CARNIFEX FERRY--TO SEWELL MOUNTAIN AND BACK
Rosecrans's march to join me--Reaches Cross Lanes--Advance against
Floyd--Engagement at Carnifex Ferry--My advance to Sunday
Road--Conference with Rosecrans--McCook's brigade joins me--Advance
to Camp Lookout--Brigade commanders--Rosecrans's personal
characteristics--Hartsuff--Floyd and Wise again--"Battle of
Bontecou"--Sewell Mountain--The equinoctial--General Schenck
arrives--Rough lodgings--Withdrawal from the mountain--Rear-guard
duties--Major Slemmer of Fort Pickens fame--New positions covering
Gauley Bridge--Floyd at Cotton Mountain--Rosecrans's methods with
private soldiers--Progress in discipline.
General Rosecrans had succeeded McClellan as ranking officer in West
Virginia, but it was not until the latter part of September that the
region was made a department and he was regularly assigned to
command. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. pp. 604, 616, 647.]
Meanwhile the three months' enlistments were expiring, many
regiments were sent home, new ones were received, and a complete
reorganization of his forces took place. Besides holding the
railroad, he fortified the Cheat Mountain pass looking toward
Staunton, and the pass at Elkwater on the mountain summit between
Huttonsville and Huntersville. My own fortifications at Gauley
Bridge were part of the system of defensive works he had ordered. By
the middle of August he had established a chain of posts, with a
regiment or two at each, on a line upon which he afterwards marched,
from Weston by way of Bulltown, Sutton, and Summersville to Gauley
Bridge.
[Illustration Map--Affair At Carnifex Ferry]
As soon as he received the news of Floyd's attack upon Tyler at
Cross Lanes, he hastened his preparations and began his march
southward from Clarksburg with three brigades, having left the Upper
Potomac line in command of General Kelley, and the Cheat Mountain
region in command of General J. J. Reynolds. His route (already
indicated) was a rough one, and the portion of it between Sutton and
Summersville, over Birch Mountain, was very wild and difficult. He
crossed the mountain on the 9th, and left his bivouac on the morning
of the 10th of September, before daybreak. Marching through
Summersville, he reached Cross Lanes about two o'clock in the
afternoon. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. p. 129.] Floyd's
position was now about two miles distant, and, waiting only for his
column to close up, he again pressed forward. General Benham's
brigade was in front, and soon met the enemy's pickets. Getting the
impression that Floyd was in retreat, Benham pressed forward rather
rashly, deploying to the left and coming under a sharp fire from the
right of the enemy's works. Floyd had intrenched a line across a
bend of the Gauley River, where the road from Cross Lanes to
Lewisburg finds its way down the cliffs to Carnifex Ferry. His
flanks rested upon precipices rising abruptly from the water's edge,
and he also intrenched some rising ground in front of his principal
line. Benham's line advanced through dense and tangled woods,
ignorant of the enemy's position till it was checked by the fire
from his breastworks. It was too late for a proper reconnoissance,
and Rosecrans could only hasten the advance and deployment of the
other brigades under Colonels McCook and Scammon. [Footnote: For
organization of Rosecrans's forces, see Id., vol. li. pt. i. p.
471.] Benham had sent a howitzer battery and two rifled cannon with
his head of column at the left, and these soon got a position from
which, in fact, they enfiladed part of Floyd's line, though it was
impossible to see much of the situation. Charges were made by
portions of Benham's and McCook's brigades as they came up, but they
lacked unity, and Rosecrans was dissatisfied that his head of column
should be engaged before he had time to plan an attack. Colonel Lowe
of the Twelfth Ohio had been killed at the head of his regiment, and
Colonel Lytle of the Tenth had been wounded; darkness was rapidly
coming on, and Rosecrans ordered the troops withdrawn from fire till
positions could be rectified, and the attack renewed in the morning.
Seventeen had been killed, and 141 had been wounded in the sharp but
irregular combat. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. p. 146.]
Floyd, however, had learned that his position could be subjected to
destructive cannonade; he was himself slightly wounded, and his
officers and men were discouraged. He therefore retreated across the
Gauley in the night, having great difficulty in carrying his
artillery down the cliffs by a wretched road in the darkness. He had
built a slight foot-bridge for infantry in the bit of smooth water
known as the Ferry, though both above and below the stream is an
impassable mountain torrent. The artillery crossed in the flatboats.
Once over, the bridge was broken up and the ferry-boats were sunk.
