our army has been whipped. We start together to find Negley. We have had
nothing to eat since early morning, and so, passing a corn-field, we
stop for a moment to fill our pockets with corn; then, proceeding on our
way, we pass through an unused field, grown up with brush, and here meet
a man coming toward us on horseback. I said to him, "Are those our
troops?" pointing in the direction of the line of fires. He answered,
"Yes; our troops are on the road and just beyond it." Pretty soon we
emerged from the brushy woods and entered an open field; just before us
was a long line of fires, and soldiers busily engaged preparing supper.
We had approached to within two hundred feet of them, and could hear the
soldiers talk and laugh, as soldiers will, over the incidents of the
day, when we discerned that we were riding straight into the enemy's
line. Instantly wheeling our horses, we drove the spurs into them and
lay down on their backs. We had been discovered, and a dozen or more
shots were sent after us; but we escaped unharmed. The man we met in the
unused field had mistaken us for Confederate officers. Two or three
shots were fired at us as we approached our own line, but the darkness
saved us.
Near eight o'clock in the evening I ascertained, from General Wood, that
the army had been ordered to fall back to Rossville, and I started at
once to inform Colonel Stoughton and others on the ridge; but I found
that they had been apprised of the movement, and were then on the road
to the rear.
The march to Rossville was a melancholy one. All along the road, for
miles, wounded men were lying. They had crawled or hobbled slowly away
from the fury of the battle, become exhausted, and lay down by the
roadside to die. Some were calling the names and numbers of their
regiments, but many had become too weak to do this; by midnight the
column had passed by. What must have been their agony, mental and
physical, as they lay in the dreary woods, sensible that there was no
one to comfort or to care for them, and that in a few hours more their
career on earth would be ended.
At a little brook, which crossed the road, Wilson and I stopped to
water our horses. The remains of a fire, which some soldiers had
kindled, were raked together, and laying a couple of ears of corn on the
coals for our own use, we gave the remainder of what we had in our
pockets to the poor beasts; they, also, had fasted since early morning.
How many terrible scenes of the day's battle recur to us as we ride on
in the darkness. We see again the soldier whose bowels were protruding,
and hear him cry, "Jesus, have mercy on my soul!" What multitudes of
thought were then crowding into the narrow half hour which he had yet to
live--what regrets, what hopes, what fears! The sky was darkening, earth
fading; wealth, power, fame, the prizes most esteemed of men, were as
nothing. His only hope lay in the Saviour of whom his mother had taught
him. I doubt not his earnest, agonizing prayer was heard. Nay, to doubt
would be to question the mercy of God!
A Confederate boy, who should have been at home with his mother, and
whose leg had been fearfully torn by a minnie ball, hailed me as I was
galloping by early in the day. He was bleeding to death, and crying
bitterly. I gave him my handkerchief, and shouted back to him, as I
hurried on, "Bind up the leg tight!"
The adjutant of the rebel General Adams called to me as I passed him. He
wanted help, but I could not help him--could not even help our own poor
boys who lay bleeding near him.
Sammy Snyder lay on the field wounded; as I handed him my canteen he
said, "General, I did my duty." "I know that, Sammy; I never doubted
that you would do your duty." The most painful recollection to one who
has gone through a battle, is that of the friends lying wounded and
dying and who needed help so much when you were utterly powerless to aid
them.
Between ten and eleven o'clock, at night, I reached Rossville, and found
one of my regiments, the Forty-second Indiana, on picket one mile south
of that place, and the other regiments encamped near the town. My men
were surprised and rejoiced to see me. It had been currently reported
that I was killed. One fellow claimed to know the exact spot on my body
where the ball hit me; while another, not willing to be outdone, had
given a minute description of the locality where I fell. General Negley
rendered me good service by giving me something to eat and drink, for I
was hungry as a wolf.
At this hour of the night (eleven to twelve o'clock) the army is simply
a mob. There appears to be neither organization nor discipline. The
various commands are mixed up in what seems to be inextricable
confusion. Were a division of the enemy to pounce down upon us between
this and morning, I fear the Army of the Cumberland would be blotted
out.
