On the morning of the 12th, the regiment again moved out in pursuit of
the enemy. Passing through Danville on the 13th, and through Lancaster
on the 14th, it arrived in the neighborhood of Crab Orchard, on the
evening of the 15th, and went into camp on the bank of Dix River, Ky.,
two miles from Crab Orchard, on the morning of the 16th, or rather the
army went into bivouac, for the tents and camp equipage were yet in
Louisville. An order, however, was immediately sent back to have them
brought up. The distance marched since leaving Louisville, is one
hundred and thirty miles. And here and thus ends Don Carlos Buell's
campaign in Kentucky. A campaign which should have resulted in the
capture or annihilation of the rebel hordes, but which will hereafter
be regarded as one of the most miserable failures in the military
history of the country. True, the State of Kentucky is now rid of the
insolent, thieving foe, but this was not the task assigned the
commander of the army of the Ohio. He was expected to utterly destroy
them, and he had the men and the opportunities to do so; but instead,
he permitted the enemy to fall upon, in force, and almost destroy a
wing of his army, when fifty thousand men were in easy supporting
distance; and then, as if to complete his work of imbecility or
treachery, allowed them to escape, when their retreat might still have
been cut off.
It is said that the army in Flanders swore terribly, and there is no
doubt of that fact. Most armies do. But if any one had been fond of
profanity, and wished to hear vigorous denunciations, in unmistakable
Saxon, they should have heard the army of the Ohio, on the merits of
the arch traitor, Don Carlos Buell.
The third great error of the war was now most clearly
demonstrated--that of continuing Don Carlos in command, after his
arrival at Louisville, Ky.
Here is an extract from a soldier's letter, written to his boy at home,
after losing his summer's harvest by the excessive high waters of that
season, showing in what the thoughts of the soldier frequently consist
while idle in camp:
"DANVILLE, KY., October 22, 1862.
"DEAR SON:--For the first time since the 28th of September, I am
sitting in a tent, writing. We came here yesterday, and are
indebted to the report that some rebel cavalry are following us
up pretty closely, for the purpose of picking up stragglers or
capturing some of our train, for our leisure day. Our army is
moving back to Lebanon, which is on the Louisville and Nashville
railroad, and our brigade is the rear guard.
"We left Crab Orchard, Monday morning, and got this far, when we
were halted, and two regiments, the Twenty-Second Indiana and
Seventy-Fourth Illinois, were sent back to attend to the rebels. We
will, perhaps, only remain here until these regiments return, and
then move on.
"This is a beautiful day, and causes me to think of home. I would
delight, above all things, to be with you this pleasant afternoon.
I should like to look around with you, and see what you have left
after your year's hard work. I know it is not much, but perhaps
what you have is worth looking at. You have two or three nice
'shoats' in the pen, which you are feeding for your winter's meat.
They are doing finely--will make fine, tender, juicy ham, such as
we in the army are not accustomed to. Their spare-ribs will be most
delicious, and the sausage meat you can get from them will repay
you for the trouble of making it. Chickens you have, I see, in
abundance--ah! yes, they are very nice. One fried now and then is
not bad in a small family like yours, or even made into a pot-pie,
is not hard to take--decidedly better than a dose of rhubarb. I see
one there, now, that would do either for a fry or a stew--that one
with the plump breast and yellow legs. Yes, chickens are a great
help to a family, but an army has no use for chickens. The
individual soldier sometimes finds use for them, as the people
living along the line of march have learned to their sorrow.
"I see that you have a milch cow or two. Well, I reckon you make
that which some people call butter, from the milk of the cow.
Butter, if I remember rightly, is a yellow greasy substance which
people sometimes spread on bread or hot biscuit, which, as they
fancy, adds materially to their relish. I suppose it is quite
necessary to those who have learned to use it, judging from the
longing of the new recruits after it on leaving Louisville; but we
in the army have no use for such stuff, and consequently a cow
would be of no service to us, while alive, at any rate. If she had
been starved a few weeks, and then skinned, we, perhaps, could make
use of her bones for making soup, as we understand _that_. Ah,
ha, you have one horse left too. Well, that's better than some
folks I know of down here in Dixie. The less stock you have the
less feed it takes, and the more time you have to spare for
something else. And then there is another consolation about
it--your taxes will not be so great next year. And then also you
will not be called up o' nights to see if your horses haven't got
loose in the stable and gone to kicking each other in the dark. I
think it is a blessed thing to have nothing. Now, when we left
Bowling Green, Kentucky, on our march from Nashville to Louisville,
our wagons were all left behind, and all the knapsacks and trunks
left with them. Our young officers had lots of fine clothes, etc.,
in their trunks, and our soldiers had pants, coats, etc., in their
knapsacks, which were all left and consequently lost, and now they
are lamenting their heavy losses. _I_ had nothing of the sort.
The clothes on my back--two shirts and two or three pair of
socks--was all I had, and of course I brought them with me and lost
nothing; consequently didn't care a snap about the wagons, and now
one little handkerchief will hold all my worldly goods, and I am as
happy as--a fish on dry land. So I say, blessed be nothing."
On the morning of the 26th the brigade moved out for Lebanon; passing
through Lebanon, it took the direct road for Bowling Green, where it
arrived on the morning of the 4th of November. In the meantime General
Rosecranz, succeeding Buell in command, had arrived at Bowling Green,
and was personally inspecting and forwarding the different divisions on
towards Nashville as fast as they arrived.
General Jeff. C. Davis, having been released from arrest, for shooting
General Nelson, also arrived here and assumed command of his division.
Here, too, the Fifty-Ninth received an unlooked for acquisition, in the
shape of an Assistant Surgeon from Knoxville, Illinois. Charles Bunce
reported himself for duty as a commissioned Surgeon of the Fifty-Ninth
Regiment Illinois Volunteers, somewhat to the astonishment of the men,
as no intimation of his appointment had ever reached them. It would
naturally be supposed that the men of a regiment would be more deeply
interested in the selection of a proper person to look after the health
than any others, and in most regiments they have the selection of their
own Surgeon, but in the Fifty-Ninth it seems to have been taken for
granted that the men were mere automatons, only fit to be looked after
as a lot of mules should be in corral.
It is a universally admitted fact that many more men die in the army
from other causes, than those produced by the shot and shell of the
enemy. Some would fain believe that disease alone is chargeable with
this fatality, but it is not so. A large majority of the fatal cases in
the army are, _without a doubt_, produced by the malpractice of
ignorant young men, who, through the influence of some personal friend,
receive a commission as Surgeon. Very culpable is that man who
recommends to the position of Surgeon a man entirely unfitted for the
place, merely because he is a personal friend or relative. There are
many young men who are now tampering with the lives of the noble
soldier, whose qualifications are only such as they have acquired in
attendance behind the counter of some one-horse drug store, or such as
is obtained by taking care of some eminent doctor's horses. There is no
other position in the army having so great a weight of responsibility
attached as that of Surgeon, and there is no other position filled with
so little regard to qualification as this one. It is to be hoped that
more care may be bestowed by those in authority in ascertaining the
qualifications of those sent to preserve the health and lives of the
soldiers.
Leaving Bowling Green the regiment passes over the same road it had
traversed about a month before, and arrives at Edgefield on the evening
of the 7th of November, 1862. The only incident of note on the march
was the burning, by the "Louisville Legion," of two large residences,
from the windows of which they had been shot at while passing towards
Nashville on their former visit, and the capturing of eleven prisoners,
by our advanced skirmishers, on the morning of the 6th.
The distance from Crab Orchard to Nashville, via the route marched, is
one hundred and fifty-six miles.