Starts home on veteran furlough--Trouble at the table--Bluffs
the Captain--Suspected of being a rebel spy--Commissioned
officer serves him at the table--Kind attentions at
home--Silences an old maid--Returns to the front--Shot at
twenty-one times--The remedy--A Union lady--The dwarf
weaver--The weaver beheaded--Goes into Marietta as a
spy--Confederate side of the lines--Escape from the
rebs--General McPherson's death--Hard fighting.
Early in March, 1864, my regiment went home from Vicksburg on veteran
furlough, and I accompanied it. Every thing passed off pleasantly on our
homeward trip, save that, now and then, it became difficult for a man
like myself, without shoulder-straps, to get admitted to the table for
meals. We were embarked on board the steamer Continental. She had on
board, besides our own, a New York regiment, going home from New
Orleans. I was a stranger to them, and was frequently halted by them
when they were on guard. This I might have prevented by procuring an
order, or pass, entitling me to the full privilege of the boat; but I
chose to keep my real character disguised, except to such as personally
knew me.
On one occasion, after having imbibed rather freely at the bar--nothing
unusual for some soldiers on veteran furlough to do--I sat down to
dinner without having procured a ticket, and placed a five-dollar bill
by the side of my plate for the clerk of the boat to take his pay from.
The Captain's son came round for tickets, in place of the clerk, and,
seeing my bill lying there, and supposing that I was in too happy a
frame of mind to take notice of so slight a mistake, picked it up and
walked off.
That aroused my anger--or rather my liquor--and I called out, "Stop! you
d--d thieving son of a b--h! Bring back that money." Finding that he was
caught in the act, he came back and gave me the change. While he was
making the change, I gave him a regular cursing. The chaplain of the New
York regiment was sitting at the table opposite to me. The loud talking
brought crowds of officers and others to see what was up, and with them
the boy's father, who took me to task for such disrespect to his boat in
presence of the chaplain.
"Chaplain, h--l!" said I. "Do you think that I would sit here and see
your son steal my money without saying any thing? He deserves something
worse than curses. He ought to have his neck stretched. As for
chaplains, they are no better than other folks. Some will steal, or hire
soldiers to do it for them. We had a chaplain in our regiment, who said
to me once, 'Bunker, can't you bring me in a good horse?' 'Yes, I can
bring you in a good horse.' 'Well, I wish you would. I can't pay you the
full value of the horse, but I'll pay you for your trouble.' 'Oh, never
mind the trouble, chaplain,' said I; 'you preach the boys a good sermon
some Sunday morning, and _I'll steal you a horse_!'"
When I had finished my reply, the Captain disappeared in one direction
and the chaplain in another, in a midst of a roar of laughter from those
gathered around. I heard no more from the Captain about disgracing his
boat in the presence of chaplains.
At Memphis, we changed from the steamer Continental to a Memphis and
Cincinnati packet. General Breman took passage with us as far as Cairo,
Ill., and, being the senior officer in rank on board, was in command of
the troops. It is customary, when troops are on board transports, to
have a guard and an officer of the day, whose duty it is to preserve
order, subject to the instructions of the commanding officer.
The next morning after we left Memphis, Captain Ayres, of the 20th Ohio
Infantry, was the officer of the day. On reporting to General Breman for
instructions, he was informed that there was a "suspicious character" on
board. He pointed me out to the Captain, and told him that I came on
board at Memphis, and that, in all probability, I was either a rebel spy
or an incendiary, watching an opportunity to burn up the boat. He
instructed the Captain to watch me, and if my actions confirmed his
suspicions, to arrest me and place me under guard. The Captain was
personally acquainted with me, but kept the fact to himself. As soon as
an opportunity offered, the Captain told me what the General had said;
so I resolved to see how he would act when he found out who I was.
Walking back to the after-cabin, I found General Force and General
Breman engaged in reading. Said I to the latter, saluting him, "General
Breman, you don't know me, do you?"
"Not that I know of."
"You don't remember of having me arrested in Tennessee as a rebel spy? I
am a 'suspicious character;' you had better watch me."
"That's Mr. Ruggles, General," said General Force; "he's a useful man.
He's a valuable scout."
