THE REGIMENT MARCHES ON JACKSON--JEFFERSON DAVIS’S
HOUSE--SIEGE OF JACKSON--THE REGIMENT UNDER FIRE--EVACUATION OF
THE CITY--A PART OF THE CITY IS BURNT BY THE ENEMY--RETURN TO
VICKSBURG--A HARD MARCH--“FRENCH JOE’S” MULE--THE DEAD OF THE
REGIMENT--RETURN TO CINCINNATI--MARCH OVER CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS
TO KNOXVILLE, TENN.
As soon as the siege was concluded, General Grant immediately turned
his attention to General Johnston, who up to this time had held the
line of the Big Black, watching for a chance to strike our besieging
army. The time had now arrived for the Ninth Corps to perform its part
of the work of that memorable campaign. As soon as General Johnston
learned of Pemberton’s surrender, he began to fall back to Jackson, the
capital of the State. The Ninth Corps under General Parke, together
with General Smith’s division of the Sixteenth Corps, and General W.
T. Sherman’s own corps, all under command of General Sherman, were
ordered by General Grant to pursue the retreating enemy. This movement
began as early as the evening of the 4th of July, but the Brigade of
Colonel Christ did not commence to move till the afternoon of the 7th,
the Twenty-ninth leaving camp at two o’clock in the afternoon. Toward
nightfall the Big Black was reached, the men crossing the river on
a floating bridge which had been constructed by the advance forces.
The march was continued for into the night, no halt being made till
twelve o’clock. The day had been severely hot, and a large number of
the men were left beside the road, where they had fallen, stunned and
bewildered, by the overpowering rays of the sun. When the night came
on, it began to rain, and for a space of two hours the overcharged
clouds poured torrents of water upon the soldiers, who were toiling
along over the muddy roads so faint from exhaustion that they could
scarcely drag one foot after the other. As soon as the halt was made,
fires were kindled, and the men contrived to dry their clothing and
steep a little coffee, the solace of the soldier. That was a wet and
intensely uncomfortable bivouac; there was no recourse left the men
but to spread their rubber blankets upon the flooded earth, and, lying
down upon them, cover themselves with the half of a shelter-tent. They
had barely fallen asleep when the storm broke out afresh, and the rain
came down upon them in great sheets. Sleep was wholly banished, and
huddling around the smouldering fires, the “poor boys” thus passed the
balance of that gloomy night. The day which followed this was also
very hot, and the officers having learned that the troops could not
endure the sun, wisely concluded to allow them to remain quiet till
near nightfall. At four o’clock, P. M., the order came to
break camp, and a long march was performed, the Brigade marching till
one o’clock on the morning of the 9th. On the 9th, the line was formed
as early as six o’clock in the morning; but the men were not hurried
through the day, being allowed to make frequent but brief halts. The
troops halted at nine o’clock in the evening near the plantation of
Jefferson Davis, where the regiment was ordered on guard for the
remainder of the night.
A part of the regiment on this occasion was posted very near the
house of Davis, and though the men were led by curiosity to visit it,
yet they refrained from destroying the property of this prominent
traitor, or committing any acts unbecoming a regiment of Massachusetts
soldiers. As early as seven o’clock on the following morning, the men
having had no sleep during the preceding night, and scarcely any for
three consecutive nights, the regiment was ordered to start. At two
o’clock that afternoon the rear guard of the retreating enemy was
suddenly encountered, a line of battle was quickly formed, and slight
skirmishing ensued; but the Twenty-ninth, though very near the front,
did not become engaged. Toward evening the Confederates retreated, and
our troops started in pursuit, the Brigade proceeding only about two
miles, when it halted for the night on the plantation of Mr. Hardeman,
on the line of the Mississippi Central Railroad.