He reported but twenty casualties, and threw much of the
responsibility upon Wise, who had not obeyed orders to reinforce
him. His hospital, containing the wounded prisoners taken from
Tyler, fell into Rosecrans's hands. [Footnote: A very graphic
description of this engagement and of Floyd's retreat fell into my
hands soon afterward. It was a journal of the campaign written by
Major Isaac Smith of the Twenty-second Virginia Regiment, which he
tried to send through our lines to his family in Charleston, W. Va.,
but which was intercepted. A copy is on file in the War Archives.
See also Floyd's report, _Id._, vol. v. pp. 146-148.]
General Rosecrans found the country so difficult a one that he was
in no little doubt as to the plan of campaign it was now best to
follow. It was out of the question to supply his column by wagon
trains over the mountainous roads from Clarksburg, and the Kanawha
River must therefore be made the line of communication with his
base, which had to be transferred to Gallipolis. In anticipation of
this, I had accumulated supplies and ordnance stores at Gauley
Bridge as much as possible with my small wagon trains, and had
arranged for a larger depot at the head of steamboat navigation. I
was ready therefore to turn over the control of my supply lines to
Rosecrans's officers of the quartermaster and commissary departments
as soon as his wagon trains could be transferred. It was to consult
in regard to these matters, as was as in regard to the future
conduct of the campaign, that the general directed me to visit his
headquarters at Carnifex Ferry. I rode over from my camp at the
Sunday Road junction on the morning of the 15th, found that one of
the little flatboats had been again raised and repaired at Carnifex,
and passing through the field of the recent combat, reached the
general's headquarters near Cross Lanes. I was able from personal
observation to assure him that it was easy for his command to follow
the line of the march on which Floyd had retreated, if better means
of crossing the Gauley were provided; but when they should join me
on the Lewisburg turnpike, that highway would be the proper line of
supply, making Gauley Bridge his depot. He hesitated to commit
himself to either line for decisive operations until the Gauley
should be bridged, but on my description of the commodious ferry I
had made at Gauley Bridge by means of a very large flatboat running
along a hawser stretched from bank to bank, he determined to
advance, and to have a bridge of boats made in place of my ferry.
McCook's brigade was ordered to report to me as soon as it could be
put over the river, and I was authorized to advance some six miles
toward the enemy, to Alberson's or Spy Rock, already mentioned
beyond which Big Sewell Mountain is fourteen miles further to the
southwest. [Footnote: Official Records vol. v. p. 602.]
At Cross Lanes I met the commanders of the other brigades who were
called in by General Rosecrans of an informal consultation based
upon my knowledge of the country and the enemy. I naturally scanned
them with some interest, and tried to make the most of the
opportunity to become acquainted with them. General Benham I knew
already, from his visit to me at Gauley Bridge in his capacity of
engineer officer. I had met Colonel Robert McCook at Camp Dennison,
and now that it was intimated that he would be for some days under
my command, I recalled a scene I had witnessed there which left many
doubts in my mind whether he would prove an agreeable subordinate. I
had gone, one morning, to General Bates's office, and as I entered
found McCook expressing himself with more vigor than elegance in
regard to some order which had been issued respecting his regiment.
My presence did not seem to interfere with the fluency of his
remarks or the force of his expletives, but after a moment or two he
seemed to notice a look of surprise in my face, and his own
broadened humorously as his manner changed from vehemence to
geniality. General Bates and he were familiar acquaintances at the
bar in Cincinnati, and McCook had evidently presumed upon this as a
warrant for speaking his mind as he pleased. When he reported to me
at this later period, I found a hearty and loyal character under his
bluff exterior and rough speech, with real courage, a quick eye for
topography, and no lack of earnest subordination when work was to be
done. Although our service together was short, I learned to have
real respect for him, and sincerely mourned his loss when, later in
the war, he met his tragic death. The other brigade commander was
_Colonel E. P. Scammon_ of the Twenty-third Ohio. He had graduated
from West Point in 1837, and had served in the Topographical
Engineers of the regular army and as instructor in the Military
Academy. In the Mexican War he had been aide-de-camp to General
Scott. He had been out of the army for some years before the
rebellion, and was acting as professor of mathematics in St.
Xavier's College, Cincinnati, when he was appointed to the colonelcy
of the Twenty-third Ohio upon Rosecrans's promotion. Like Rosecrans,
he was a Roman Catholic, though himself of Puritan descent. It seems
that at the time of the Puseyite movement in England and in this
country there had been a good many conversions to Romanism among the
students and teachers at West Point, under the influence of the
chaplain of the post, and Scammon, among a number of young men who
subsequently became distinguished officers, was in this number. It
need hardly be said that Scammon was well instructed in his
profession. He was perhaps too much wedded to the routine of the
service, and was looked upon by his subordinates as a martinet who
had not patience enough with the inexperience of volunteer soldiers.
