APPOINTED A MAJOR-GENERAL--THE SECRET EXPEDITION UNDER CARD THE
SCOUT--HIS CAPTURE BY GUERRILLAS--ESCAPE--A REVENGE PARTY--WOMEN
SOLDIERS--A FIGHT WITH SABRES--TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN--A FOOLISH
ADVENTURE.
On the 6th of January, 1863, my division settled quietly down in its
camp south of Murfreesboro'. Its exhausted condition after the
terrible experiences of the preceding week required attention. It
needed recuperation, reinforcement, and reorganization, and I set
about these matters without delay, in anticipation of active
operations early in the spring. No forward movement was made for
nearly six months, however, and throughout this period drills,
parades, reconnoissances, and foraging expeditions filled in the time
profitably. In addition to these exercises the construction of
permanent fortifications for the security of Murfreesboro' was
undertaken by General Rosecrans, and large details from my troops
were furnished daily for the work. Much attention was also given to
creating a more perfect system of guard and picket duty-a matter that
had hitherto been somewhat neglected in the army, as its constant
activity had permitted scant opportunity for the development of such
a system. It was at this time that I received my appointment as a
major-general of Volunteers. My promotion had been recommended by
General Rosecrans immediately after the battle of Stone River, but
for some reason it was delayed until April, and though a long time
elapsed between the promise and the performance, my gratification was
extreme.
My scout, Card, was exceedingly useful while encamped near
Murfreesboro, making several trips to East Tennessee within the
enemy's lines to collect information as to the condition of the loyal
people there, and to encourage them with the hope of early
liberation. He also brought back from each trip very accurate
statements as to the strength and doings of the Confederate army,
fixing almost with certainty its numbers and the locations of its
different divisions, and enabling my engineer-officer--Major
Morhardt--to construct good maps of the country in our front. On
these dangerous excursions Card was always accompanied by one of his
brothers, the other remaining with me to be ready for duty if any
accident occurred to those who had gone out, or in case I wanted to
communicate with them. In this way we kept well posted, although the
intelligence these men brought was almost always secured at the risk
of their lives.
Early in the spring, before the Tullahoma campaign began, I thought
it would be practicable, by sending out a small secret expedition of
but three or four men, to break the Nashville and Chattanooga
railroad between Chattanooga and the enemy's position at Tullahoma by
burning the bridges in Crow Creek valley from its head to Stevenson,
Alabama, and then the great bridge across the Tennessee River at
Bridgeport. Feeling confident that I could persuade Card to
undertake the perilous duty, I broached the contemplated project to
him, and he at once jumped at the opportunity of thus distinguishing
himself, saying that with one of his brothers and three other loyal
East Tennesseeans, whose services he knew could be enlisted, he felt
sure of carrying out the idea, so I gave him authority to choose his
own assistants. In a few days his men appeared at my headquarters,
and when supplied with money in notes of the State Bank of Tennessee,
current everywhere as gold in those days, the party, composed of
Card, the second brother, and the three East Tennesseeans, started on
their precarious enterprise, their course being directed first toward
the Cumberland Mountains, intending to strike the Nashville and
Chattanooga railroad somewhere above Anderson's station. They
expected to get back in about fifteen days, but I looked for some
knowledge of the progress of their adventure before the expiration of
that period, hoping to hear through Confederate sources prisoners and
the like-of the destruction of the bridges. I waited in patience for
such news, but none came, and as the time Card had allotted himself
passed by, I watched anxiously for his return, for, as there was
scarcely a doubt that the expedition had proved a failure, the fate
of the party became a matter of deep concern to Card's remaining
brother and to me. Finally this brother volunteered to go to his
father's house in East Tennessee to get tidings of the party, and I
consented, for the probabilities were that some of them had made
their way to that point, or at least that some information had
reached there about them. As day after day went by, the time fixed
for this brother's return came round, yet he also remained out; but
some days after the lad was due Card himself turned up accompanied by
the brother he had taken with him, soon explained his delay in
getting back, and gave me the story of his adventures while absent.