Early the next morning, while the regiments were resting, the order was
given for the Brigade to go to the front, taking position on a ridge
of land upon which stood the State Lunatic Asylum, about five miles
from Jackson. On the previous day, the enemy had occupied this place,
but were driven from it by the First Division under General Welch. The
Confederates on the 11th held another line of works a little nearer the
city of Jackson, but within easy range of this ridge; the place was
thickly wooded, and the Brigade lay concealed among the trees during
the day, the Twenty-ninth supporting Captain Edward’s Rhode Island
Battery, which did but little firing, however.
When it grew dark, shovels were called into requisition, and every man
in the Brigade was set to work throwing up entrenchments, laboring
till daylight the next morning; but our men were not to be allowed to
enjoy the fruits of their night’s labor, for in the early morning, they
were ordered out of the works, up to the extreme front, in support of
our skirmish line. Fortunately they were not obliged to endure the
scorching rays of the sun, but found shelter in a piece of woods; it
was only a shelter from the sun, however, for the enemy, knowing our
position, poured into the woods a continuous fire of shell, canister,
and spherical case during the whole of the two days that the regiment
was here. The other regiments in the Brigade suffered more or less
loss, but the Twenty-ninth escaped without a single casualty. In
addition to the storm of larger missiles, many of the musket-balls
fired from the enemy’s lines found their way into the woods, and so
severe was the fire, that nearly every tree along our line bore the
marks of the leaden tempest. Many of our comrades had narrow escapes
from death and wounds, one soldier in Company K especially, a ball
passing through his tin dipper, upon which he was resting his head.
On the morning of the 11th, the Brigade was relieved and ordered to
the rear, resuming its former position near the lunatic asylum; but
in the afternoon of the same day it was again ordered forward, and
again supported Captain Edward’s battery. Here it remained till the
morning of the 16th, when an advance of the whole line was made, the
Twenty-ninth passing up under a heavy fire to within forty rods of the
enemy’s works, bristling with cannon, the right of the regiment going
into the rifle-pits. Once in the pits, there was no such thing as
leaving them while it was daylight, and here the “boys” spent the day,
constantly engaged with the enemy’s sharpshooters. Though considerably
exposed, there was but one casualty during the day, Private John Scully
of Company A being instantly killed, the ball penetrating his brain.
The regiment in this position held the extreme left of the picket line
of our army, its right resting in the rifle-pits, and its left in dense
woods, retired so as to form nearly a half-circle.
The night of the 16th was dark, and hence favorable for secret
movements by both besiegers and besieged. About nine o’clock, unusual
noises were heard within the enemy’s lines, resembling the rattling
of wheels. Colonel Barnes became anxious to learn the cause of these
noises, and Captain Clarke was requested to use every effort to
ascertain what, if any, movement was going on in the enemy’s camp.
That officer had no difficulty in carrying out his instructions, for
one of his men, a fearless soldier, named David Scully, unhesitatingly
consented to undertake the perilous task of approaching the hostile
picket line. The ground descended quite rapidly from Clarke’s line
towards that of the Confederates. Scully was left to execute his
adventure in his own way. Prostrating himself upon the ground, he
rolled slowly down the hill, till he approached within a few yards of
the enemy’s pickets, and then pausing, overheard their conversation,
which was to the effect that their army was retreating, and that they
were soon to be relieved. Listening here, Scully heard more distinctly
than before, the noises in the enemy’s camp. They were evidently
removing their guns from the works; and, beside this, the regular
tread of marching men was plainly distinguishable. In due time Scully
returned, making this report. About this time, a similar report was
brought in by Charles Logue of Company F, who went forward into the
woods, very near the enemy, exhibiting great courage. In order to
verify the statements of Scully and Logue, Colonel Barnes, with one
or more of the captains, advanced some distance beyond our picket
line, when they soon became convinced that the whole body of the enemy
was moving. Thereupon one of the sergeants was despatched to General
Ferrero, who was in command of the trenches, with information that
the enemy was moving in large numbers, and shortly after a lieutenant
was sent, with the message that the enemy was abandoning his works and
retiring from the city.
