boys all talked about Lee, and told how they would pink him if
opportunity offered. But Simon Bolivar Buckner is the man here on whom
they all threaten to fall violently. There are certainly a hundred
soldiers in the Third, each one of whom swears every day that he would
whip Simon Bolivar Buckner quicker than a wink if he dared present
himself. Simon is in danger.
Had the third sergeants in my school to-night. Am getting to be a pretty
good teacher.
10. General Mitchell gave the officers a very interesting lecture this
evening. He is indefatigable. The whole division has become a school.
Had five lieutenants before me. Lesson: grand guards and other outposts.
11. The General summoned the officers of his division about him and went
through the form of sending out advanced guard, posting picket, grand
guards, outposts, and sentinels. During these exercises we rode fifteen
or twenty miles, and listened to at least twenty speeches. My horse was
very gay, and I had the pleasure of running many races. I learned
something, and am learning a little each day. Had the lieutenants in my
school again to-night. Lesson: detachments, reconnoissances, partisans,
and flankers.
12. The officers dress better, as a rule, than in West Virginia. The
only man who has not, in this regard, changed for the better, is the
Major. He continues the careless fellow he was. Occasionally he makes an
effort to have his boots polished; but finds the day altogether too
short for the work, and abandons the job in despair.
14. Every day we have the roar of artillery, the rattle of musketry, the
prancing of impatient steeds, the marching and countermarching of
battalions, the roll of the drum, the clash and clatter of sabers, and
the thunder of a thousand mounted men, as they hurry hither and yon. But
nobody is hurt; it is all practice and drill.
16. People who live in houses would hardly believe one can sleep
comfortably with his nose separated from the coldest winter wind by
simply a thin cotton canvas; but such is the fact.
19. General Dumont called. He is to-day commandant of the camp. The
General is an eccentric genius, and has an inexhaustible fund of good
stories. He uses the words "damned" and "be-damned" rather too often;
but this adds, rather than detracts, from his popularity. He dispenses
good whisky at his quarters very freely, and this has a tendency also to
elevate him in the estimation of his subordinates.
General Mitchell never drinks and never swears. Occasionally he uses
the words "confound it" in rather savage style; but further than this I
have never heard him go. Mitchell is military; Dumont militia. The
latter winks at the shortcomings of the soldier; the former does not.
25. We are not studying so much as we were. The General's grasp has
relaxed, and he does not hold us with a tight reign and stiff bit any
longer.
There is a great deal of sickness among the troops; many cases of colds,
rheumatism, and fever, resulting from exposure. Passing through the
company quarters of our regiment at midnight, I was alarmed by the
constant and heavy coughing of the men. I fear the winter will send many
more to the grave than the bullets of the enemy, for a year to come.
26. A body of cavalry got in our rear last night and attempted to
destroy the Nolan creek bridge; but it was driven off by the guard,
after a sharp engagement, in which report says nine of the enemy were
killed and six of our men.
The enemy is doing but little in our front. A night or two ago he
ventured to within a few miles of our forces on Green river, burnt a
station-house, and retired.
28. The Colonel returned at noon. I was among the first to visit him. He
greeted me very cordially, and called God to witness that he had never
spoken a disparaging word of me. Busy bodies and liars, he said, had
created all the trouble between us. He had heard that charges were to
be preferred against him; he knew they could not be sustained, and
believed it an attempt of his enemies to injure him and prevent his
promotion. He affirmed that he had enlisted from the purest of motives,
and entered into a general defense of his acts as an officer and
gentleman. I listened respectfully to his statement, and then said:
"Colonel, if your conduct has been such as you describe, you need not
fear an investigation. I hold in my hand the charges and specifications
of which you have heard. They are signed by my hand. I make them
believing them to be true. If false, the court will so find, and I shall
be the one to suffer. If true, you are unfit to command this regiment or
any other, and it should be known. I present the charges to you, the
commanding officer of the Third Regiment, and with them a written
request that they be forwarded to the General commanding the division."
He took the package, tore open the envelope, and seated himself while he
read.
In less than an hour Captains Lawson and Wing called on me to report
that the Colonel would resign if I would withdraw the charges. I
consented to do so.