"Ah!" said Breman, remembering his instructions to the officer of the
day, and coloring slightly, "I didn't know _what_ to make of you. _I did
suspect your loyalty._"
"I'm _loyal_ enough, but I am among the rebs _so much_ that I sometimes
_act_ like one." The officer of the day was saved the necessity of
placing me under arrest.
Before reaching Cincinnati, the boat supplies became so nearly exhausted
that it became necessary to issue an order forbidding any but
commissioned officers and their _attaches_ being furnished with meals by
the boat. There were so many to eat that it generally required the table
to be set three times before all would be supplied. The first time the
table was set after the order was issued, I called at the clerk's office
to buy a ticket for dinner for myself and a friend, and was refused on
the plea that the order forbid furnishing meals to _enlisted men_. My
friend and I then seated ourselves at the table, but were ordered away
by the steward. On our refusing to go, he reported us to the clerk, who
came and ordered us away. I told him that we were _entitled_ to get our
meals there, and if he couldn't furnish us a waiter, I'd get a
commissioned officer to wait on us. I then ordered a waiter to serve us,
but the clerk countermanded it. Just then Captain Bostwick, of the 20th
Ohio Infantry, was passing by us.
"Here, Captain," said I; "these men have got above their business. They
won't wait on us because we ha'n't got on shoulder-straps. Can't you
wait on a poor soldier?"
"Certainly, gentlemen; what will you have, roast beef or boiled ham?"
"Some of the beef, if you please, Captain."
Away went the Captain with our plates. General Force, having heard our
words, now made his appearance. "General," said I, "this man and I fare
rather slim; they won't give us any thing to eat on this boat unless we
have a man with shoulder-straps to wait upon us."
"Clerk," said the General, "let these men have what they want to eat.
That man there (pointing to my friend) is a commissioned officer, and
the other man is a great deal more deserving of his meals than I am."
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the clerk. "Waiter, serve these
men."
"Never mind the waiter, clerk. We don't want any of your _trash_ around
us; we have _commissioned officers to serve us_." The Captain served us
till we had finished our meal, very much to the amusement of those
looking on.
On my arrival in Ohio, I found that my reputation as a scout and spy had
preceded me, and where-ever I went I could scarcely make my appearance
on the street without having a crowd gather around me, eager to hear my
experience in Dixie. I was pressed with invitations to call upon people
whom I had never seen or heard of before. Circumstances, beyond my
control, rendered my position an embarrassing one. We were to have been
paid our bounty, back pay, and veteran bounty at Columbus, O., but, by
the carelessness of the commissary of musters that mustered me, my
veteran papers were lost, so that I drew no pay, and, consequently, my
clothes were ragged and my pocket empty. Embarrassing as this was to me,
it seemed to have very little influence with others, and ladies in silk
would listen with intense interest to the narratives of the ragged
soldier.
I am proud that I live in a country where patriotism, valor, and
services rendered to the Government, are more highly appreciated than
dress or a lavish expenditure of money. My war-worn clothes did not
diminish the number of my friends and admirers, otherwise my veteran
visit would have been an unhappy one.
In the course of my visiting, I spent an evening at a farm-house, where
was boarding the school-mistress of the district school. She was a lady
aged forty-two years--my age exactly--and would usually be called an
"old maid." Her tongue was as flexible as mine; indeed, I found it hard
to get the start of her. At first, we were shy of each other; she was
afraid of soiling her silk, and I was afraid to show my rags. Our seats
were at opposite sides of the room. Gradually, however, our interest in
each other's stories increased, and our distance apart as gradually
diminished, until, finally, we were sitting side by side, and became the
center of attraction for the evening by our narratives, alternately
told--hers of school-teaching experience and mine of army experience. At
last she said: "Mr. Ruggles, I should like to know how you learned to
practice the art of deception, as you did, among the Southern people.
They are not all fools, are they?"
"No, ma'am, they are not all fools."
"Really, then, I should like to know how you learned it."
"I'll tell you, if you will permit me to do so."
"I _should_ like to know."
"I learned it in paying my respects to _old maids_."
"_There! there! that will do!_" and away she went to the opposite side
of the room, much to the amusement of the company present. For the
remainder of the evening I had to keep at a respectable distance from
her.