The night was intensely dark, and the ground over which these officers
were obliged to pass, in delivering their messages, beset with
difficulties, being broken, and in some places covered with fallen
timber and a thick growth of bushes. But, like faithful soldiers, they
persevered till they found General Ferrero, when they delivered their
messages. The substance of the reply that was sent back was, “The
movements of the enemy are well understood at headquarters. The enemy
are not retiring.” The rumbling of the enemy’s trains and the neighing
of their horses continued; and the Colonel and his comrades stood at
their posts all night, listening to these sounds, which grew fainter
and more distant every hour, as the Confederates were slipping out of
the grasp of General Sherman, and retiring beyond the Pearl River. When
the night was almost gone, a message was received from General Ferrero,
that the regiment might move forward in the gray of the morning, if
Colonel Barnes thought it advisable.
When the morning came, a flag of truce was seen waving from the enemy’s
works, and at the same time the city appeared to be in flames. During
the night, General Johnston retired with his whole army, artillery,
and baggage, and even the large guns upon his works. As soon as it
was fairly day, the whole line was ordered forward, and the regiment
entered the city. The works were found to be deserted, and the railroad
depot and several public buildings in flames; but the fire was quickly
extinguished by our troops, and thus a large portion of the city was
doubtless saved from destruction. After the regiment had finished
its part of the generous work of subduing the flames, the men were
dismissed for a couple of hours, during which time they contrived to
“do” Jackson quite thoroughly. The gardens were filled with melons and
fruits, but of other and more desirable food there was a small supply.
Everything of much value had been removed, and many of the deluded
inhabitants had followed in the steps of the retreating army, taking
with them their personal effects, thus giving the place the appearance
of a deserted town. The negroes had the good sense to stay, and, as was
invariably the case, they were overjoyed at the appearance of the Union
soldiers, testifying to their happiness in the way peculiar to their
race.
In the afternoon of the 17th, the regiment had orders to leave the
city, marching back to the ground occupied on the 14th. Here it
remained, enjoying much-needed rest, till Monday the 20th. Another
severe march was before them, a march needlessly hard; and at an
unreasonable hour in the morning of the 20th, the reveille aroused the
men from their slumbers.
Before the movement began, an order was issued from headquarters,
detailing Colonel Barnes Provost Marshal of the corps, and the whole
of the regiment as provost guard, with orders to move in the rear
of the corps, and to keep everything--men, horses, and wagons--in
front. This was the hardest duty the regiment ever performed in the
same number of days. For some reason, the march was a forced one; the
weather was of the same tropical character that it had been during the
three weeks previous, and water not only scarce, but of poor quality.
The story among the men was, that the corps was racing with another,
the Sixteenth (?); but the more probable statement is, that the corps
reaching Vicksburg first would take the transports to go North, there
being only a sufficient number of steamers for the transportation of a
single corps. The imperative orders given to Colonel Barnes to prevent
straggling, required constant watchfulness and almost superhuman
efforts, not only on his part, but on the part of his brother officers
and the men. Many soldiers gave out, from the combined effects of
over-exertion and the enervating influence of the weather. On the
second day out, matters in this respect became so bad, that it became
necessary to impress into the service, ox-carts, horses, and vehicles
of all descriptions which could be found about the country, and use
them for the conveyance of the invalids, many of whom had received
fatal sunstrokes. The spectacle which the corps presented on the road
was wholly unbecoming a victorious army: nearly every regiment had lost
even the semblance of an organized body; everybody was straggling
along the roads, some riding in carts, and others mounted upon horses
and mules, while miles in the rear of this mob was the gallant old
Twenty-ninth Regiment, driving the crowd before them. Violent menaces,
and sometimes absolute force, were required to keep the stragglers in
motion.
For want of ambulances, nearly all the wounded in the battles and
skirmishes before Jackson were carried the whole distance from the
latter city to Vicksburg on litters or stretchers by details of men. To
protect these unfortunate soldiers from the sun, hoods made of pieces
of tent cloth were placed about their heads, and green boughs arranged
at the sides of the litters.