He was one of the older men of our army, somewhat under the average
height and weight, with a precise politeness of manner which
reminded one of a Frenchman, and the resemblance was increased by
his free use of his snuff-box. His nervous irritability was the
cause of considerable chafing in his command, but this left him
under fire, and those who had been with him in action learned to
admire his courage and conduct. He was with me subsequently at South
Mountain and Antietam, and still later had the misfortune to be one
of those prisoners in the Confederates' hands who were exposed to
the fire of our batteries in front of Charleston, S. C.
But being a subordinate, I was most interested in the
characteristics of our commander. Our Camp Dennison acquaintance had
been a pleasant one, and he greeted me with a cordiality that was
reassuring. His general appearance was attractive. He was tall but
not heavy, with the rather long head and countenance that is
sometimes called Norman. His aquiline nose and bright eyes gave him
an incisive expression, increased by rapid utterance in his speech,
which was apt to grow hurried, almost to stammering, when he was
excited. His impulsiveness was plain to all who approached him; his
irritation quickly flashed out in words when he was crossed, and his
social geniality would show itself in smiles and in almost caressing
gestures when he was pleased. In discussing military questions he
made free use of his theoretic knowledge, often quoted authorities
and cited maxims of war, and compared the problem before him to
analogous cases in military history. This did not go far enough to
be pedantic, and was full of a lively intelligence; yet it did not
impress me as that highest form of military insight and knowledge
which solves the question before it upon its own merits and without
conscious comparison with historical examples, through a power of
judgment and perception ripened and broadened by the mastery of
principles which have ruled the great campaigns of the world. He was
fond of conviviality, loved to banter good-humoredly his staff
officers and intimates, and was altogether an attractive and
companionable man, with intellectual activity enough to make his
society stimulating and full of lively discussion. I could easily
understand Garfield's saying, in his letter to Secretary Chase which
afterward became the subject of much debate, that he "loved every
bone in his body." [Footnote: An anecdote told at my table in 1890
by the Rev. Dr. Morris, long Professor in Lane Theological Seminary,
Cincinnati, is so characteristic of Rosecrans that it is worth
repeating. After the battle of Stone's River (January, 1863) Dr.
Morris, who was then minister of a Presbyterian church in Columbus,
was made by Governor Tod a member of a commission sent to look after
the wounded soldiers. He called on General Rosecrans at his
headquarters in Murfreesboro, and among others met there Father
Tracy, the general's chaplain, a Roman Catholic priest. During the
visit Rosecrans was called aside (but in the same room) by a staff
officer to receive information about a spy who had been caught
within the lines. The general got quite excited over the
information, talked loudly and hurriedly in giving directions
concerning the matter, using some profane language. It seemed
suddenly to occur to him that the clergymen were present, and from
the opposite side of the room he turned toward them, exclaiming
apologetically, "Gentlemen, I sometimes _swear_, but I never
_blaspheme!_"]
Rosecrans's adjutant-general was Captain George L. Hartsuff, an
officer of the regular army, who was well qualified to supplement in
many ways the abilities and deficiencies of his chief. [Footnote:
Hartsuff was appointed brigadier-general of volunteers in the next
year and was severely wounded at Antietam, after which he was made
major-general and commanded the Twenty-third Army Corps in
Burnside's campaign of East Tennessee.] He was a large man, of heavy
frame; his face was broad, and his bald head, tapering high, gave a
peculiar pyramidal appearance to his figure. He was systematic and
accurate in administrative work, patient and insistent in bringing
the young volunteer officers in his department into habits of order
and good military form. His coolness tempered the impulsiveness of
his chief, and as they were of similar age and had about the same
standing in the army before the war, the familiarity between them
was that of comrades and equals more than of commander and
subordinate.
My intercourse with these officers on the occasion of my visit to
Cross Lanes was only the beginning of the acquaintance on which I
based the estimate of them which I have given; but it was a good
beginning, for the cordial freedom of thought and speech in the
conference was such as to bring out the characteristics of the men.
I rode back to my camp in the evening, feeling a sense of relief at
the transfer of responsibility to other shoulders. The command of my
brigade under the orders of Rosecrans seemed an easy task compared
with the anxieties and the difficulties of the preceding three
months. And so it was. The difference between chief responsibility
in military movements and the leadership even of the largest
subordinate organizations of an army is heaven-wide; and I believe
that no one who has tried both will hesitate to say that the
subordinate knows little or nothing of the strain upon the will and
the moral faculties which the chief has to bear.
McCook's brigade joined me on the 16th, and we immediately marched
to Alderson's, where we made a camp afterward known as Camp Lookout.