31. Had dress parade this evening, at which the Colonel officiated, it
being his first appearance since his return.
Ascertaining that he had not sent in his resignation, I wrote him a note
calling attention to the promise made on the 29th instant, and
suggesting that it would be well to terminate an unpleasant matter
without unnecessary delay.
We had a case of disappointed love in the regiment last night. A
sergeant of Captain Mitchell's company was engaged to a girl of Athens
county. They were to be married upon his return from the war, and until
within a month have been corresponding regularly. Suddenly and without
explanation she ceased to write, why he could not imagine. He never,
however, doubted that she would be faithful to him. His anxiety to hear
from home increased, until finally he learned from her brother, a
soldier of the _Eighteenth Ohio_, that she was married. Strong, healthy,
good-looking fellow that he was, this intelligence prostrated him
completely, and made him crazy as a loon. He imagined that he was in
hell, thought Dr. Seyes the devil, and so violent did he become that
they had to bind him.
This morning he is more calm, but still deranged. He thought the straws
in his bunk were thorns, and would pluck at them with his fingers and
exclaim: "My God, ain't they sharp?" Captain Mitchell called, and the
boys said: "Sergeant, don't you know him?" "Yes," he replied, "he is one
of the devils." The Captain said: "Sergeant, don't you know where you
are?" "Of course I do; I'm in hell." When they were binding him he said:
"That's right; heap on the coals; put me in the hottest place." While
Dr. Seyes was preparing something to quiet him--laudanum, perhaps--he
said: "Bring on your poison; I'll take it."
The boys, while living roughly, exposed to hardships and dangers, think
more of their sweethearts than ever before, and are constantly
recurring, in their talk, to the comfortable homes and pleasant scenes
from which they are for the present separated.
FEBRUARY, 1862.
1. The Colonel sent in his resignation this morning. It will go to
Department head-quarters to-morrow.
Saw the new moon over my right shoulder this evening, which I accept as
an omen of good luck. Let it come. It will suit me just as well now as
at any time. If deceived, I shall never more have faith in the moon; and
as for the man in the moon, I shall call him a cheat to his face.
2. The devil is to pay in the regiment. The Colonel is doing his utmost
to create a disturbance. His friends are busy among the privates. At
noon an effort was made to get up a demonstration on the color line in
his behalf. Now a petition is being circulated among the privates
requesting Major Keifer and me to resign.
The night is as dark as pitch. A few minutes ago a shout went up for the
Colonel, and was swelled from point to point along the line of company
tents, until now possibly five hundred voices have joined in the yell.
The Colonel's friends tell the boys that if he were to remain he would
obtain leave for the regiment to go back to Camp Dennison to recruit;
that he was about to obtain rifles and Zouave uniforms for them, and
that there is a conspiracy among the officers to crush him.
3. Petitions from four companies, embracing two hundred and twenty-five
names, have been presented, requesting the Major and Lieutenant-Colonel
to resign.
4. We closed up the day with a dress parade, the Colonel in command. The
camp is more boisterous than usual. No more petitions have been
presented.
The Major received a package from home to-night containing, among other
articles, a pair of slippers, which, greatly to my advantage, were too
small for him. They were turned over to me, and it happens that no
little thing could have been more acceptable.
The bright moonlight of to-night enlivens our spirits somewhat, and
fills us with new courage. The days have been dark and gloomy, and the
nights still more so, for many days and nights past.
From the band of the Tenth Ohio, half a mile away, come strains mellow
and sweet. The air is full of moonlight and music. The boys are in a
happier mood, and a round, full voice comes to us from the tents with
the words of an old Scotch song:
"March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale!
Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskale and Liddlesdale!
All the blue bonnets are over the border.
Many a banner spread flutters above your head,
Many a crest that is famous in story;
Mount and make ready, then, sons of the mountain glen!
Fight for the King and the old Scottish border!"
5. The Major and Mr. Furay are engaged in a tremendous dispute. Furay is
positive he can not be mistaken, and the Major laughs him to scorn. When
these gentlemen lock horns in dead earnest the clatter of words becomes
terrible, and the combat ends only when both fall on their cots
exhausted.