Our veteran furloughs having expired, we reported to General Leggett, at
Cairo, Illinois, who sent me to Clifton, Tennessee, to report to General
M. F. Force for duty. He sent me to Pulaski, a distance of sixty-two
miles, with dispatches. A squad of twenty men, under command of a
Lieutenant from a battalion of Tennessee cavalry, was sent with me as an
escort. The entire battalion of cavalry--in all, four hundred men--had
been in the Confederate service. They were captured at the taking of
Fort Donelson, and had been released by the Federal authorities, and had
enlisted in the Federal service. They had been running the courier line
to Pulaski, but had never got through with their dispatches. The men of
the battalion lived in the country lying between Clifton and Pulaski.
Soon after starting out from Clifton, my cavalry escort began to drop
off, one at a time, to visit their homes, and when I arrived at Pulaski
I had but two of my escort with me--one was the Lieutenant and the other
a Sergeant. I went through without being molested, but I came to the
conclusion that "_Confederate-Federal cavalry_" was of but little
service to the Government. _I never could trust a Union-secesh!_ It is
too much like serving God and Mammon. _The Government has placed
entirely too much confidence in that class of men._ I would as soon
trust a dog with my dinner. My life has many times been placed in
jeopardy by such characters, and my convictions are the result of
experience.
I returned to Clifton with dispatches alone, and without being molested.
Two days after I was sent back again alone. I always passed over the
most dangerous part of the route in the night. I went through
undisturbed, but on my return I was shot at twenty-one times. At
Lawrenceburg I was fired at from the dwelling-houses, as I passed
through the place, without any challenge to halt. One man was standing
on his porch, with his gun in his hand, evidently watching for me to
come, and fired at me as I passed. Four miles from Lawrenceburg I came
to several cotton-factories; the locality bore the reputation of being
loyal. There I was fired at, both from the factories and
dwelling-houses. I went through both of these places under full spur.
The last shot that was fired at me was by a man standing in the middle
of the road, who challenged me to halt, and at the same time brought his
piece to an aim. Instead of halting, I put spurs to my horse and dashed
by. I was not more than six feet from him when he fired, but, in the
excitement of the moment, his shot missed me, and I passed on unharmed.
I can assure the reader, from actual experience, that it is no very
pleasant thing to be a mark for people to shoot at. I am fully convinced
that it was citizens that fired at me, and that they had found out,
through the cavalry, that I have mentioned, that I was a bearer of
dispatches, and were watching for me.
I delivered my dispatches to General Force, and told him that I was
afraid to run the line alone. He gave me an order for twenty-one men,
with the privilege of selecting men of my choice. Two days after, I
again started to Pulaski, with my escort, who were infantry soldiers,
mounted. Previous to starting, I told the General my plan of operation,
to which he said, "Very well." I called at every house along the entire
route. If the people were in bed, I made them get up, and said to them,
"_I am running a courier line from Clifton to Pulaski, and you good,
loyal people have fired at me twenty-one times. If I am ever fired at
again, whether I am killed or not, every man, woman, and child within
four miles of this road, on either side, shall be shot, and your houses
burned._"
All of them claimed to be innocent, and said they were quiet,
peaceably-disposed citizens. I went through and back with my escort
without being molested, and for three weeks after, I ran the line alone,
without being disturbed.
The disposition of the Southern people is very much like that of a
butcher's Irish bull-dog. The more you try to coax and pet them, the
more they will try to bite you; but take a fire-brand and run at them,
and they will sneak off as cowardly as can be. The more the Government
coaxed and petted the Southern people, the worse they acted. If a favor
was extended to them, they would snap and snarl at the hand that held
it; but go right at them, with a sword in one hand and a fire-brand in
the other, and they cower down directly. So my barbarous threat proved a
wholesome remedy.
At the expiration of three weeks, General Leggett arrived at Clifton
with the 3d Division of the 17th Army Corps, bringing with his command
twenty-two hundred head of cattle for beef. The troops now prepared to
march across to Georgia, to increase the force operating under General
Sherman for the capture of Atlanta.
