actively employed, I should have been
lonely, indeed. When I go a-soldiering again I want it along a river or
railroad so I can get some communication with the outer world _and my
wife_.
"I am glad to assure you that in this long interval of suspense I have
been in good health and I think discharging my duties to the entire
satisfaction of my superior officers. I am very well satisfied at being
ordered away from Henderson and placed in active service. It has given
me a very prominent and choice command, and brought me in close contact
with the commanding generals of the army. During the past three weeks
I have been in close and intimate relationship with Generals Burnside
and Hartsuff, and acting directly under their orders.
"We have been for a week at this place in front of an army of rebels
at Jonesboro twenty miles above here, momentarily expecting an attack.
I think that within a few days we will make a movement that will
completely drive them out of Tennessee. If so you may expect to hear of
the Second Brigade dashing away up onto the sacred soil of Virginia. I
have a very good brigade of near three thousand effective men. For the
present I am holding this position with my brigade and two regiments
of infantry till General Burnside comes up with the army which is on
the way. Several times a day I am called to the telegraph office for
conversations over the wires with General Burnside on the situation at
the front and he freely calls for my views as to movements. He is a
very kind-hearted and pleasant gentleman, and willing to give every
officer his full share of credit. I write thus freely to my wife of
these matters because she will be interested to know them and to her it
will not appear boasting or self-praise.
"I wish I had time to prepare a letter for the friends at home on
the state of affairs in East Tennessee, and give a simple narrative
of facts as to what the Union men have suffered. Such cruelty, such
oppression, and heartless wrong has no parallel at least on this
continent. It may have been equaled by the barbarians of Europe. No
wonder that the people receive us with tears and perfect ecstasy of
rejoicing and unbounded enthusiasm. The rejoicing and demonstrations I
have witnessed will be probably the brightest of my reminiscences of
the war. No wonder these people have wept tears of joy at the sight
of the old flag, for it has brought to them freedom from a tyrannical
oppression. It was the happiest epoch of my life to first carry that
flag into Knoxville, and to bear it in the advance along up this valley
for more than a hundred miles, and receive the welcome of the loyal
people. And I hope in a few days to have the honor to say that we have
driven the enemy entirely beyond the borders of the State.
"At our advance men have come to us all bleached and weak, who have
been hiding in the rocks and caves and in pits away from the light
of day for months. Men have been chased through the mountains for
conscription in the rebel service, and a bounty offered for their
arrest or death. Women have been driven from their homes, and their
houses and their all were burnt before them, because their husbands
were in the Union army. The scaffolds were to be seen where loyal
men were hung for suspicion of bridge-burning without any trial
whatever. The tales of cruelty and wrong which I have heard go to make
up a history of tyranny which will be the blackest record of this
slaveholders' rebellion.
"There is a valley over the line in North Carolina about twenty-five
miles from this place, just under the shadow of the Great Smoky
Mountains, almost shut out from the world. The valley along the
creek is rich and inhabited by a bold but simple race of men. These
men, partaking of the true spirit of the mountains, were true and
unalterably attached to the Government, and no bribes or threats
could induce them to go into the Southern army. There was but a small
community of them and they were unanimous. When the conscripting
officers came to take them into the army by force and the foragers
to carry off their horses and provisions, they met them along the
mountain-sides with their squirrel-rifles and drove them back; it was
almost worth a Confederate officer's life to venture into the valley.
Finally they sent a large force of cavalry and Indians among them and
drove the mountaineers before them. They fled to their hiding-places
and none of the men fit for military duty could be found. The cavalry
gathered up all their horses and cattle. The women and children, old
men and boys, were left at home, thinking them safe from conscription.
The savage traitors drove the families from their houses and burnt
them and everything in them. But this was not all. The old men, the
women, and children were driven out of the valley and made to walk
on foot over the mountains and down to Greenville. Old and prominent
citizens of this place have told me that it was the most pitiable sight
they ever beheld. A stout-hearted and manly citizen in talking to me
about it could not restrain the tears, saying that he never related the
circumstances without tears, because it brought the sight so vividly
before him. Women came carrying children in their arms, with other
little ones barefooted and almost naked clinging to their skirts.