After leaving my camp, his party had followed various byways across
the Cumberland Mountains to Crow Creek Valley, as instructed; but
when nearing the railroad above Anderson's Station, they were
captured by some guerrillas prowling about that vicinity, and being
suspected of disloyalty to the Confederacy, were carried to
Chattanooga and imprisoned as Yankee spies. Their prospects now were
decidedly discouraging, for death stared them in the face.
Fortunately, however, some delays occurred relative to the
disposition that should be made of them, and they, meanwhile,
effected their escape from their jailors by way of one of the prison
windows, from which they managed to displace a bar, and by a skiff,
in the darkness of night, crossed the Tennessee River a little below
Chattanooga. From this point the party made their way back to my
camp, traveling only at night, hiding in the woods by day, and for
food depending on loyal citizens that Card had become acquainted with
when preaching and peddling.
Card's first inquiry after relating his story was for the youngest
brother, whom he had left with me. I told him what I had done, in my
anxiety about himself, and that more than sufficient time had elapsed
for his brother's return. His reply was: "They have caught him. The
poor fellow is dead." His surmise proved correct; for news soon came
that the poor boy had been captured at his father's house, and
hanged. The blow to Card was a severe one, and so hardened his heart
against the guerrillas in the neighborhood of his father's home--for
he knew they were guilty of his brother's murder--that it was with
difficulty I could persuade him to continue in the employment of the
Government, so determined was he to avenge his brother's death at the
first opportunity. Finally, however, I succeeded in quieting the
almost uncontrollable rage that seemed to possess him, and he
remained with me during the Tullahoma and Chickamauga campaigns; but
when we reached Knoxville the next winter, he took his departure,
informing me that he was going for the bushwhackers who had killed
his brother. A short time after he left me, I saw him at the head of
about thirty well-armed East Tennesseeans--refugees. They were
determined-looking men, seeking revenge for the wrongs and sufferings
that had been put upon them in the last two years, and no doubt
wreaked their vengeance right and left on all who had been in any way
instrumental in persecuting them.
The feeding of our army from the base at Louisville was attended with
a great many difficulties, as the enemy's cavalry was constantly
breaking the railroad and intercepting our communications on the
Cumberland River at different points that were easily accessible to
his then superior force of troopers. The accumulation of reserve
stores was therefore not an easy task, and to get forage ahead a few
days was well-nigh impossible, unless that brought from the North was
supplemented by what we could gather from the country. Corn was
abundant in the region to the south and southwest of Murfreesboro',
so to make good our deficiences in this respect, I employed a brigade
about once a week in the duty of collecting and bringing in forage,
sending out sometimes as many as a hundred and fifty wagons to haul
the grain which my scouts had previously located. In nearly every
one of these expeditions the enemy was encountered, and the wagons
were usually loaded while the skirmishers kept up a running fire,
Often there would occur a respectable brush, with the loss on each
side of a number of killed and wounded. The officer in direct
command always reported to me personally whatever had happened during
the time he was out--the result of his reconnoissance, so to speak,
for that war the real nature of these excursions--and on one occasion
the colonel in command, Colonel Conrad, of the Fifteenth Missouri,
informed me that he got through without much difficulty; in fact,
that everything had gone all right and been eminently satisfactory,
except that in returning he had been mortified greatly by the conduct
of the two females belonging to the detachment and division train at
my headquarters. These women, he said, had given much annoyance by
getting drunk, and to some extent demoralizing his men. To say that
I was astonished at his statement would be a mild way of putting it,
and had I not known him to be a most upright man and of sound sense,
I should have doubted not only his veracity, but his sanity.