Preparatory to the marching of the troops, General Force sent me out on
the road to Florence, to ascertain the locality of Roddy's
cavalry--which was known to be hovering around--to prevent any attempt
it might make to stampede the cattle. I found out that the cavalry,
4,000 strong, was at Florence, and that Bill Johnson commanded 900 of
Roddy's choicest men, and that he--Roddy--had heard of the arrival of
the cattle, and had ordered Johnson to be on the alert for an
opportunity to stampede them. This I learned from citizens who seemed to
be well informed of the intended movements of both forces. Having
satisfied myself that the information was reliable, I did not go into
Florence, but crossed over to the Nashville and Florence military road,
which I came to seven miles from the latter place. I then went toward
Lawrenceburg, on my return to my command. Twelve miles from where I came
into the road, I halted at a dwelling-house, and said to the man of the
house, "Can I get my horse fed, and some supper here?"
"Where do you belong?"
"I belong to Bill Johnson's cavalry, and I'm going down to look up the
Yankee beef-cattle."
"Yes, yes; come in. The servant will feed your horse. I hope you'll
succeed in finding the cattle."
The servants were already engaged in preparing supper for the family.
Just before supper was announced, a daughter of the planter came in. I
should judge that she was about sixteen years old.
"Mother," said she, "what are you doing with that man here?"
"He's one of Johnson's men, and he's going down to hunt up the Yankee
beef-cattle," was the reply.
"Well, you had better watch him, or he'll steal something before he
leaves."
"Behave yourself, and not insult the man in that way," said the mother.
"I do behave. He ought to be insulted. You are going down to hunt up
the Yankees, are you?" she continued, addressing me. "You are a _pretty_
object to be engaged in hunting up _Yankees_. The sight of _one pair of
blue breeches_ would make _six such spared monuments of God's mercy as
you are get up and leave_."
At the table the impudent thing would watch me, and whenever she could
get my eye, she would make faces at me, which she carried to such an
extreme that her mother slapped her ears to make her be still.
Whether the whole family were loyal, or only the daughter, or whether
the daughter was secesh, and tried only to draw out my true character,
the reader alone must judge; my duties were such that I dare not trust
any of them.
I reached Clifton without being disturbed.
On the arrival of the troops to within two miles of Lawrenceburg, I was
sent ahead to that place, with instructions to go out on the military
road toward Florence, and see if Johnson was coming. I had an escort of
fourteen men from the 11th Illinois Cavalry. When we had gone three
miles on the military road, we came suddenly upon a dwarfish looking
man, mounted on a horse, who was wonderfully frightened at our
unexpected meeting.
"How far have you come on this military road?" I inquired of him.
"I have come from Florence."
"Did you see any of Bill Johnson's cavalry on the road?"
"No, sir; there is no cavalry on the road. Roddy's cavalry is at
Florence; there is none this side of there."
"Look here, you are lying to me," I said, eying him closely. "A'n't
there any cavalry camped at Shoal Creek?"
"No, sir; if there is I did not see them."
"_You are lying to me sure._ Johnson's cavalry is at Shoal Creek, not
more than a mile and a half from here, and you could not pass without
seeing it. You belong to the cavalry, and have been sent out to see if
the Yankees are coming with the cattle."
"No, indeed, I don't belong to them," he persisted; "I am no soldier,
and did not see any soldiers along the road. I am a weaver by trade, and
do not belong to the army."
"Well, go with us; we'll find out whether you are a soldier or not." His
fright now turned into terror. We went about a mile, when we met
Johnson's cavalry coming up, and were obliged to turn back. As we
turned, one of the cavalry, with a single stroke of his saber, severed
the weaver's head from his body, and left him for his comrades to take
care of. I have no doubt whatever but that he was a scout for Johnson,
and that he calculated his being a dwarf would clear all suspicion of
his belonging to the army.
I reported the approach of Johnson to General Leggett, who threw out a
brigade of infantry in line of battle, and prevented an attack upon the
cattle.
At Huntsville, Alabama, the ague came on me so bad that I was unable for
duty. Leaving my horse with a scout that had run with me considerable, I
went to the hospital. I did not like the looks of things there, so I
got sent on to Chattanooga, where I remained four days, at the end of
which time I felt a little better, and resolved to go back to the front.