6. The Colonel's resignation has been accepted. He delivered his
valedictory to the regiment this evening. Subsequently he passed through
the company quarters, shaking hands with the boys and bidding them
farewell. Still later he made a speech, in which he called God to
witness that he was a loyal man, and promised to pray for us all. The
regiment is disorderly, if not mutinous even. The best thing he can do
for it and himself is to get out.
8. The Colonel has bidden us a final adieu. His most devoted adherents
escorted him to the depot, and returned miserably drunk.
One of the color guards, an honest, sensible, good-looking boy, has
written me a letter of encouragement. I trust that soon all will feel as
kindly toward me as he.
10. We left Bacon creek at noon. There were ten thousand men in advance
of us, with immense baggage trains. The roads bad, and our march slow,
tedious, and disagreeable. Many of the officers imbibed freely, and the
senior surgeon, an educated gentleman, and very popular with the boys,
became gloriously elevated. He kept his eye pealed for secesh, and
before reaching Munfordsville found a citizen twice as big as himself in
possession of a double-barreled shot-gun. Taking it for granted that he
was an enemy, the Doctor drew a revolver and bade him surrender
unconditionally. The boys said the Doctor was as tight as a little bull.
What phase of inebriety this remark indicated I am unable to say; but
certain it is that he did not for a moment lose sight of his gigantic
prisoner, nor give him the slightest opportunity to escape. He was quite
triumphant in his bearing; directed the movements of the captive in a
loud and imperious tone, and favored him with much patriotic advice.
A wagon with six unbroken mules attached is an uncertain conveyance. If
the mules are desired to stop suddenly, they are certain not to do so,
and if commanded to start suddenly, they are just as sure not to obey.
If, after an immense amount of whipping and many fervent asseverations
on the part of the driver that all mules should be in Tophet, they
conclude to start at all, they go as if determined to reach the place
indicated without unnecessary delay. If a mud-hole, ditch, tree, or any
other obstacle lies in the way, and the driver cries whoa, the mules
redouble their speed, and rush forward as if they did not in the
slightest degree consider themselves responsible either for the driver's
neck or the traps with which the wagon is laden.
It was about eight o'clock in the evening when we crossed the bridge
over Green river. The moon had around it a halo, in which appeared very
distinctly all the colors of the National flag--red, white, and
blue--and the boys said it was a good omen; that they were Union people
up there, and had hung out the Stars and Stripes.
12. To-morrow we start for Bowling Green, our division in the lead.
Before night we shall overtake the rebels, and before the next evening
will doubtless fight a battle.
13. Long before sunrise the whole division was astir, and at seven
o'clock moved forward, our brigade in the center. Far as the eye could
reach, both in front and rear, the road was crowded with men. A score of
bands filled the air with martial strains, while the morning sun
brightened the muskets, and made the flags look more cheerful and
brilliant. The day was warm and pleasant. The country before us was, in
a military sense, unexplored, and every ear was open to catch the sound
of the first gun. The conviction that a battle was imminent kept the men
steady and prevented straggling. We passed many fine houses, and
extensive, well improved farms. But few white people were seen. The
negroes appeared to have entire possession.
Six miles from Green river a young and very pretty girl stood in the
doorway of a handsome farm-house and waved the flag of the Union. Cheer
after cheer arose along the line; officers saluted, soldiers waved their
hats, and the bands played "Yankee Doodle" and "Dixie." That loyal girl
captured a thousand hearts, and I trust some gallant soldier who shall
win honorable scars in battle may return in good time to crown her his
Queen of Love and Beauty.
From this on for fifteen miles we found neither springs nor streams.
The country is cavernous, and the only water is that of the ponds. In
all of these we discovered dead and decaying horses, mules, and dogs.
The rebels in this way had sought to deprive us of water; but while
their action in this regard occasioned a vast deal of profanity among
the boys, it did not in the least retard the column. We were, however,
delayed somewhat by the felled trees with which they had obstructed
miles of the road. At sunset we halted and pitched our tents in a large
field, near what is known as Bell's Tavern, on the Louisville and
Nashville Railroad. We had marched eighteen miles.
The water used in the preparation of the evening meal was that of the
ponds. The thought of the rotting dogs, horses, and mules, could not be
banished, and when the Major sipped his coffee in a doubtful way and
remarked that it tasted soupy, my stomach quivered on the turning point,
and, hungry as I was, the supper gave me no further enjoyment.