[Footnote: Official Records, vol. ii. pt. i. p. 481.] I was able to
bring up the Second Kentucky Regiment from Gauley Bridge, giving me
in hand three regiments of my own brigade. I sent forward Major
Hines with five companies as an advance-guard, and with these he
scouted the country as far as the top of Big Sewell Mountain, and
was able to give us definite information that Floyd had retreated as
far as Meadow Bluff, where the Wilderness road joins the turnpike.
Wise halted at Big Sewell Mountain and persisted in keeping his
command separate from Floyd, who ordered him to join the rest of the
column at Meadow Bluff. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. pp.
854,855,862.] On the 20th September my advance-guard occupied the
crest of the mountain, whilst Wise withdrew to a parallel ridge a
mile beyond, and loudly insisted that Floyd should join him there
instead of concentrating the Confederate force at Meadow Bluff.
General Lee reached the latter place in person on the 21st, but
found Wise's headstrong and captious spirit hardly more amenable to
his discipline than to Floyd's. He shared Floyd's opinion that it
was better to await Rosecrans's advance at Meadow Bluff, throwing
upon the National forces the burden of transportation over the
extended line, whilst guarding against a possible turning movement
by the Wilderness road. But Wise was so noisy in his assertions that
his was the only position in which to fight, that Lee hesitated to
order him back peremptorily, and finally yielded to his clamor and
directed Floyd to advance to Wise's position. [Footnote: _Id_., pp.
868,874,878,879.] The scandal of the quarrel between the two
officers had, however, become so notorious that the Richmond
government had authorized Lee to send Wise elsewhere, and, probably
on his advice, the Confederate War Department ordered Wise to report
at Richmond in person. The last scene in the comedy was decidedly
amusing. Wise appealed passionately to Lee to say whether his
military honor did not require that he should disobey the order till
the expected battle should be fought, and Lee, no doubt in dismay
lest he should still fail to get rid of so intractable a
subordinate, gravely advised him that both honor and duty would be
safe in obeying promptly the order. [Footnote: Official Records,
vol. v. p. 879.]
Whilst waiting at Camp Lookout for authority to move forward, an
incident occurred which gave us a little excitement and amusement,
and which shows, better than much explanation could do, the
difficult and intricate character of the country in which we were
operating. A wagon-master from our camp had gone out hunting for
forage, which was very scarce. He soon came back in excitement,
reporting that he had come upon an encampment of a regiment of the
enemy between our camp and New River and somewhat in our rear. His
report was very circumstantial, but was so improbable that I was
confident there was some mistake about it. He was, however, so
earnest in his assertions that he could not be mistaken, that
McCook, in whose brigade he was, sent out an officer with some men,
guided by the wagon-master, to verify the report. The story was
confirmed, and the matter was brought to me for action. Puzzled but
not convinced, and thinking that as McCook's command was new to the
country, it would be better to send some one who was used to
scouting in the mountains, I ordered a lieutenant named Bontecou, of
the Second Kentucky Regiment, to take a small party and examine the
case anew. Bontecou had done a good deal of successful work in this
line, and was regarded as a good woodsman and an enterprising scout.
He too came back at nightfall, saying that there could be no mistake
about it. He had crept close to the sentinels of the camp, had
counted the tents, and being challenged by the guard, had made a run
for it through the thicket, losing his hat. The position of the
enemy was, by all the reports, about three miles from us, diagonally
in rear of our right flank. It now seemed that it must be true that
some detachment had been delayed in joining the retreating column,
and had found itself thus partly cut off by our advance. I therefore
ordered McCook to start at earliest peep of day, upon the
Chestnutburg road (on which the wagon-master had been foraging), and
passing beyond the hostile detachment, attack from the other side,
it being agreed by all the scouting parties that this would drive
the enemy toward our camp. My own brigade would be disposed of to
intercept the enemy and prevent escape. McCook moved out as ordered,
and following his guides came by many devious turns to a fork in the
road, following which, they told him, a few minutes would bring him
upon the enemy. He halted the column, and with a small skirmishing
party went carefully forward. The guides pointed to a thicket from
which the Confederates could be seen. His instinct for topography
had made him suspect the truth, as he had noted the courses in
advancing, and crawling through the thicket, he looked out from the
other side upon what he at once recognized as the rear of his own
camp, and the tents of the very regiment from which he had sent an
officer to test the wagon-master's report. All the scouts had been
so deceived by the tangle of wooded hills and circling roads that
they fully believed they were still miles from our position; and,
bewildered in the labyrinth, they were sure the tents they saw were
the enemy's and not ours. The march had been through rain and mist,
through dripping thickets and on muddy roads, and the first impulse
was wrath at the erring scouts; but the ludicrous side soon
prevailed, and officers and men joined in hearty laughter over their
wild-goose chase. They dubbed the expedition the "Battle of
Bontecou," and it was long before the lieutenant heard the last of
the chaffing at his talents as a scout. [Footnote: Official Records,
vol. li. pt. i. pp. 484, 485.]