Inquiring who they were and for further details, I was informed that
there certainly were in the command two females, that in some
mysterious manner had attached themselves to the service as soldiers;
that one, an East Tennessee woman, was a teamster in the division
wagon-train and the other a private soldier in a cavalry company
temporarily attached to my headquarters for escort duty. While out
on the foraging expedition these Amazons had secured a supply of
"apple-jack" by some means, got very drunk, and on the return had
fallen into Stone River and been nearly drowned. After they had been
fished from, the water, in the process of resuscitation their sex was
disclosed, though up to this time it appeared to be known only to
each other. The story was straight and the circumstance clear,
so, convinced of Conrad's continued sanity, I directed the
provost-marshal to bring in arrest to my headquarters the two
disturbers of Conrad's peace of mind, After some little search the
East Tennessee woman was found in camp, somewhat the worse for the
experiences of the day before, but awaiting her fate content idly
smoking a cob-pipe. She was brought to me, and put in duress under
charge of the division surgeon until her companion could be secured.
To the doctor she related that the year before she had "refugeed" from
East Tennessee, and on arriving in Louisville assumed men's apparel
and sought and obtained employment as a teamster in the
quartermaster's department. Her features were very large, and so
coarse and masculine was her general appearance that she would readily
have passed as a man, and in her case the deception was no doubt
easily practiced. Next day the "she dragoon" was caught, and proved
to be a rather prepossessing young woman, and though necessarily
bronzed and hardened by exposure, I doubt if, even with these marks of
campaigning, she could have deceived as readily as did her companion.
How the two got acquainted, I never learned, and though they had
joined the army independently of each other, yet an intimacy had
sprung up between them long before the mishaps of the foraging
expedition. They both were forwarded to army headquarters, and, when
provided with clothing suited to their sex, sent back to Nashville,
and thence beyond our lines to Louisville.
On January 9, by an order from the War Department, the Army of the
Cumberland had been divided into three corps, designated the
Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-first. This order did not alter the
composition of the former grand divisions, nor change the commanders,
but the new nomenclature was a decided improvement over the clumsy
designations Right Wing, Centre, and Left Wing, which were well
calculated to lead to confusion sometimes. McCook's wing became the
Twentieth Corps, and my division continued of the same organization,
and held the same number as formerly-the Third Division, Twentieth
Corps. My first brigade was now commanded by Brigadier-General
William H. Lytle, the second by Colonel Bernard Laiboldt, and the
third by Colonel Luther P. Bradley.
On the 4th of March I was directed to move in light marching order
toward Franklin and join General Gordon Granger, to take part in some
operations which he was projecting against General Earl Van Dorn,
then at Spring Hill. Knowing that my line of march would carry me
through a region where forage was plentiful, I took along a large
train of empty wagons, which I determined to fill with corn and send
back to Murfreesboro', believing that I could successfully cover the
train by Minty's brigade of cavalry, which had joined me for the
purpose of aiding in a reconnoissance toward Shelbyville. In
marching the column I placed a regiment of infantry at its head, then
the wagon-train, then a brigade of infantry--masking the cavalry
behind this brigade. The enemy, discovering that the train was with
us, and thinking he could capture it, came boldly out with his,
cavalry to attack. The head of his column came up to the crossroads
at Versailles, but holding him there, I passed the train and infantry
brigade beyond toward Eagleville, and when my cavalry had been thus
unmasked, Minty, followed by the balance of my division, which was
still behind, charged him with the sabre. Success was immediate and
complete, and pursuit of the routed forces continued through
Unionville, until we fell upon and drove in the Confederate outposts
at Shelbyville. Here the enemy was taken by surprise evidently,
which was most fortunate for us, otherwise the consequences might
have been disastrous. Minty captured in the charge about fifty
prisoners and a few wagons and mules, and thus enabled me to load my
train with corn, and send it back to Murfreesboro' unmolested. In
this little fight the sabre was freely used by both sides, and I do
not believe that during the whole war I again knew of so large a
percentage of wounds by that arm in proportion to the numbers
engaged.
That night I encamped at Eagleville, and next day reported to Granger
at Franklin, arriving in the midst of much excitement prevailing on
account of the loss of Coburn's brigade, which had been captured the
day before a little distance south of that point, while marching to
form a junction with a column that had been directed on Columbia from
Murfreesboro'. Shortly after Coburn's capture General Granger had
come upon the scene, and the next day he advanced my division and
Minty's troops directly on Spring Hill, with a view to making some
reprisal; but Van Dorn had no intention of accommodating us, and
retired from Spring Hill, offering but little resistance. He
continued to fall back, till finally he got behind Duck River, where
operations against him ceased; for, in consequence of the incessant
rains of the season, the streams had become almost impassable.