There were women of all ages and children driven like sheep before the
soldiers. There were women in a most delicate situation who were made
to walk with the rest; if the suffering were the greater the punishment
was the more appropriate. They were brought to the railway station
and kept over night, and it was the determination of General (called
'Mudwall' in contradistinction to 'Stonewall') Jackson in command here
to send them over the Cumberland Mountains to Kentucky. Governor Vance
of North Carolina heard of the brutal proceeding in time, and declared
that women and children should not be banished from his State so long
as he was its governor, and they were ordered to be returned.
"Since then these men of the Laurel Valley have been the wild men of
the mountains. Their homes have been in the caves and cliffs of the
rocks, and woe to the rebel soldier who came within range of their
rifles. The most vigorous measures have been taken to ferret them out,
but few of them have ever been caught, their hiding-places and their
daring were a good protection. A company of them twice attempted to
break through and cross the Cumberland Mountains to join the Union army
in Kentucky, but were driven back before they could get out of East
Tennessee. Day before yesterday a company of over fifty of these brave
men came over from the mountains and asked me for help. An old man,
who was the spokesman and the wise man of the valley, said they were a
poor, ignorant, wild set of 'cusses' who didn't know much but devotion
to the flag of their country and how to shoot. He asked me to give them
a little good advice and _some guns_. I could not refuse the latter, at
least. I gave them the arms and sent them home, and a merciful God will
have to protect the savages who have murdered their fathers, plundered
their farms, burnt their houses, and driven their wives and mothers
from their homes, for these men with their muskets will not remember
mercy.
"This is no fancy sketch or exaggerated story of the war. It is the
plain, unvarnished truth, to be vouched for by hundreds of citizens of
Greenville. Could you have believed that such atrocity could have been
committed in the land of Washington? This same General Jackson is now
in front of us, and I have been asking General Burnside for days to let
my brigade after him, but he withholds for the present. It will not be
many days before I shall try to capture him or drive him out of East
Tennessee, I hope forever."
The expedition from which I had so greatly longed to drive out the
rebel General Jackson, and which General Burnside had promised, did
not come off. General Rosecrans had suffered a severe repulse at
Chickamauga, and Burnside was ordered to give him what support he
could. This brought all of Burnside's plans above Knoxville to a dead
halt. Bragg's rebel cavalry was reported to have crossed the Tennessee
River and was threatening Rosecrans's rear, and all of Burnside's
cavalry was ordered to follow up Bragg's movement. My next letter
was written at Knoxville, October 1, to which place I had come with
my brigade. On arrival here I was still without letters from home. I
had attempted to telegraph, but could get no replies. Apparently my
disconsolate condition had worked upon General Burnside's sympathy,
as he sent a telegram in his own name inquiring about the whereabouts
and health of my wife, which soon brought an answer that she was at
Evansville and "all well." How this news was received is told in the
letter:--
"You can hardly imagine how gratifying it is to me to know to-night
that my dear wife and children are well, from whom I am so far
separated. I can go to-morrow to execute the orders of the general with
much more alacrity that I now know that you are well and at home.
"Aside from its inaccessibility for the mails, I find East Tennessee
a very pleasant country to be in. The Union people are very kind and
friendly, the climate is very healthy, and the valley of East Tennessee
one of the most beautiful in America. I tell the people here that if
we can get peace again and they will abolish slavery, I would like
very well to come and live with them. I have been very kindly and
considerately treated by them. Being in the advance all the time, I
have been the first to make their acquaintance, and they consequently
know me better than others. I need not live in camp at all while about
Knoxville. I have been here now four days and have had only one meal in
camp. The society of the Union people of Knoxville is very pleasant and
quite cultivated.
"But my visits to Knoxville are only pleasant episodes in my military
life. Cavalry must be active. I am off again. The brigade left
to-night for Loudon, starting at dark in a pitiless rain, and it
has been raining ever since. General Burnside had me wait over here
to-night that he might confer with General Shackelford and me as to
my movements, and he will give me a special train in the morning for
myself and staff. He has invited me to come in the morning and take
breakfast with him, when the matter will be definitely settled and I
will be off. Bragg's cavalry has crossed over to the north side of
Tennessee River, threatening Rosecrans's rear and communications, and
we must do something to checkmate them if possible. I have a good
brigade and the general is disposed to give me work to do. General
Shackelford commands our division now, and is very kind and partial to
me."