Major Hines's reports of the strength of the position on Sewell
Mountain which the enemy had occupied, and my own reconnoissance of
the intervening country, satisfied me that if we meant to advance on
this line, we ought not to give the enemy time to reconsider and to
reoccupy the mountain top from which he had retreated. On
representing this to General Rosecrans, he authorized me to advance
twelve miles to the Confederate camp on Big Sewell, directing me,
however, to remain upon the defensive when there, and to avoid
bringing on any engagement till he could bring up the rest of the
column. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. li. pt. i. pp. 484, 486.]
His means of crossing at Carnifex Ferry were so poor that what he
had thought would be done in two or three days from the time McCook
joined me, took a full fortnight to accomplish.
I marched with my own and McCook's brigades on the 23d September,
but when I reached the Confederate camp where Hines with the
advance-guard awaited me, it was evident at a glance that we must go
further. [Footnote: _Id_., p. 487.] The position was a very strong
one for resisting an approach from our direction, but was commanded
by higher ground beyond. The true crest of the mountain was two
miles further on, and there alone could we successfully bar the way
against a superior force coming from the east. I therefore marched
rapidly forward and occupied the crest in force. It was impossible
to hide the whole of our camp from view and properly hold the
position, but we made use of such cover as we could find, and
prepared to defend the pass against all comers, since it was vain to
attempt to mystify the enemy as to our advance in force.
On the 24th we had a lively skirmish with Wise's legion in front,
and forced it to retire to a ridge out of range of our artillery. We
dismounted one of his howitzers in the engagement, but contented
ourselves with making him yield the ground which would interfere
with our easy holding of our own position and the spurs of the
mountain directly connected with it. Wise had learned that Rosecrans
was not with my column, and on the supposition that the advance was
made by my brigade only, Lee concluded to order Floyd to Wise's
camp, being now satisfied that no movement of our troops had been
made by way of the Wilderness road. It was at this time that Wise
was relieved of command and ordered to Richmond, and Lee found it
advisable to unite his forces and take command in person.
The relations of these three distinguished Virginians had not begun
with this campaign, but dated back to the capture of John Brown at
Harper's Ferry. Wise was then the governor of his State, and
received from Lee the prisoner whose execution at Charlestown was to
become an historical event. Floyd, who himself had once been
governor of Virginia, was then Buchanan's Secretary of War, and
ordered Lee with the detachment of marines to Harper's Ferry, where
they stormed the engine-house which Brown had made his fort. Dealing
with such men as his subordinates, and with such a history behind
them, it can easily be understood that Lee would feel no ordinary
delicacy in asserting his authority, and no common embarrassment at
their quarrels.
Rosecrans was at first disturbed at my going further than had been
expected; [Footnote: Rosecrans's Dispatches, Official Records, vol.
li. pt. i. pp. 486, 487.] but he was soon satisfied that nothing
better could have been done. It is true that I was thirty-five miles
from the supports in the rear, whether at Carnifex Ferry or Gauley
Bridge; but the position was almost impregnable in front, and by
watchfulness I should know of any attempt to turn it in time to make
safe my retreat to Camp Lookout. On the 26th Scammon's brigade came
within easy supporting distance, and General Rosecrans came in
person to my camp. He had not been able to bring up his headquarters
train, and was my guest for two or three days, sharing my tent with
me. Cold autumnal rains set in on the very day the general came to
the front, and continued almost without intermission. In the hope of
still having some favorable weather for campaigning, the other
brigades were brought forward, and the whole force was concentrated
at the mountain except the necessary garrisons for the posts in the
rear. Brigadier-General Robert C, Schenck reported for duty in the
evening of a fearfully stormy day whilst Rosecrans was still my
tent-mate. He had heard rumors of fighting at the front, and had
hurried forward with a couple of staff officers, but without
baggage. My staff officers were sharing their shelter with the
gentlemen who had accompanied Rosecrans, but the new-comers were
made heartily welcome to what we had. In my own tent General
Rosecrans occupied my camp cot; I had improvised a rough bunk for
myself on the other side of the tent, but as General Schenck got in
too late for the construction of any better resting-place, he was
obliged to content himself with a bed made of three or four
camp-stools set in a row. Anything was better than lying on the damp
ground in such a storm; but Schenck long remembered the aching
weariness of that night, as he balanced upon the narrow and unstable
supports which threatened to tumble him upon the ground at the least
effort to change the position of stiffened body and limbs. One could
not desire better companionship than we had during our waking hours,
for both my guests had had varied and interesting experience and
knew how to make it the means of delightful social intercourse and
discussion. The chilly temperature of the tent was pleasantly
modified by a furnace which was the successful invention of the
private soldiers. A square trench was dug from the middle of the
tent leading out behind it; this was capped with flat stones three
or four inches thick, which were abundant on the mountain. At the
end of it, on the outside, a chimney of stones plastered with mud
was built up, and the whole topped out by an empty cracker-barrel by
way of chimney-pot. The fire built in the furnace had good draught,
and the thick stones held the heat well, making, on the whole, the
best means of warming a tent which I ever tried. The objection to
the little sheet-iron stoves furnished with the Sibley tent is that
they are cold in a minute if the fire dies out.