A large number of disabled horses and mules were left about the
country, in the track of Johnston’s retreat, and these were
systematically gathered up by General Sherman, when he returned from
Jackson, and driven along to the various landings in the vicinity of
Vicksburg and Milldale, where, together with the horses and other
animals captured by the soldiers on the march, they were delivered up
to the quartermasters. Nearly every company of the Twenty-ninth had a
large number of saddle and pack animals, which they had ridden and used
for the conveyance of their baggage during the march. Company A had
some twenty horses and mules, and Company G nearly as many, when they
returned to Milldale, having, as they swept along the stragglers of the
column, as the extreme rear guard, collected these animals, as well
as the jaded and tired-out men, and their work was much lightened by
these mounts. As the rear guard approached the Big Black, the soldiers
on foot were sent forward into camp, and then about thirty or forty
mounted men came in together, most of the latter being men who had
fallen out or got foot-sore, and had been picked up and mounted to keep
them along with the army.
When one of these motley crowds came in, the commander of the regiment,
who was somewhat indignant at the appearance of the thing, hailed the
captain in command, “I should like to know, sir, what this means; what
sort of a command is this for an infantry officer?” “Irregular mounted
infantry, I should think,” replied the leader, as he looked at his crew.
It was on this march that Captain Richardson’s man, nicknamed “French
Joe,” came to the conclusion that his captain’s mess kit might just as
well be carried by a mule as by Joseph, and, in fact, that the mule
might carry “Joe” too, and took one of the mules for this purpose. He
had only his belt and some old scraps of rope for a tackling; but this
he thought might serve well enough. He contrived a pad out of his own
and the Captain’s blankets, and, warned by the example of John Gilpin,
he attempted to balance his load and to tie it securely to the sides
of the mule, which were well festooned with pots, pans, gridirons,
camp kettles, and tin dippers, giving the animal the appearance of
the “hawker’s” donkey. After all this varied assortment of wares had
been piled upon the animal, Joe kindly allowed a knapsack or two to
be strapped on behind, and then mounted, guiding the mule with a rope
halter. He had not proceeded far before some of the knots began to
slip, for Joe was not a sailor, nor was he a very skilful disposer of
weights. Very soon one of the knapsack straps got loose and insinuated
itself on the inside of the mule’s hind leg. It tickled him--he kicked.
This displaced a camp kettle, which slipped under his belly--he
“buck-jumped,” and unseated Joe. Then all the load shifted, the most of
it getting under the beast’s belly. He curveted and pranced, he reared
and kicked, and cleared the road right and left for more than a mile.
The men scattered on every side, for the mule was in earnest, and was
no respecter of persons, kicking just as viciously at the officers as
at the men. Captain Richardson had no dinner that day, save what he
got through the kindness of others; for his coffee, hard bread, and
bacon, tin plates and cups, flour, butter, and roasting corn--all the
materials of many a savory feast--lay in the dust.
On the 22d, the Ninth Corps reached the Big Black River. General Parke
and his division commanders now deemed it impossible, as it certainty
was disgraceful, for the corps to continue to march in this manner.
The different regiments were here, on the banks of the river, gathered
together, and forced to resume their organization. One whole day was
spent in this work, during which the men were permitted to rest.
Toward evening of the 22d, the corps moved out of camp, and marching
slowly, crossed the Big Black on a pontoon bridge, in the midst of a
pouring rain; the troops camped near the river for the night, and the
next morning started for Milldale. The regiment was the last to arrive,
in consequence of its peculiar duty, and by being the last, lost the
first chance to go on board the transports, and was thus forced to
remain here till the 12th of August.