Hospital discipline and I could not agree very well. I went to a member
of General McPherson's staff and told him what I wanted, and he gave me
a pass to report to General Sherman, wherever I could find him. I came
up with him just at the opening of the Buzzard's Roost fight, in which I
took a part. From there I was with the advanced guards until we came to
Resaca, at which place I assisted, on the right flank, in fighting
Wheeler's cavalry. I kept along with the advance of the army until we
arrived at Kingston, where General Leggett's command formed a junction
with us. There I found my horse. From there I had nothing of particular
interest to do until the rebs were driven to the Kenesaw Mountain.
At that place General McPherson sent for me, and asked me if I thought I
could go into Marietta and get back again. I told him I could, if
allowed to take my own plans to accomplish it, which he said I might do.
He told me to go in and find out whether the battery that commands the
approach along the railroad is a masked one, and count the guns; see
whether any State militia were there, and whether any part of the line
was held by them, and whether they were mixed in with other troops. I
was to examine the enemy's first line of works, and see how far they
extended; and how deep the ditches were, and whether I thought it
practicable to carry them by assault. He gave me fifty dollars in
greenbacks to defray my expenses, and sent me to Major-General Logan
for a Confederate uniform and some Confederate money. Thus equipped, I
started out the next day on horseback. I passed along our lines to the
extreme left, to General Garrard's head-quarters, where I left my
papers, and procured a pass through the lines. I passed the vedettes
about noon, and proceeded on in an easterly direction until I reached
Canton, sixteen miles from General McPherson's head-quarters. There I
staid all night. In the morning I resumed my journey, on a road leading
south, and halted for the night at a small village on the Chattahoochee
River, called Roswell Factories, twenty-eight miles from Canton. The
next morning a division of South Carolina cavalry came along from the
east, just as I was ready to start out. I fell in and attached myself to
company A, of the 1st South Carolina, and represented myself as
belonging to the 11th Texas Cavalry--which I knew was in our front when
I started out--going to join my command. The explanation proved
satisfactory, and I kept along with them till we reached Marietta, a
distance from Roswell Factories of eighteen miles. Then I left them,
under pretense of going to my own regiment, and went north along the
railroad, until I came to the battery that I was directed to visit. It
contained twelve large guns well masked. I then turned to the right and
rode along the first line of intrenchments. About eighty rods from the
masked battery I found a six-gun battery of small guns, and about eighty
rods further on was another six-gun battery of small guns.
About midway between the two six-gun batteries, I came upon a small
squad of militia that had been digging a spur from the main ditch for a
rifle-pit. One of the party stepped out of a pit that he had just
completed, and for a moment contemplated the result of his labor, and
then said: "Nary a Yankee is gwine to _come_ up thar; _thar_ is whar
I'll _stay_, and _thar_ is whar I'll _die_!" When we came in possession
of the place, however, we found no dead bodies "_thar_."
Down under the hill from the six-gun batteries, toward Marietta, I found
a large force of State militia, who were holding the right of the rebel
lines by themselves. There was nothing military in their appearance.
Their camp was without regularity, and filthy in the extreme. Many of
them had their families with them, and some of them had cows tied to
their wagons. The dog and cat were not left behind. The tongues of their
wagons usually pointed outward, and boards laid across from one
wagon-tongue to another served them as tables. Decrepit old men and
little boys, women and babies, white and black, were there. The various
kinds and calibers of small arms were as numerous and different as the
individuals that carried them. I thought to myself that it would be a
fine place to throw a few big shells. It would have created a panic, at
a trifling expense, that would have eclipsed any thing in the history of
the rebellion.
The ditches of the first line I found to be four feet deep and six feet
wide. A little to the right and front of the militia, I found a brigade
of Texas cavalry, composed, in part, of the 11th and 3d Texas
Regiments; two other Texas regiments made up the brigade. I went to the
Orderly Sergeant of company A, of the 11th Texas, and told him that I
belonged to company A of the 1st South Carolina Cavalry, and that my
regiment had just come in that day, and that I had got separated from my
command, and would like to stay with him over night, and then hunt up my
regiment in the morning. He went to the Colonel and asked permission to
keep me, which was granted. The Colonel of the 11th Texas was in command
of the brigade.