21. Early this morning the army was again got into order. Officers and
soldiers found their regiments, regiments their brigades, and brigades
their divisions. My brigade was posted on a high ridge, east of
Rossville and near it. About ten o'clock A. M. it was attacked by a
brigade of mounted infantry, a part of Forrest's command, under Colonel
Dibble. After a sharp fight of half an hour, in which the Fifteenth
Kentucky, Colonel Taylor, and the Forty-second Indiana,
Lieutenant-Colonel McIntyre, were principally engaged, the enemy was
repulsed, and retired leaving his dead and a portion of his wounded on
the field. Of his dead, one officer and eight men were left within a few
rods of our line. One little boy, so badly wounded they could not carry
him off, said, with tears and sobs, "They have run off and left me in
the woods to die." I directed the boys to carry him into our lines and
care for him.
At midnight, the Fifteenth Kentucky was deployed on the skirmish line;
the other regiments of the brigade withdrawn, and started on the way to
Chattanooga. A little later the Fifteenth Kentucky quietly retired and
proceeded to the same place.
22. We are at Chattanooga.
With the exception of a cold, great exhaustion, and extreme hoarseness,
occasioned by much hallooing, I am in good condition. The rebels have
followed us and are taking position in our front.
24. At midnight the enemy attempted to drive in our pickets, and an
engagement ensued, which lasted an hour or more, and was quite brisk.
26. This morning another furious assault was made on our picket line;
but, after a short time, the rebels retired and permitted us to remain
quiet for the remainder of the day.
Their pickets are plainly seen from our lines, and their signal flags
are discernable on Mission ridge. Occasionally we see their columns
moving. Our army is busily engaged fortifying.
27. (Sunday.) Had a good night's rest, and am feeling very well. The day
is a quiet one.
OCTOBER, 1863.
1. Have been trying to persuade myself that I am unwell enough to ask
for a leave, but it will not work. The moment after I come to the
conclusion that I am really sick, and can not stand it longer, I begin
to feel better. The very thought of getting home, and seeing wife and
children, cures me at once.
3. The two armies are lying face to face. The Federal and Confederate
sentinels walk their beats in sight of each other. The quarters of the
rebel generals may be seen from our camps with the naked eye. The tents
of their troops dot the hillsides. To-night we see their signal lights
off to the right on the summit of Lookout mountain, and off to the left
on the knobs of Mission ridge. Their long lines of camp fires almost
encompass us. But the camp fires of the Army of the Cumberland are
burning also. Bruised and torn by a two days' unequal contest, its flags
are still up, and its men still unwhipped. It has taken its position
here, and here, by God's help, it will remain.
Colonel Hobart was captured at Chickamauga, and a fear is entertained
that he may have been wounded.
4. This is a pleasant October morning, rather windy and cool, but not at
all uncomfortable. The bands are mingling with the autumn breezes such
martial airs as are common in camps, with now and then a sentimental
strain, which awakens recollections of other days, when we were
younger--thought more of sweethearts than of war, when, in fact, we did
not think of war at all except as something of the past.
Sitting at my tent door, with a field glass, I can see away off to the
right, on the highest peak of Lookout mountain, a man waving a red flag
to and fro. He is a rebel officer, signaling to the Confederate generals
what he observes of importance in the valley. From his position he can
look down into our camp, see every rifle pit, and almost count the
pieces of artillery in our fortifications.
Captain Johnson, of General Negley's staff, has just been in, and tells
me the pickets of the two armies are growing quite intimate, sitting
about on logs together, talking over the great battle, and exchanging
views as to the results of a future engagement.
General Negley called a few minutes ago and invited me to dine with him
at five o'clock. The General looks demoralized, and, I think, regrets
somewhat the part he took, or rather the part he failed to take, in the
battle of Chickamauga. Remarks are made in reference to his conduct on
that occasion which are other than complimentary. The General doubtless
did what he thought was best, and probably had orders which will justify
his action. After a battle there is always more or less bad feeling,
regiments, brigades, and corps claiming that other regiments, brigades,
and corps failed to do their whole duty, and should therefore be held
responsible for this or that misfortune.