During the campaign now closed, the roll of the regiment’s dead had
been somewhat increased; and this, with a few exceptions, had been
occasioned by disease contracted in the sickly regions of the Yazoo
and Vicksburg. Private John Scully of Company A, a faithful soldier,
was the first to fall in the campaign, having been killed by a bullet
while bravely doing his duty in the rifle-pits before Jackson, July
16. Second Lieutenant Horace A. Jenks of Company E came next, dying
of malarial fever, July 26. Lieutenant Jenks had at one time been a
sergeant in his company, and was promoted to be second lieutenant for
his good soldierly qualities. His death was mourned by all the members
of the regiment. First Lieutenant Ezra Ripley of Company B, who died
of fever at Helena, Ark., July 28, was a member of the Middlesex Bar
before entering the service. He was a gentleman of liberal culture
and rarest qualities of both heart and mind. No sacrifice for his
country was too great in his estimation, and though not of a robust
constitution, yet he never shrank from any exposure or hardship. He
performed the terrible march to Jackson, but the seeds of disease sown
during those days, already described, soon ripened into death. Private
Lyford Gilman of Company B also died of disease at Vicksburg, August 2.
He was also a victim of the exhaustive march.
When the Ninth Corps was about to leave Vicksburg, General Grant,
desirous of recognizing its services in the late campaign, issued the
following order:--
“HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE TENNESSEE,}
“VICKSBURG, MISS., July 31, 1863. }
[EXTRACT.]
“SPECIAL ORDERS, NO. 207.
“In returning the Ninth Corps to its former command, it is with
pleasure that the general commanding acknowledges its valuable
services in the campaign just closed.
“Arriving at Vicksburg opportunely, taking position to hold at
bay Johnston’s army, then threatening the forces investing the
city, it was ready and eager to assume the aggressive at any
moment.
“After the fall of Vicksburg, it formed a part of the army
which drove Johnston from his position near the Big Black
River, into his entrenchments at Jackson, and after a siege
of eight days, compelled him to fly in disorder from the
Mississippi Valley.
“The endurance, valor, and general good conduct of the Ninth
Corps are admired by all; and its valuable co-operation in
achieving the final triumph of the campaign is gratefully
acknowledged by the Army of the Tennessee.
“Major-General Parke will cause the different regiments and
batteries of his command to inscribe upon their banners and
guidons, ‘Vicksburg’ and ‘Jackson.’
“By order of
“MAJOR-GENERAL U. S. GRANT.
“P. S. BOWEN, _A. A. A. G._”
The time spent at Milldale, after the return from Jackson, was occupied
by the ordinary duties of camp life. The weather continued very warm,
and the destructive effects of the campaign now became manifest. Deaths
were very frequent among the troops here during this time, burial
parties were almost constantly engaged, and the funeral notes of the
fife and drum could be heard nearly every hour in the day. None save
the strongest came out of that campaign in sound health.
On the 12th of August, the regiment embarked on the steamer
“Catahoula,” one of the slowest boats on the river, to go North;
the steamer left Milldale without a sufficient supply of fuel, and
accordingly frequent stoppages on the route, to gather wood, became
necessary. The trip to Cairo, including one day spent at Memphis,
occupied eight days, the boat reaching its destination on the 20th.
At midnight on the 20th, the regiment took the cars for Cincinnati,
reaching that city on the afternoon of Sunday the 23d, and receiving
the same kind treatment as on its two former visits.
At night, the regiment left the city, crossed the Ohio to Covington,
Ky., and went into camp on the outskirts of the town, and remained here
till the 27th. At this time, probably nearly half of all the members
of the regiment were on the sick-list, and unable to do duty. In the
course of a few days they had come from the tropical climate of the
South into the cool bracing air of the West, and now the chills and
fever broke out among them to an alarming extent.
While here, Colonel Barnes left the regiment on a furlough to his home
in Massachusetts; he was very sick from the effects of a malarial
fever and overwork; from the eighteenth day of May, 1861, till he was
seized with this sickness, he had never been off duty, for any cause,
a day,--a fact that is not only remarkable, but, considering the great
hardships to which he had been subjected, one that shows him to have
been possessed of an iron constitution.