In the morning the brigade prepared to make a demonstration upon General
Wilder's command; so I told the orderly that I would go along and see
the fun. The command moved out a short distance and then halted. Just
then an orderly rode up and handed the Colonel a dispatch, which, when
he had read, he sent the whole command back to camp except the company I
was with; with that he said he would go out and capture a Yankee
vedette. We rode on until we came to a narrow ridge of ground. As we
were rising this, and just as we had reached its summit, we unexpectedly
received five shots from Federal vedettes, which killed the Colonel and
two privates. The command immediately broke to the rear and fled toward
camp. I broke back with them until we reached the foot of the hill, when
I turned to my right, and went up the hollow, I should judge about three
hundred yards, and again ascended the ridge, and crossed to a little
brook that flowed along the base of the hill, and crossed the road
between the vedettes and where the Colonel was killed. A little below
me, in the brook, was a Federal soldier, engaged in washing his face.
His hat and gun were lying upon the bank. He was but a mere boy. Seeing
me approach, he seized his gun, cocked it, and raised it to his face,
when I called to him, "Hold on, my little man, I am a Federal soldier;
don't shoot me!"
"Well, then, come in out of the wet! Don't you try to get away; if you
do I'll _bore_ you!"
The little fellow kept his piece leveled at me until I came up, and then
marched me away to the reserve. He was so elated with his capture that
he forgot his hat, and marched me in without it.
From the reserve I was taken to General Wilder's head-quarters, and then
to Colonel Miller's, where my horse was taken from me. From there I was
taken to the corral of rebel prisoners, near General Garrard's
head-quarters, and turned in. I sat down upon a block of wood, near the
entrance to the inclosure, and leaned my head upon my hands. I had been
there but a moment, when a prisoner, discovering that I was a fresh
arrival, stepped up and said, "To what command do you belong?"
"Clear out, and don't bother me," I replied; "I'm mad now."
The prisoners, seeing that I was not in a talking mood, left me to
myself. Shortly after, the Adjutant-General came out and discovered me
sitting there. I heard him call the sergeant of the guard, who shortly
came to the entrance and said, "Halloa, there, you long-haired fellow!
you are wanted here." He took me into the head-quarters, where I
received the papers that I had left there, and an order for my horse and
a pass to General McPherson's head-quarters, where I arrived after an
absence of three days and a half.
The information that I gathered showed that the enemy's right was the
most advantageous point for us to attack; so much so, that it was
thought by good judges that a single army corps could easily have
entered Marietta. General Sherman, however, was not left to choose his
place of attack, for the next morning the enemy made a furious assault
upon our right, against General Hooker's command. The onslaught was
impetuous and the pressure tremendous, but was heroically resisted. For
a time it seemed as if Hooker's entire command would be swept away by
the masses that were hurled against it. It was enough, however, that
"Fighting Joe" was there to animate his troops by his noble bearing.
The action was sustained in all its fury, and gradually spread from
right to left, until the whole line was engaged, and lasted until,
overpowered by the boys in blue, the enemy broke and fled, resulting in
a complete victory to the Federal arms, with the possession of Kenesaw
Mountain and Marietta.
The next day, at my request, General McPherson and staff, accompanied by
General Leggett, went with me to see the places that I had described in
my report. After we had visited them, General McPherson said that he was
convinced that I had reported correctly. I mention this because it is
not uncommon for spies to go out, and, on their return, report that
which they knew nothing about. It was a satisfaction for me to know that
he was satisfied that I had visited the places that I had described.
General Sherman continued to press the enemy toward Atlanta, and his
victory at Kenesaw Mountain was followed by an advance of his lines to
within two miles of that place, and extending around three sides of it.
The 20th day of July, General Hood's supersedure of General Johnston in
the command of the Confederate army was inaugurated by a furious attack
upon the 4th and 14th Corps, comprising General Sherman's center. Very
much to our satisfaction, General Johnston's slow-retreating process of
campaign was changed to one of rapid evolutions, and bold, desperate
dashes. Our greatest difficulty had been to get the enemy to fight. This
we now had an opportunity of doing. The hardy veterans of the North-west
received the attack with coolness and determination, and, though the
enemy came in massed columns, they stood their ground, dealing out death
and destruction, until Hood was glad to withdraw, leaving his dead and
wounded in our hands.