There was a rumor, for some days before the battle of Chickamauga, that
Burnside was on the way to join us, and we shouted Burnside to the boys,
on the day of the battle, until we became hoarse. Did the line stagger
and show a disposition to retire: "Stand up, boys, reinforcements are
coming; Burnside is near." Once, when Palmer's division was falling back
through a corn-field, our line was hotly pressed. Pointing to Palmer's
columns, which were coming from the left toward the right, the officers
shouted, "Give it to 'em, boys, Burnside is here," and the boys went in
with renewed confidence. But, alas, at nightfall Burnside had played
out, and the hearts of our brave fellows went down with the sun.
Burnside is now regarded as a myth, a fictitious warrior, who is said to
be coming to the rescue of men sorely pressed, but who never comes. When
an improbable story is told to the boys, now, they express their
unbelief by the simple word "Burnside," sometimes adding, "O yes, we
know him."
5. The enemy opened on us, at 11 A. M., from batteries located on the
point of Lookout mountain, and continued to favor us with cast-iron in
the shape of shell and solid shot until sunset. He did little damage,
however, three men only were wounded, and these but slightly. A shell
entered the door of a dog tent, near which two soldiers of the
Eighteenth Ohio were standing, and buried itself in the ground, when
one of the soldiers turned very coolly to the other and said, "There,
you d--d fool, you see what you get by leaving your door open."
6. The enemy unusually silent.
7. Visited the picket line this afternoon. A rebel line officer came to
within a few rods of our picket station, to exchange papers, and stood
and chatted for some time with the Federal officer. There appears to be
a perfect understanding that neither party shall fire unless an advance
is made in force.
NOVEMBER, 1863.
11. My new brigade consists of the following regiments:
One Hundred and Thirteenth Ohio Infantry, Colonel John G. Mitchell.
One Hundred and Twenty-first Ohio Infantry, Colonel H. B. Banning.
One Hundred and Eighth Ohio Infantry, Lieutenant-Colonel Piepho.
Ninety-eighth Ohio Infantry, Major Shane.
Third Ohio Infantry, Captain Leroy S. Bell.
Seventy-eighth Illinois Infantry, Colonel Van Vleck.
Thirty-fourth Illinois Infantry, Colonel Van Tassell.
There has been much suffering among the men. They have for weeks been
reduced to quarter rations, and at times so eager for food that the
commissary store-rooms would be thronged, and the few crumbs which fell
from broken boxes of hard-bread carefully gathered up and eaten. Men
have followed the forage wagons and picked up the grains of corn which
fell from them, and in some instances they have picked up the grains of
corn from the mud where mules have been fed. The suffering among the
animals has been intense. Hundreds of mules and horses have died of
starvation. Now, however, that we have possession of the river, the men
are fully supplied, but the poor horses and mules are still suffering. A
day or two more will, I trust, enable us to provide well for them also.
Two steamboats are plying between this and Chattanooga, and one immense
wagon train is also busy. Supplies are coming forward with a reasonable
degree of rapidity. The men appear to be in good health and excellent
spirits.
12. We are encamped on Stringer's ridge, on the north side of the
Tennessee, immediately opposite Chattanooga. This morning Colonel
Mitchell and I rode to the picket line of the brigade. The line runs
along the river, opposite and to the north of the point of Lookout
mountain. At the time, a heavy fog rising from the water veiled somewhat
the gigantic proportions of Lookout point, or the nose of Lookout, as it
is sometimes designated. While standing on the bank, at the water's
edge, peering through the mist, to get a better view of two Confederate
soldiers, on the opposite shore, a heavy sound broke from the summit of
Lookout mountain, and a shell went whizzing over into Hooker's camps.
Pretty soon a battery opened on what is called Moccasin point, on the
north side of the river, and replied to Lookout. Later in the day
Moccasin and Lookout got into an angry discussion which lasted two
hours. These two batteries have a special spite at each other, and
almost every day thunder away in the most terrible manner. Lookout
throws his missiles too high and Moccasin too low, so that usually the
only loss sustained by either is in ammunition. Moccasin, however, makes
the biggest noise. The sound of his guns goes crashing and echoing along
the sides of Lookout in a way that must be particularly gratifying to
Moccasin's soul. I fear, however, that both these gigantic gentlemen are
deaf as adders, or they would not so delight in kicking up such a
hellebaloo.