The author, in the preparation of this work, has endeavored, as far as
possible, to avoid the diary form of narrative, because he is aware
that such does not interest the general reader; but the record of the
regiment would be incomplete if it did not give somewhat in detail
the events of long and memorable marches, and the various localities
visited by it.
The march from Covington, Ky., into East Tennessee, which we are
about to describe, was one of the longest which the regiment ever
performed, and, for the reasons stated, we shall give a very particular
account of it. On the 27th, it broke camp, under the command of Major
Chipman, went to the railroad station in Covington, took the cars
for Nicholasville, arrived there at seven o’clock the next morning,
and camped near the depot. On the 29th, Colonel Pierce, who had for
several months been absent on special duty in Massachusetts, joined
the regiment and assumed command, and on the same day a march on the
Lancaster pike of about four miles was performed.
August 31. The regiment was mustered for pay; Colonel Pierce ordered
to the command of the Brigade; the Second Michigan Infantry joined the
Brigade, and Major Chipman again took command of the regiment.
September 1. Reveille at four o’clock, A. M. Started for Crab
Orchard, in Lincoln County; spent the night for the third time at Camp
Dick Robinson.
September 2. Reveille at an early hour; marched all day; camped near
Lancaster.
September 3. Another early start. Reached Crab Orchard, a place of five
hundred inhabitants, and abounding with mineral springs. Here and at
Nicholasville convalescent camps were established, and during the time
which the regiment remained at these places, a very large number of its
members went into the hospitals, where not a few of them subsequently
died.
September 10. The Brigade left Crab Orchard, and had a hard march
of about fourteen miles, and went into camp at a place called Mount
Vernon. The road for a considerable portion of the way was very rough
and mountainous, being so steep in some places that the horsemen were
obliged to dismount and lead their animals. The men were in light
marching order, having left the most of their extra clothing at Crab
Orchard, and had eight days’ rations served out to them, being thus
prepared for a long march.
September 11. The reveille sounded at half-past three o’clock in the
morning, and at half-past four the column was in motion. At night,
after a very fatiguing march, the camp was formed near Wild Cat
Mountain, Kentucky.
September 12. The men were routed out early in the morning, and the
day’s march began at five o’clock, but the road was good all day. The
weather, which had been fine ever since the march began, became stormy
at the end of this day, and at night it rained hard. The camp was
formed at London, Laurel County, Ky. On this march the regiment passed
over the battle-field of Mill Spring, where the notorious Zollicoffer
was killed.
September 13 was Sunday. The men were paid off and allowed to rest all
day. Since this famous march began, the Brigade had passed through and
into three counties; namely, Gerrard, Rock Castle, and Laurel. The
country through which they had travelled was thinly populated, and
with the exception of a few wild fruits and nuts which they found on
the journey, the men were obliged to subsist upon their rations. It
has been stated, that the wild fruits which the men ate on this march
proved very beneficial to their health, and resulted in curing them of
the complaints they had contracted in the sickly swamps of the Yazoo.
September 14. The march was resumed at five o’clock in the morning, and
at night a halt was made at Laurel Spring.
September 15. Only a part of the day was occupied by marching, a halt
being made at the town of Barboursville, in Knox County, Ky.
September 16. Marched from Barboursville to Flat Lick; a long march,
pausing till the 19th.
September 19. A distance of about ten miles was travelled this day; the
camp was formed at Log Mountain. The column was nearing the far-famed
Cumberland Gap, and the roads were growing rougher and more broken at
every advance in that direction. The night was very cold, water froze,
and the crops of tobacco, sugar-cane, and cotton in that region nearly
all destroyed. When the sun rose the next morning, it revealed the
earth white with frost.
September 20. At ten o’clock in the morning, the Brigade reached
Cumberland Gap, and entered the State of Tennessee. After passing into
this gap, which was defended by a small force of infantry and cavalry,
the road became more and more elevated, till at last it reached the
summits of the mountains. The view from these heights well paid the men
for all their toil in climbing their rugged and broken sides. In the
far distance, ridge after ridge seemed to rise up toward the heavens,
the highest actually invading the clouds, which, with a beautiful
curtain of blue, hid from sight the lofty peaks. The night was spent in
the mountains near the gap.