Later, I returned by way of Franklin to my old camp at Murfreesboro',
passing over on this march the ground on which the Confederate
General Hood met with such disaster the following year in his attack
on Stanley's corps.
My command had all returned from the Franklin expedition to
Murfreesboro' and gone into camp on the Salem pike by the latter part
of March, from which time till June it took part in only the little
affairs of outposts occurring every now and then on my own front. In
the meanwhile General Rosecrans had been materially reinforced by the
return of sick and wounded men; his army had become well disciplined,
and was tolerably supplied; and he was repeatedly pressed by the
authorities at Washington to undertake offensive operations.
During the spring and early summer Rosecrans resisted, with a great
deal of spirit and on various grounds, these frequent urgings, and
out of this grew up an acrimonious correspondence and strained
feeling between him and General Halleck. Early in June, however,
stores had been accumulated and other preparations made for a move
forward, Resecrans seeming to have decided that he could safely risk
an advance, with the prospect of good results. Before finally
deciding, he called upon most of his corps and division commanders
for their opinions on certain propositions which he presented, and
most of them still opposed the projected movement, I among the
number, reasoning that while General Grant was operating against
Vicksburg, it was better to hold Bragg in Middle Tennessee than to
push him so far back into Georgia that interior means of
communication would give the Confederate Government the opportunity
of quickly joining a part of his force to that of General Johnson in
Mississippi.
At this stage, and in fact prior to it, Rosecrans seemed to manifest
special confidence in me, often discussing his plans with me
independent of the occasions on which he formally referred them for
my views. I recollect that on two different occasions about this
time he unfolded his designs to me in this informal way, outlining
generally how he expected ultimately to force Bragg south of the
Tennessee River, and going into the details of the contemplated move
on Tullahoma. His schemes, to my mind, were not only comprehensive,
but exact, and showed conclusively, what no one doubted then, that
they were original with him. I found in them very little to
criticise unfavorably, if we were to move at all, and Rosecrans
certainly impressed me that he favored an advance at an early day,
though many of his generals were against it until the operations on
the Mississippi River should culminate in something definite. There
was much, fully apparent in the circumstances about his headquarters,
leading to the conviction that Rosecrans originated the Tullahoma
campaign, and the record of his prior performances collaterally
sustains the visible evidence then existing. In my opinion, then,
based on a clear recollection of various occurrences growing out of
our intimacy, he conceived the plan of the Tullahoma campaign and the
one succeeding it; and is therefore entitled to every credit that
attended their execution, no matter what may be claimed for others.
On the 23d of June Bragg was covering his position north of Duck
River with a front extending from McMinnville, where his cavalry
rested, through Wartrace and Shelbyville to Columbia, his depot being
at Tullahoma. Rosecrans, thinking that Bragg would offer strong
resistance at Shelbyville--which was somewhat protected by a spur
of low mountains or hills, offshoots of the Cumberland Mountains
--decided to turn that place; consequently, he directed the mass
of the Union army on the enemy's right flank, about Manchester.