This afternoon I rode over to Chattanooga. Called at the quarters of my
division commander, General Jeff. C. Davis, but found him absent;
stopped at Department Head-quarters and saw General Reynolds, chief of
staff; caught sight of Generals Hooker, Howard, and Gordon Granger. Soon
General Thomas entered the room and shook hands with me. On my way back
to camp I called on General Rousseau; had a long and pleasant
conversation with him. He goes to Nashville to-morrow to assume command
of the District of Tennessee. He does not like the way in which he has
been treated; thinks there is a disposition on the part of those in
authority to shelve him, and that his assignment to Nashville is for the
purpose of letting him down easily. Palmer, who has been assigned to the
command of the Fourteenth Corps, is Rousseau's junior in rank, and this
grinds him. He referred very kindly to the old Third Division, and said
it won him his stars. I told him I was exceedingly anxious to get home;
that it seemed almost impossible for me to remain longer. He said that
I must continue until they made me a major-general. I replied that I
neither expected nor desired promotion.
At the river I met Father Stanley, of the Eighteenth Ohio. He presides
over the swing ferry, in which he takes especial delight. A long rope,
fastened to a stake in the middle of the river, is attached to the boat,
and the current is made to swing it from one shore to the other.
14. My fleet-footed black horse is dead. Did the new moon, which I saw
so squarely over my left shoulder when riding him over Waldron's ridge,
augur this?
The rebel journals are expressing great dissatisfaction at Bragg's
failure to take Chattanooga, and insist upon his doing so without
further delay. On the other hand, the authorities at Washington are
probably urging Grant to move, fearing if he does not that Burnside will
be overwhelmed. Thus both generals must do something soon in order to
satisfy their respective masters. There will be a battle or a foot-race
within a week or two.
15. Have read Whitelaw Reid's statement of the causes of Rosecrans'
removal. He is, I presume, in the main correct. Investigation will show
that the army could have gotten into Chattanooga without a battle on the
Chickamauga. There would have been a battle here, doubtless, and defeat
would have resulted probably in our destruction; yet it seems reasonable
to suppose that, if able to hold Chattanooga after defeat, we would have
been able to do so before.
MISSION RIDGE.
20. Orders have been issued, and to-morrow a great battle will be
fought. May God be with our army and favor us with a substantial
victory! My brigade will move at daylight. It is now getting ready.
Order to move countermanded at midnight.
22. The day is delightful. Lookout and Moccasin are furious. The
Eleventh Corps (Howard's) is now crossing the pontoon bridge, just below
and before us, to take position for to-morrow's engagement. Sherman is
also moving up the river on the north side, with a view to getting at
the enemy's right flank. My brigade will be under arms at daylight, and
ready to move. Our division will operate with Sherman on the left.
Hitherto I have gone into battle almost without knowing it; now we are
about to bring on a terrible conflict, and have abundant time for
reflection. I can not affirm that the prospect has a tendency to elevate
one's spirits. There are men, doubtless, who enjoy having their legs
sawed off, their heads trepanned, and their ribs reset, but I am not one
of them. I am disposed to think of home and family--of the great
suffering which results from engagements between immense armies.
Somebody--Wellington, I guess--said there was nothing worse than a great
victory except a great defeat.
Rode with Colonel Mitchell four miles up the river to General Davis'
quarters; met there General Morgan, commanding First Brigade of our
division; Colonel Dan McCook, commanding Third Brigade, and Mr. Dana,
Assistant Secretary of War.
23. It is now half-past five o'clock in the morning. The moon has gone
down, and it is that darkest hour which is said to precede the dawn. My
troops have been up since three o'clock busily engaged making
preparation for the day's work. Judging from the almost continuous
whistling of the cars off beyond Mission Ridge, the rebels have an
intimation of the attack to be made, and are busy either bringing
reinforcements or preparing to evacuate.
Noon. There has been a hitch in affairs, and I am still in my tent at
the old place.
About 2 P. M. a division or more was sent out to reconnoiter the enemy's
front. The movement resulted in a sharp fight, which lasted until after
sunset. Both artillery and infantry were engaged. As night grew on we
could see the flash of the enemy's guns all along the crest of Mission
Ridge, and then hear the report, and the prolonged reverberations as the
sound went crashing among ridges, hills, and mountains. Rumor says that
our troops captured five hundred prisoners.