September 21. Sycamore, Tenn. Camped for the night. An inquiry having
been made at one of the mountain huts, regarding the distance between
this place and Tazewell, the answer was, “Two rises to go up and two
rises to go down and a right smart plain.”
September 22. Morristown, Tenn. Here the Brigade remained till the 24th.
September 24. Marched to New Market.
September 25. Marched to Holston River and forded it.
September 26. Entered the city of Knoxville.
The distance marched between the first of September and 26th was
something over two hundred miles. The march over the mountains has
furnished the theme of many interesting conversations among the men
who performed it. The hardships of the road were manifold and serious.
It was enough to be compelled to climb day after day the rugged and
precipitous path along the side of these mountains; it was enough,
indeed, to bivouac on their cold and barren summits, with only a single
woollen blanket to protect the foot-sore soldier from the searching
and chilling night-air; but when we add to these discomforts, that
of intense and unsatisfied hunger, which was actually endured during
the entire march, the measure of the sufferings of our comrades seems
full to overflowing. They endured these sufferings and hardships,
however, for a good purpose. Together with the troops which had gone on
before them, they had wrought the long-prayed-for deliverance of East
Tennessee. On the 3d of this month, General Burnside, together with the
Twenty-third Corps and other troops, had entered the city of Knoxville,
the Confederate General Buckner retiring from the place with his army
and retreating toward Chattanooga.
The people of this region had long suffered from rebel rule, and the
barbarities which had been practised upon them have never been fully
related to the world. Some had been imprisoned, others tortured, and
others murdered. Their property had been mercilessly confiscated, and
not a few had been forced to perform military duty in the service of a
cause that they loathed and hated. When the army of General Burnside
appeared bearing the old flag, and the colors of the cruel foe departed
in haste and confusion, the loyal people were overwhelmed with joy.
The flag of the Union, which had been carefully hid under carpets,
concealed in cellars and between mattresses, to save its owners from
persecution, was now brought forth from its hiding-places, and flaunted
on every hand; from windows and liberty-poles, it floated to the breeze.
A considerable part of General Burnside’s army was composed of loyal
Tennesseeans, who had been forced to fly into Kentucky during the
continuance of the enemy’s rule. These native troops, among which
was the cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, son of the famous
parson, “were kept constantly in advance, and were received with
expressions of the profoundest gratitude by the people. There were
many thrilling scenes of the meeting of our Tennessee soldiers with
their families, from whom they had so long been separated. The East
Tennesseeans were so glad to see our soldiers, that they cooked
everything they had and gave it to them freely, not asking pay, and
apparently not thinking of it. Women stood by the roadside with pails
of water, and displayed Union flags. The wonder was, where all the
stars and stripes came from. Knoxville was radiant with flags. At one
point on the road from Kingston to Knoxville seventy women and girls
stood by the roadside waving Union flags and shouting, ‘Hurrah for
the Union.’ Old ladies rushed out of their houses and wanted to see
General Burnside and shake hands with him, and cried, ‘Welcome, General
Burnside, to East Tennessee.’”[41]
These constitute but a small part of all the demonstrations of loyalty
by this intensely loyal people, and this brief account of their
wrongs but a trifling part of the manifold abuses heaped upon them
by a merciless and savage soldiery,--abuses and wrongs of the same
barbarous nature as those perpetrated at Andersonville and Belle Isle,
forming as they do the saddest chapter in the history of the war. It
should be among the proudest boasts of the people of Massachusetts,
that in the persons of her soldiers of the Twenty-first, Twenty-ninth,
Thirty-fifth, and Thirty-sixth regiments, she helped deliver a people
loyal to the old flag from a thraldom such as has been imperfectly
depicted in this chapter,--a thraldom worse than death itself.