On the morning of July 22d, General McPherson was informed, by a member
of his staff, that he had heard, during the night, a noise like the
moving of artillery, which he surmised to be the enemy evacuating
Atlanta. General McPherson thought the officer was mistaken about the
evacuation of the place. The noise of moving troops, he thought, was
probably a body of rebel cavalry that had moved out on our left flank,
which lay stretched along on the east side of the place.
To clear up the matter, General McPherson told me to take my horse and
ride out to Decatur, which was four miles distant, and from there out on
the Stone Mountain road, and find out whether the enemy was there. He
instructed me to go as far as I could, and not get captured. If I found
the enemy, I was to drop back toward our lines, and feel along, at
intervals, for the enemy toward our left. This was on the supposition
that the enemy might have a line extending around our left flank and
along its rear.
Three-quarters of a mile out from Decatur, I came upon five rebel
soldiers on picket. They challenged me to halt, but I had no intention
of halting there; so I wheeled about and "lit out." The rebs might have
shot me as well as not. I returned to our lines, and went out on another
road, and had proceeded but about half a mile, when I came upon more
rebel pickets. They did not fire at me. I tried to get out, in all, at
thirteen different places, and every time encountered pickets, none of
whom tried to shoot me. I was well satisfied that the noise of moving
troops, heard in the night, were infantry and artillery moving round to
our rear, intending to surprise us, and for that reason their pickets
were forbidden to fire upon individuals or small parties.
I then hastened back and reported to General McPherson what I had seen.
He wanted to know if I was sure the pickets were infantry, and I told
him that I was. He seemed to doubt the possibility of their being
infantry. He and his staff then rode out to our rear picket-line, on a
road that I had not been out on, and, waiting there, he sent me out to
see if I could find any pickets. I went about sixty rods, when I came to
a dwelling-house, standing in a little opening in the woods that lined
either side of the road. It was then about 11 o'clock, A. M., I had
become very thirsty from constant riding in the hot sun since early in
the morning; so I rode up to the door of the house, and inquired of a
lady there if she would have the kindness to give me a drink of water.
Said she, "I have just drawn a bucket of fresh water at the well, back
there, and you can have some in welcome; but I reckon you are a Federal
soldier, and if you stop to get it, you will get killed, for a Colonel
and two of _our_ soldiers have just this minute stepped away from the
well." Without stopping to drink, I rode back into the road, and there,
about two hundred yards further on, stood the Colonel and two soldiers.
They did not fire at me, but the Colonel, who had his sword in his hand,
gave it a defiant flourish, as if to say, "You'll catch it directly." I
went back to General McPherson, and reported what I had found, who then
rode out with me and saw for himself. He said it was about noon, and he
would go back to dinner and send out a reconnoitering party.
While we were eating our dinner, a firing commenced on the picket-line
to the rear, and in less than five minutes an entire division was
engaged. Brigades of troops had been stationed near the rear pickets as
a reserve. It was these troops that were attacked. The troops known as
the "Iowa Brigade" of the 17th Army Corps, were among the reserves.
Against this brigade were massed such overwhelming numbers, that it was
compelled to give way and fall back. General McPherson immediately rode
to the scene of action, and ordered up a brigade to its support.
Anticipating that when the first shock of the onset was over the enemy
would ease up, and swing round in mass against the rear of his left, he
immediately dispatched his staff with orders to the different commanders
to counteract such a move. He watched the progress of the action until
satisfied that his presence was no longer needed there, and then started
for the left.
The falling back and changing of position of the Iowa brigade had left a
gap in our lines to the rear. Through this a part of the rebel line
advanced. As we were making our way along, we met the rebel
skirmish-line, whose direction of advance had become changed by the
broken character of the country. A volley was fired at us, which
instantly killed General McPherson, the ball passing in at one side and
out at the other, piercing his heart and lungs; another wounding his
horse across the breast, and another wounding his horse across the neck,
and another passed through the lower part of one of the forefeet of my
horse, tearing off a shoe and leaving a groove across the entire foot.
Seizing the General's horse by the bridle, I led him away out of danger.