14. Resumed the march at daylight. Snow fell last night. The day was
exceedingly cold, and the wind pierced through us like needles of ice. I
think I never experienced so sudden and extreme a change in the weather.
It was too cold to ride, and I dismounted and walked twelve miles. We
were certain of a fight, and so pushed on with rapid pace. A regiment of
cavalry and Loomis' battery were in advance. When within ten miles of
Bowling Green the guns opened in our front. Leaving the regiment in
charge of the Major, I rode ahead rapidly as I could, and reached the
river bank opposite Bowling Green in time to see a detachment of rebel
cavalry fire the buildings which contained their army stores. The town
was ablaze in twenty different places. They had destroyed the bridge
over Barren river in the morning, and now, having finished the work of
destruction, went galloping over the hills. When the regiment arrived,
it was quartered in a camp but recently evacuated by the enemy. The
night was bitter cold; but the boys soon had a hundred fires blazing,
and made themselves very comfortable.
15. This morning we were called out at daylight to cross the river and
take possession of the town; a sorrier, hungrier lot of fellows never
rolled out of warm blankets into the icy wind. It was impossible for
many of them to get their wet and frozen shoes on, but we hurried down
to the river, and were there halted until it was ascertained that our
presence on the opposite side was not required, when we went back to our
old quarters.
16. To-day we crossed the Big Barren, and are now in Bowling Green.
Turchin's brigade preceded us, and has gutted many houses. The rebels
burned a million dollars worth of stores, but left enough pork, salt
beef, and other necessaries to supply our division for a month; in fact
the cigar I am smoking, the paper on which I write, the ink and pen,
were all captured.
General Beauregard left the day before our arrival. It is said he was
for days reported to be lying in General Hardee's quarters, dangerously
ill, and that under cover of this report he left town dressed in
citizen's clothes and visited our camps on Green River.
18. The weather is turning warm again, the men are quartered in houses.
I room at the hotel. This sort of life, however pleasant it may be, has
a demoralizing effect upon the soldier.
19. Spent the forenoon at the river assisting somewhat in getting our
transportation over. It is a rainy day, and I got wet to the skin and
thoroughly chilled. After dinner I went to bed while William, my
servant, put a few necessary stitches in my apparel, and dried my
underclothing and boots. I am badly off for clothing; my coat is out at
the elbows, and my pantaloons are in a revolutionary condition, the seat
having seceded.
The Cincinnati Gazette of the 14th instant reports that I have been
promoted. Thanks.
20. We learn from a reliable source that Nashville has been evacuated.
The enemy is said to be concentrating at Murfreesboro, twenty or thirty
miles beyond.
The river has risen fifteen feet, and many of our teams are still on the
other side. The water swelled so rapidly that two teams of six mules
each, parked on the river bank last night so as to be in readiness to
cross on the ferry this morning, were swept away.
Captain Mitchell returned this evening from a trip North. We are glad to
have him back again.
21. Hear that Fort Donelson has been taken after a terrible fight, and
ten thousand ears are eager to hear more about the engagement. No teams
crossed the river to-day; we are flood bound.
There was an immense number of deaths in the rebel army while it
encamped here. It is said three thousand Southern soldiers are buried in
the vicinity of the town. They could not stand the rigorous Northern
climate. A Mississippi regiment reported but thirteen men for duty.
22. Moved at seven in the morning toward Nashville without wagons, tents
or camp equipage. Marched twenty miles in the rain and were drenched
completely. The boys found some sort of shelter during the night in
tobacco houses, barns, and straw piles.
23. The day pleasant and sunshiny. The feet of the men badly blistered,
and the regiment limps along in wretched style; made fifteen miles.
24. Routed out at daylight and ordered to make Nashville, a distance of
thirty-two miles. Many of the boys have no shoes, and the feet of many
are still very sore. The journey seems long, but we are at the head of
the column, and that stimulates us somewhat. Have sent my horse to the
rear to help along the very lame, and am making the march on foot.