The rains, when once they began, continued with such violence that
the streams were soon up, the common fords became impassable, and
the roads became so muddy and slippery that it was with the utmost
difficulty our little army was supplied. The four brigades were so
reduced by sickness and by detachments that Rosecrans reported the
whole as making only 5200 effective men. Every wagon was put to work
hauling supplies and ammunition, even the headquarters baggage
wagons and the regimental wagons of the troops, as well those
stationed in the rear as those in front. We were sixty miles from
the head of steamboat navigation, the wagon trains were too small
for a condition of things where the teams could hardly haul half
loads, and by the 1st of October we had demonstrated the fact that
it was impossible to sustain our army any further from its base
unless we could rely upon settled weather and good roads.
Lee had directed an effort to be made by General Loring, his
subordinate, on the Staunton line, to test the strength of the posts
under Reynolds at Cheat Mountain and Elkwater, and lively combats
had resulted on the 12th, and 14th of September. [Footnote: Official
Records, vol. v. pp. 185-193.] Reynolds held firm, and as Rosecrans
was not diverted from his plans and was pushing forward on the
Lewisburg line, Lee ordered Loring to report to him with most of his
command. Reynolds, in return, made a forced reconnoissance upon the
Confederate position at Greenbrier River on October 2d, but found it
too strong to be carried. The reinforcement by Loring gave Lee a
very positive advantage in numbers, but the storms and foundering
roads paralyzed both armies, which lay opposite each other upon the
crests of Big Sewell separated by a deep gorge. On the 5th of
October the condition of the Kanawha valley had become such that
Rosecrans felt compelled to withdraw his forces to the vicinity of
Gauley Bridge. The freshet had been an extraordinary one. At
Charleston the Kanawha River usually flows in a bed forty or fifty
feet below the plateau on which the town is built; but the waters
now rose above these high banks and flooded the town itself, being
four or five feet deep in the first story of dwelling-houses built
in what was considered a neighborhood safe from floods. The
inundation almost stopped communication, though our quartermasters
tried to remedy part of the mischief by forcing light steamers up as
near to the Kanawha Falls as possible. But it was very difficult to
protect the supplies landed upon a muddy bank where were no
warehouses, and no protection but canvas covers stretched over the
piles of barrels and boxes of bread and sacks of grain. There was
enormous waste and loss, but we managed to keep our men in rations,
and were better off than the Confederates, in regard to whom Floyd
afterward reported to his government that the eleven days of cold
storms at Sewell Mountain had "cost more men, sick and dead, than
the battle of Manassas Plains."
It has been asserted by Confederate writers that Lee was executing a
movement to turn Rosecrans's left flank when the latter marched back
from Sewell Mountain. If so, it certainly had not gone far enough to
attract our attention, and from my own knowledge of the situation, I
do not believe it had passed beyond the form of discussion of a
possible movement when the weather should become settled. Such plans
were discussed on both sides, but the physical condition of the
country was an imperative veto upon aggressive action.