Two orderlies and a Captain of the Signal Corps were the only persons,
besides myself, that were near the General when he fell. As soon as it
was known that McPherson had fallen, Major-General Logan took command
of the Army of the Tennessee. I turned the horse over to the Captain of
the Signal Corps, to take care of, who despatched an orderly to Colonel
Clark, Assistant Adjutant-General of McPherson's staff, with the
intelligence of his death. My horse was so lamed by his wound that I
could not ride him, so I took him to General Leggett's head-quarters and
left him, took my gun and went to the front.
By this time the action had become general along the Army of the
Tennessee, and raged furiously in front and in rear. Attaching myself to
the first regiment that I came to, the 18th Missouri Infantry, I fought
with my rifle until the action was over.
The contest was a desperate one, and the slaughter on both sides
dreadful. Five times we jumped our works, fighting sometimes to the
front and sometimes to the rear. The action did not extend beyond the
Army of the Tennessee. When the action had ceased, we were ordered to
fall back a short distance and throw up intrenchments. The Colonel of
the regiment I was with now saw me for the first time, and, from my
dress, supposing that I was a reb. trying to evade capture, said to me:
"Look 'e here, mister, where do you belong?"
"I am a member of the 20th Ohio Infantry, but I belong to Gen.
McPherson's head-quarters."
"What are you doing here?"
"I have been in the fight. I had my horse disabled in the beginning of
the action, so I took my gun and went to fighting with your regiment,
and I have been with it for two hours." I then handed him an order that
General McPherson had given me, which said, "Guards, pickets, and
patrols will pass Corporal Lorain Ruggles, of the 20th Ohio Veteran
Volunteer Infantry, who is on special duty, at all places and at all
hours, without the countersign."
When he had read it, he said, "May be General McPherson gave you that
and may be you stole it from the pocket of a dead soldier. You look to
me more like a _reb._ than any thing else."
I then showed him an order that General Leggett had given me to draw
fresh beef for myself and scouts that messed with me. Having read it, he
said, "It may all be right, but I don't want such a looking man in my
regiment; if you have got a hole you had better hunt it."
We won a victory, but at a fearful cost of life, of both officers and
men. Among the fallen heroes of this war, there has been none more
amiable in character, none whose services were of more value to the
Government, and none whose loss was more regretted by the men of his
command than the brave, gallant McPherson. He was loved and highly
esteemed by all that knew him. I can scarcely describe my sorrow at his
loss. My attachment had become intimate, and I felt that I had not only
lost my commanding officer, but my most valued friend. Such feelings of
sorrow and loneliness came over me that I was well-nigh incapacitated
for duty. I had felt lonely when General Grant left the Army of the
Tennessee, but now I scarcely knew what to do.
Shortly after the battle of the 22d of July, General Sherman changed his
position by ordering the Army of the Tennessee to take its position on
the right of the army, leaving the armies of the Ohio and the
Cumberland where they were. This movement enabled General Sherman to
extend his right toward the junction of the railroad to the south of
Atlanta. The movement having been effected, General Logan, on the 28th
of July, ordered the 16th Army Corps to advance its lines, and the 14th
Corps, at the same time, to swing round its left, and the 15th Corps to
swing round its right, so that the 14th and 15th Corps formed converging
lines toward the intrenchments from which the 16th Corps had advanced.
General Hood ordered an attack on the advancing Corps, which, when it
had fairly drawn on the engagement, as had been previously arranged,
fell back as if beaten, until it reached its place of starting behind
its intrenchments, closely followed by the enemy. The 16th Corps then
poured a tremendous fire into Hood's front, and the 14th and 15th Corps
an oblique fire into his flanks. He kept pressing his men up in masses
to the contest, until it seemed as if the entire Confederate army would
be swept away by the terrible cross-fire to which it was exposed. The
action lasted from 9 o'clock, A. M., until 5 o'clock, P. M., when the
enemy withdrew, leaving his dead and wounded in our hands. The loss of
the enemy was five thousand killed, besides wounded and prisoners. Our
loss was very light in comparison to that of the enemy. I had no hand in
this fight, but had an excellent opportunity of witnessing it. The next
day I went over the battle-ground. The rebel dead lay so thick upon the
ground that I could not ride along without stepping on them, and was
compelled to leave my horse and proceed on foot. The destruction of life
to the enemy, compared with our own loss, was greater than in any other
action that I have ever witnessed.