The martial band of the regiment is doing its utmost to keep the boys in
good spirits; the base drum sounds like distant thunder, and the wind of
Hughes, the fifer, is inexhaustible; he can blow five miles at a
stretch. The members of the band are in good pluck, and when not
playing, either sing, tell stories, or indulge in reminiscences of a
personal character. Russia has been badgering William Heney, a drummer.
He says that while at Elkwater Heney sparked one of Esquire Stalnaker's
daughters, and that the lady's little sister going into the room quite
suddenly one evening called back to the father, "Dad, dad, William Heney
has got his arm around Susan Jane!" Heney affirms that the story is
untrue. Lochey favors us with a song, which is known as the warble.
"Thou, thou reignest in this bosom,
There, there hast thou thy throne;
Thou, thou knowest that I love thee;
Am I not fondly thine own?
Ya--ya--ya--ya.
Am I not fondly thine own?
CHORUS.
Das unda claus ish mein,
Das unda claus ish mein,
Cants do nic mock un do.
On the banks of the Ohio river,
In a cot lives my Rosa so fair;
She is called Jim Johnson's darky,
And has nice curly black hair.
Tre alo, tre alo, tre ola, ti.
O come with me to the dear little spot,
And I'll show you the place I was born,
In a little log hut by a clear running brook,
Where blossom the wild plum and thorn.
Tre ola, tre ola, treo la ti.
Mein fadter, mein modter, mein sister, mein frau,
Undt swi glass of beer for meinself,
Undt dey call mein wife one blacksmit shop;
Such dings I never did see in my life.
Tre ola, tre ola, tre ola ti."
25. General Nelson's command came up the Cumberland by boat and entered
Nashville ahead of us. The city, however, had surrendered to our
division before Nelson arrived. We failed simply in being the first
troops to occupy it, and this resulted from detention at the
river-crossing.
27. Crossed the Cumberland and moved through Nashville; the regiment
behaved handsomely, and was followed by a great crowd of colored people,
who appeared to be delighted with the music. General Mitchell
complimented us on our good behavior and appearance.
28. Captain Wilson, Fourth Ohio Cavalry, was shot dead while on picket.
One of his sergeants had eight balls put through him, but still lives.
MARCH, 1862.
1. Our brigade, in command of General Dumont, started for Lavergne, a
village eleven miles out on the Murfreesboro road, to look after a
regiment of cavalry said to be in occupation of the place. Arrived there
a little before sunset, but found the enemy had disappeared.
The troops obtained whisky in the village, and many of the soldiers
became noisy and disorderly.
A little after nightfall the compliments of a Mrs. Harris were presented
to me, with request that I would be kind enough to call. The handsome
little white cottage where she lived was near our bivouac. It was the
best house in the village; and, as I ascertained afterward, very
tastefully if not elegantly furnished. She was a woman of perhaps forty.
Her husband and daughter were absent; the former, I think, in the
Confederate service. She had only a servant with her, and was
considerably frightened and greatly incensed at the conduct of some
soldiers, of she knew not what regiment, who had persisted in coming
into her house and treating her rudely. In short, she desired
protection. She had a lively tongue in her head, and her request for a
guard was, I thought, not preferred in the gentlest and most amiable
way. Her comments on our Northern soldiers were certainly not
complimentary to them. She said she had supposed hitherto that soldiers
were gentlemen. I confessed that they ought to be at least. She said,
rather emphatically, that Southern soldiers _were_ gentlemen. I replied
that I did not doubt at all the correctness of her statement; but,
unfortunately, the branch of the Northern army to which I had the honor
to belong had not been able to get near enough to them to obtain any
personal knowledge on the subject.
The upshot of the five minutes' interview was a promise to send a
soldier to protect Mrs. Harris' property and person during the night.
Returning to the regiment I sent for Sergeant Woolbaugh. He is one of
the handsomest men in the regiment; a printer by trade, an excellent
conversationalist, a man of extensive reading, and of thorough
information respecting current affairs. I said: "Sergeant, I desire you
to brighten up your musket, and clothes if need be, go over to the
little white cottage on the right and stand guard." "All right, sir."
As he was leaving I called to him: "If the lady of the house shows any
inclination to talk with you, encourage and gratify her to the top of
her bent. I want her to know what sort of men our Northern soldiers
are."