24. Moved to Caldwell's, four miles up the river. A pontoon bridge was
thrown across the stream; but there were many troops in advance of us,
and my brigade did not reach the south side until after one o'clock. Our
division was held in reserve; so we stacked arms and lay upon the grass
midway between the river and the foot of Mission Ridge, and listened to
the preliminary music of the guns as the National line was being
adjusted for to-morrow's battle.
25. During the day, as we listened to the roar of the conflict, I
thought I detected in the management what I had never discovered before
on the battle-field, a little common sense. Dash is handsome, genius
glorious; but modest, old-fashioned, practical, every-day sense is the
trump, after all, and the only thing one can securely rely upon for
permanent success in any line, either civil or military. This element
evidently dominated in this battle. The struggle along Mission Ridge
seemed more like a series of independent battles than one grand
conflict. There were few times during the day when the engagement
appeared to be heavy and continuous along the whole line. There
certainly was not an extended and unceasing roll, as at Chickamauga and
Stone river, but rather a succession of heavy blows. Now it would
thunder furiously on the extreme right; then the left would take up the
sledge, and finally the center would begin to pound; and so the National
giant appeared to skip from point to point along the ridge, striking
rapid and thundering blows here and there, as if seeking the weak place
in his antagonist's armor. The enemy, thoroughly bewildered, finally
became most fearful of Sherman, who was raising a perfect pandemonium on
his flank, and so strengthened his right at the expense of other
portions of his line, when Thomas struck him in the center, and he
abandoned the field. The loss must be comparatively small, but the
victory is all the more glorious for this very reason.
26. At one o'clock in the morning we crossed the Chickamauga in pursuit
of the retreating enemy. The First Brigade of our division having the
lead, I had nothing to do but follow it. At Chickamauga depot we came in
sight of the rebels, and formed line of battle to attack; but they
retired, leaving the warehouses containing their supplies in flames. At
3 P. M. my brigade was ordered to head the column, and we drove the
enemy's rear guard before us without meeting with any serious opposition
until nightfall, when, on arriving at Mrs. Sheppard's spring branch,
near Graysville, a brigade of Confederate troops, with a battery, under
command of Brigadier-General Manny, opened on us with considerable
violence. A sharp encounter ensued of about an hour's duration,
resulting in the defeat of the enemy and the wounding of the rebel
general. My brigade behaved well, did most of the fighting, and, owing
to the darkness, probably, sustained but little loss. When General Davis
came up I asked permission to make a detour through the woods to the
right, for the purpose of overtaking and cutting off the enemy's train;
but he thought it not advisable to attempt it.
DECEMBER, 1863.
I will not undertake to give a detailed account of our march to
Knoxville, for the relief of Burnside, and the return to Chattanooga. We
were gone three weeks, and during that time had no change of clothing,
and were compelled to obtain our food from the corn-cribs, hen-roosts,
sheep-pens, and smoke-houses on the way. The incidents of this trip,
through the valleys of East Tennessee, where the waters of the Hiawasse,
and the Chetowa, and the Ocoee, and the Estonola ripple through
corn-fields and meadows, and beneath shadows of evergreen ridges, will
be laid aside for a more convenient season. I append simply a letter of
General Sherman:
"HEAD-QUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE TENNESSEE,}
"CHATTANOOGA, _December 18, 1863_. }
"GENERAL JEFF. C. DAVIS, _Chattanooga_.
"DEAR GENERAL--In our recent short but most useful
campaign it was my good fortune to have attached
to me the corps of General Howard, and the
division commanded by yourself. I now desire to
thank you personally and officially for the
handsome manner in which you and your command have
borne themselves throughout. You led in the
pursuit of Bragg's army on the route designated
for my command, and I admired the skill with which
you handled the division at Chickamauga, and more
especially in the short and sharp encounter, at
nightfall, near Graysville.
"When General Grant called on us, unexpectedly and
without due preparation, to march to Knoxville for
the relief of General Burnside, you and your
officers devoted yourselves to the work like
soldiers and patriots, marching through cold and
mud without a murmur, trusting to accidents for
shelter and subsistence.
"During the whole march, whenever I encountered
your command, I found all the officers at their
proper places and the men in admirable order. This
is the true test, and I pronounce your division
one of the best ordered in the service. I wish you
all honor and success in your career, and shall
deem myself most fortunate if the incidents of war
bring us together again.