On the 26th of June McCook's corps advanced toward Liberty Gap, my
divisions marching on the Shelbyville pike. I had proceeded but a
few miles when I encountered the enemy's pickets, who fell back to
Christiana, about nine miles from Murfreesboro'. Here I was assailed
pretty wickedly by the enemy's sharpshooters and a section of
artillery, but as I was instructed to do nothing more than cover the
road from Eagleville, over which Brannan's division was to approach
Christiana, I made little reply to this severe annoyance, wishing to
conceal the strength of my force. As soon as the head of Brannan's
column arrived I marched across-country to the left, and encamped
that night at the little town of Millersburg, in the vicinity of
Liberty Gap. I was directed to move from Millersburg, on Hoover's
Gap--a pass in the range of hills already referred to, through which
ran the turnpike from Murfreesboro' to Manchester--but heavy rains
had made the country roads almost impassable, and the last of my
division did not reach Hoover's Gap till the morning of June 27,
after its abandonment by the enemy. Continuing on to Fairfield, the
head of my column met, south of that place, a small force of
Confederate infantry and cavalry, which after a slight skirmish
Laiboldt's brigade drove back toward Wartrace. The next morning I
arrived at Manchester, where I remained quiet for the day. Early on
the 29th I marched by the Lynchburg road for Tullahoma, where the
enemy was believed to be in force, and came into position about six
miles from the town.
By the 31st the whole army had been concentrated, in spite of many
difficulties, and though, on account of the heavy rains that had
fallen almost incessantly since we left Murfreesboro', its movements
had been slow and somewhat inaccurate, yet the precision with which
it took up a line of battle for an attack on Tullahoma showed that
forethought and study had been given to every detail. The enemy had
determined to fall back from Tullahoma at the beginning of the
campaign, however, and as we advanced, his evacuation had so far
progressed that when, on July 1. We reached the earthworks thrown.
up early in the year for the defense of the place, he had almost
wholly disappeared, carrying off all his stores and munitions of war
except some little subsistence and eleven pieces of artillery. A
strong rearguard remained to cover the retreat, and on my front the
usual encounters between advancing and retreating forces took place.
Just before reaching the intrenchments on the Lynchburg road, I came
upon an open space that was covered by a network of fallen trees and
underbrush, which had been slashed all along in front of the enemy's
earthworks. This made our progress very difficult, but I shortly
became satisfied that there were only a few of the enemy within the
works, so moving a battalion of cavalry that had joined me the day
before down the road as rapidly as the obstructions would permit, the
Confederate pickets quickly departed, and we gained possession of the
town. Three siege guns, four caissons, a few stores, and a small
number of prisoners fell into my hands.
That same evening orders were issued to the army to push on from
Tullahoma in pursuit, for, as it was thought that we might not be
able to cross Elk River on account of its swollen condition, we could
do the enemy some damage by keeping close as possible at his heels.
I marched on the Winchester road at 3 o'clock on the 2d of July and
about 8 o'clock reached Elk River ford. The stream was for the time
truly an impassable torrent, and all hope of crossing by the
Winchester ford had to be abandoned. Deeming that further effort
should be made, however, under guidance of Card, I turned the head of
my column in the direction of Alisona, marching up the river and
nearly parallel with it till I came to Rock Creek. With a little
delay we got across Rock Creek, which was also much swollen, and
finding a short distance above its mouth a ford on Elk River that
Card said was practicable, I determined to attempt it: Some of the
enemy's cavalry were guarding this ford, but after a sharp little
skirmish my battalion of cavalry crossed and took up a strong
position on the other bank. The stream was very high and the current
very swift, the water, tumbling along over its rocky bed in an
immense volume, but still it was fordable for infantry if means could
be devised by which the men could keep their feet. A cable was
stretched across just below the ford as a lifeline for the weaker
ones, and then the men of the entire division having secured their
ammunition by placing the cartridge-boxes on their shoulders, the
column pushed cheerfully into the rushing current. The men as they
entered the water joined each other in sets of four in a close
embrace, which enabled them to retain a foothold and successfully
resist the force of the flood. When they were across I turned the
column down the left bank of Elk River, and driving the enemy from
some slight works near Estelle Springs, regained the Winchester road.
By this time it was clear that Bragg intended to fall back behind the
Tennessee River, and our only chance of accomplishing anything of
importance was to smash up his rear-guard before it crossed the
Cumberland Mountains, and in pursuance of this idea I was directed to
attack such of his force as was holding on to Winchester. At 4
o'clock on the morning of July 2 I moved on that town, and when we
got close to it directed my mounted troops to charge a small force of
Confederate cavalry that was picketing their front. The Confederates
resisted but little, and our men went with them in a disorderly chase
through the village to Boiling Fork, a small stream about half a mile
beyond. Here the fleeing pickets, rallying behind a stronger force,
made a stand, and I was directed by McCook to delay till I
ascertained if Davis's division, which was to support me, had made
the crossing of Elk River, and until I could open up communication
with Brannan's division, which was to come in on my left at Decherd.