During the 5th of October our sick and spare baggage were sent back
to Camp Lookout. Tents were struck at ten o'clock in the evening,
and the trains sent on their way under escort at eleven. The column
moved as soon as the trains were out of the way, except my own
brigade, to which was assigned the duty of rear-guard. We remained
upon the crest of the hill till half-past one, the men being formed
in line of battle and directed to lie down till the time for them to
march. Our sentinels had been posted with extra precaution, so that
they might be withdrawn an hour or two after the brigade should
move. Extra reserves were assigned to them, and Major Hines put in
command of the whole detachment, with orders to keep in
communication with me at the extreme rear of the marching column. It
was interesting to observe the effect of this night movement upon
the men. Their imagination was excited by the novelty of the
situation, and they furnished abundant evidence that the unknown is
always, in such cases, the wonderful. The night had cleared off and
the stars were out. The Confederate position was eastward from us,
and as a bright star rose above the ridge on which the enemy was, we
could hear soldiers saying in a low tone to each other, "There goes
a fire balloon--it must be a signal--they must have discovered what
we are doing!" The exaggerated parallax at the horizon made the
rising star seem to move rapidly for the first few minutes, and men,
ignorant of this, naturally mistook its character. In a similar way
an occasional shot on the picket line would be the cause of a
subdued excitement. I doubt if soldiers ever make a night movement
in an enemy's presence without being under a nervous strain which
exaggerates the importance of everything they see and hear, and this
gives uncertainty and increases the difficulty of such duty. It is
no small part of the duty of officers, in such cases, to allay this
tendency to excitement, to explain the situation, and by a wise
mixture of information and discipline to keep the men intelligently
cool and in full command of their faculties.
General Rosecrans had gone with the head of the column, and had left
with me Major Slemmer, his inspector-general, to bring him word when
the rear of the column should be in march. Slemmer was the officer
who, as a lieutenant, had distinguished himself by holding Fort
Pickens in Pensacola harbor at the outbreak of the rebellion. He was
a man of marked character, and in view of his experience it may
easily be understood that we had no lack of interesting matter for
conversation as we paced in rear of the reclining men during the
midnight hours. His failing health prevented his taking the
prominent part in the war that his abilities warranted, but I have
retained, from that evening's work together, a pleasing impression
of his character and a respect for his military knowledge and
talents. In impressing on me the fact that my position was the one
of special honor in this movement, he expressed the wish that
Rosecrans had himself remained there; but the result showed that
hardly less than the commanding general's own authority and energy
could have got the column forward in the mud and darkness. The
troops had marched but a mile or two when they overtook part of the
wagon train toiling slowly over the steep and slippery hills. Here
and there a team would be "stalled" in the mud, and it looked as if
daylight would overtake us before even a tolerably defensive
position would be reached. Rosecrans now gave his personal
supervision to the moving of the wagons and
artillery,--wagon-master's work, it maybe said, but it was work
which had to be done if the little army was not to be found in the
morning strung out and exposed to the blows of the enemy if he
should prove enterprising.
We who were at the rear did not know of the difficulty the column
was having, and when my messenger reported the rear of the preceding
brigade a mile or more from the camp, I gave the order to march, and
my men filed into the road. Slemmer went forward to inform the
general that we were in movement, and I remained with Major Hines
till all was quiet, when he was directed to call in his pickets and
sentinels and follow. I had gone hardly a mile when we were brought
to a halt by the head of the brigade overtaking those who had
preceded us. Word was brought back that the artillery was finding
great difficulty in getting over the first considerable hill west of
the mountain. We ourselves were upon the downward road from the
mountain crest, but our way led along the side of a spur of the
mountain which towered above us on our left. We were in a dense wood
that shut out the stars, and in darkness that could almost be felt.
I rode back a little to meet Hines and to keep some distance between
the column and his little rear-guard. We sent a chain of sentinels
over the hill commanding the road, and waited, listening for any
evidence that the enemy had discovered our movement and followed. An
hour passed in this way, and the column moved on a short distance.
Again there was a halt, and again a deployment of our sentries. When
at last day broke, we were only three or four miles from our camp of
the evening before; but we had reached a position which was easily
defensible, and where I could halt the brigade and wait for the
others to get entirely out of our way. The men boiled their coffee,
cooked their breakfast, and rested. Early in the forenoon a small
body of the enemy's cavalry followed us, but were contented with
very slight skirmishing, and we marched leisurely to Camp Lookout
before evening. Such night marches from the presence of an enemy are
among the most wearing and trying in the soldier's experience, yet,
in spite of the temptation to invest them with extraordinary peril,
they are rarely interfered with. It is the uncertainty, the
darkness, and the effect of these upon men and officers that make
the duty a delicate one. The risk is more from panic than from the
foe, and the loss is more likely to be in baggage and in wagons than
in men. I have several times been in command of rear-guards on such
occasions, and I believe that I would generally prefer an open
withdrawal by day. It is not hard to hold even a bold enemy at bay
by a determined brigade or division, and a whole army may be saved
from the exhaustion and exposure which rapidly fill the hospitals,
and may cost more than several combats between rear and advance
guards.
My brigade remained two or three days at Camp Lookout, where we were
put upon the alert on the 7th by a reported advance of the enemy,
but it amounted to nothing more than a lively skirmish of some
cavalry with our outposts. Lee was glad to move back to Meadow Bluff
to be nearer his supplies, and Rosecrans encamped his troops between
Hawk's Nest and the Tompkins farm, all of them being now within a
few miles of Gauley Bridge. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. p.