As soon as I learned that Davis was across I pushed on, but the delay
had permitted the enemy to pull his rear-guard up on the mountain,
and rendered nugatory all further efforts to hurt him materially, our
only returns consisting in forcing him to relinquish a small amount
of transportation and forage at the mouth of the pass just beyond
Cowan, a station on the line of the Nashville and Chattanooga
railroad.
At Cowan, Colonel Watkins, of the Sixth Kentucky Cavalry, reported to
me with twelve hundred mounted men. Having heard during the night
that the enemy had halted on the mountain near the University--an
educational establishment on the summit--I directed Watkins to make a
reconnoissance and find out the value of the information. He learned
that Wharton's brigade of cavalry was halted at the University to
cover a moderately large force of the enemy's infantry which had not
yet got down the mountain on the other side, so I pushed Watkins out
again on the 5th, supporting him by a brigade of infantry, which I
accompanied myself. We were too late, however, for when we arrived
at the top of the mountain Wharton had disappeared, and though
Watkins pursued to Bridgeport, he was able to do nothing more, and on
his return reported that the last of the enemy had crossed the
Tennessee River and burned the railroad bridge.
Nothing further could now be done, so I instructed Watkins to rejoin
the division at Cowan, and being greatly fatigued by the hard
campaigning of the previous ten days, I concluded to go back to my
camp in a more comfortable way than on the back of my tired horse.
In his retreat the enemy had not disturbed the railway track at all,
and as we had captured a hand-car at Cowan, I thought I would have it
brought up to the station near the University to carry me down the
mountain to my camp, and, desiring company, I persuasively invited
Colonel Frank T. Sherman to ride with me. I sent for the car by a
courier, and for a long time patiently awaited its arrival, in fact,
until all the returning troops had passed us, but still it did not
come. Thinking it somewhat risky to remain at the station without
protection, Sherman and myself started our horses to Cowan by our
orderlies, and set out on foot to meet the car, trudging along down
the track in momentary expectation of falling in with our private
conveyance. We had not gone very far before night overtook us, and
we then began to realize the dangers surrounding us, for there we
were alone and helpless, tramping on in the darkness over an unknown
railroad track in the enemy's country, liable on the one hand to go
tumbling through some bridge or trestle, and on the other, to
possible capture or death at the hands of the guerrillas then
infesting these mountains. Just after dark we came to a little cabin
near the track, where we made bold to ask for water, notwithstanding
the fact that to disclose ourselves to the inmates might lead to
fatal consequences. The water was kindly given, but the owner and
his family were very much exercised lest some misfortune might befall
us near their house, so they encouraged us to move on with a frankness
inspired by fear of future trouble to themselves.
At every turn we eagerly hoped to meet the hand-car, but it never
came, and we jolted on from tie to tie for eleven weary miles,
reaching Cowan after midnight, exhausted and sore in every muscle
from frequent falls on the rough, unballasted road-bed. Inquiry.
developed that the car had been well manned, and started to us as
ordered, and nobody could account for its non-arrival. Further
investigation next day showed, however, that when it reached the foot
of the mountain, where the railroad formed a junction, the improvised
crew, in the belief no doubt that the University was on the main line
instead of near the branch to Tracy City, followed the main stem
until it carried them clear across the range down the Crow Creek
Valley, where the party was captured.
I had reason to remember for many a day this foolish adventure, for
my sore bones and bruised muscles, caused me physical suffering until
I left the Army of the Cumberland the next spring; but I had still
more reason to feel for my captured men, and on this account I have
never ceased to regret that I so thoughtlessly undertook to rejoin my
troops by rail, instead of sticking to my faithful horse.