253. See also Official Atlas, pl. ix.] Part of my brigade garrisoned
the post at the bridge, but by Rosecrans's direction my own
headquarters tents were pitched near his own upon the Tompkins farm.
Both parties now remained in observation till near the end of
October. Floyd, more enterprising in plans than resolute or skilful
in carrying them out, had obtained Lee's consent to make an attempt
to render our position untenable by operations on the opposite side
of New River. Lee had intended to co-operate by moving against us
with the rest of his force, but on the 20th of October the reports
from the Staunton region were so threatening that he determined to
send Loring back there, [Footnote: _Id_., p. 908.] and this, of
course, settled it that Lewisburg would be covered in front only by
Wise's Legion, commanded by Colonel Davis. Although Floyd complained
of this change of plan, he did not abandon his purpose, but ordering
the militia on that side of the river to reassemble, he marched to
Fayette C. H. [Footnote: Official Records, vol. v. p. 286.]
Rosecrans had distributed his brigades in _echelon_ along the
turnpike,--Schenck's, the most advanced, being ten miles from Gauley
Bridge; McCook's eight miles, where the road from Fayette C. H. by
way of Miller's Ferry comes in across New River; Benham's six miles,
whilst of my own one regiment at the Tompkins farm guarded
headquarters, and the rest were at Gauley Bridge and lower posts
where they could protect the navigation of the Kanawha. [Footnote:
_Id_., p. 253.] McCook by Rosecrans's direction marched to Fayette
C. H. about the 20th of October, and on his return reported that
only guerilla parties were abroad in that vicinity. Rosecrans seems
to have expected that at least a foothold would be kept on the other
side of New River at Miller's Ferry, but McCook left nothing there,
and when he tried to place a detachment on that side about the 25th,
the shore and cliffs were found to be held by a force of
sharpshooters. This marked the advance of Floyd, who established his
camp in front of Fayette C. H. at the forking of the roads to
Miller's Ferry and to Gauley Bridge. [Footnote: _Id_., p. 285.] For
a few days he made no serious demonstration, and Rosecrans hastened
forward the work of clothing and paying his men, recruiting his
teams and bringing back to the ranks the soldiers whom exposure had
sent to the hospital. He had heard in a trustworthy way of Lee's
intention to move against us by the turnpike whilst Floyd advanced
on the other side of the river, but Tie had not yet learned of the
withdrawal of Lee with Loring's troops. He therefore remained quiet
and expectant, awaiting the definite development of events.
As this had been my first service in the field as part of a larger
command, I was keenly alive to the opportunity of comparing the
progress we had made in discipline and instruction with that of
other brigades, so that I might cure defects in my own methods and
improve the soldierly character as well as the administration of my
own command. I was gratified to see in my troops evidence of a pride
in their own organization and a wholesome emulation, which made them
take kindly to the drill and discipline which were necessary to
improvement. I was particularly interested in observing Rosecrans's
methods with the men. His standard of soldierly excellence was high,
and he was earnest in insisting that his brigadiers and his staff
officers should co-operate vigorously in trying to attain it. His
impulsiveness, however, led him sometimes into personal efforts at
discipline where the results were at least doubtful. He would
sometimes go out through the camps in the evening, and if he saw a
tent lighted after "taps," or heard men singing or talking, he would
strike loudly on the canvas with the flat of his sword and command
silence or the extinguishment of the light. The men, in good-humored
mischief, would try different ways of "getting even" with him. One
that gave much amusement to the camp was this: the men in a tent
thus attacked pretended to believe that their regimental
wagon-master was playing a practical joke on them, and shouted back
to him all sorts of rough camp chaff. When the exasperated general
appeared at the door of the tent, they were, of course, overwhelmed
with the most innocent astonishment, and explained that that
wagon-master was in the habit of annoying them, and that they really
had not heard the "taps." I have been with the general in
approaching a picket, when he would hotly lecture a sentinel who
showed ignorance of some of his duties or inattention to them. I
thought I could see in all such cases that it would have been wiser
to avoid any unnecessary collision with the privates, but to take
the responsible officer aside and make him privately understand that
he must answer for such lack of instruction or of discipline among
his men. An impulsive man is too apt to meddle with details, and so
to weaken the sense of responsibility in the intermediate officers,
who hate to be ignored or belittled before the soldiers. But if
Rosecrans's method was not an ideal one, it was at least vigorous,
and every week showed that the little army was improving in
discipline and in knowledge of duty.