CROSSING THE TENNESSEE RIVER
Twenty-four hours after the affair described in the last chapter, the
Riverlawns rode into Huntsville, bringing with them their last prisoners
and their horses. They found that the larger portion of the Union
cavalry had already arrived, and prisoners, horses, and negroes ready to
flee to the North, were numerous.
"You have done remarkably well, Major Lyon," said the general in
command, on receiving Deck's report. "I doubt if any of our forces have
done better," and with this compliment the youthful commander was
dismissed.
The stop in Huntsville did not last long, some of the cavalry leaving on
the same night that the Riverlawns came in. By a pre-arranged plan the
Union forces spread out into a large semicircle when on their way
northward, and they came home with about three hundred prisoners,
sixteen hundred horses and mules, and a thousand head of cattle, sheep,
and pigs. On the return, the Riverlawns encountered but one body of the
enemy, less than fifteen in number, and these fled at the first sight of
the Unionists. About six hundred negroes joined the army on its
northward movement, and thus escaped to the free States, much to their
own satisfaction.
General Bragg, accompanied by Wheeler's cavalry force, had escaped to
Chattanooga, and it was thought by some that General Rosecrans ought to
pursue the enemy without delay. But there were great difficulties in the
way. The enemy had torn up the railroads, the Army of the Cumberland,
despite such raids as the one just mentioned, was short of rations and
forage, and the commanding general felt that he must have support for
his flanks ere braving the river and the mountain gaps, which he felt
the Confederates would hold as long as possible.
To thoroughly understand the situation, the reader must remember that
between the Union army and Chattanooga lay the lofty Cumberland
Mountains, washed on either side by the waters of the Elk and the
Tennessee rivers. To the northward the mountains were rugged and but
poorly wooded; to the southward they were partly broken up by the
Sequatchie River, flowing through the valley of that name, nearly fifty
miles long, a valley much broken in spots.
Behind this great barrier Bragg felt, for a time at least, safe, and he
utilized each hour in adding to his troops, men being forced into the
Southern army wherever and whenever they could be found. The soldiers
were poorly clothed and scantily fed, and some of the cavalry were
mounted on mules. The firearms were of various sorts, English and
Belgian weapons being quite common.
It was not until the 16th of August that the Army of the Cumberland
began that momentous advance which will ever be remembered in the annals
of history. In the meantime, railroads had been repaired, the artillery
had been equipped with extra heavy harness for the horses, boats on the
rivers had been put in good condition, and, equally important, the corn
had ripened in sunny spots and been gathered in by the army
quartermasters. The loss of their crop of corn caused many a
heartburning among the farmers of this section of our country, but the
confiscation was one of actual necessity; and, wherever such a course
seemed just, payments were made for what was taken.
Twice had Rosecrans defeated the enemy by turning his flank. Now, with
the mountains between himself and Bragg's front, there seemed nothing to
do but to try the trick again. But the movement must be well planned and
well executed, or the enemy would immediately become aware of what was
going on, and make a move that would upset all the Union commander's
calculations.
As has been said, the mountains to the northward were high and rugged;
to the southward, they were broken up by a long valley, a river, and
several small creeks. To turn the enemy's right would, therefore,
require a long and arduous journey through a country almost barren.
Rosecrans resolved to make his real movement to the left; that is, to
the southward of Chattanooga. And the first act in the great drama was
to hoodwink Bragg into believing that he was coming around by the
mountain paths to the north.
Carrying with them ammunition enough for two great battles, and rations
for twenty-five days, the forward movement began by throwing
Crittenden's corps over the Cumberland Mountains and Walden's Ridge into
the Tennessee Valley, directly opposite and to the north of Chattanooga.
The corps moved from Hillsboro, Manchester, and McMinnville, and when in
the Tennessee Valley were joined by Wilder's brigade of mounted
infantry,--a portion of the fourteenth corps. To these bodies were added
Minty's cavalry, which, riding on the left, through Sparta and
Pikeville, operated along the river for twenty-eight miles above
Blythe's Ferry.
The boys in blue were bound to deceive the enemy if the thing could be
done, and at night immense camp-fires were lighted for miles along the
river front, always in front and to the north of Chattanooga.
Foot-soldiers and cavalry showed themselves first at one place and then
another, and at night bugle-calls sounded out in spots where no cavalry
had yet been or was likely to be. On the river bank, trees were cut down
and sawed up, the ends being left to float down the stream, to give the
enemy the impression that extensive bridge-building was on the way. One
detachment climbed up a nearby ridge, and with its battery threw shells
toward the city,--something that made the inhabitants imagine that the
final contest was now at hand.
And while all this was going on, the main portion of the Union forces
had crossed the Cumberland Mountains thirty odd miles below, and were
gathering on the bank of the Tennessee River. A train had come in,
bringing on it a pontoon-bridge which was to be thrown across the stream
at Caperton. The train was stopped in the woods, and the boats and
planking were hurried forward in secret.
While the sun was still rising on the 29th of August, fifty boats, with
a capacity of twenty-five hundred men, were taken across the open fields
of Caperton, launched, and rowed to the south shore of the Tennessee.
The picket guard of the enemy was driven away, and soon the
pontoon-bridge was in position. Immediately upon the completion of the
work, Davis's division crossed and went into camp at the base of Raccoon
Mountain. In three days his division, with Johnston's, had marched
across the range, and forty-eight hours later these troops established
themselves at Winston's Pass over Lookout Mountain, within forty-two
miles of Bragg's stronghold. The same day Stanley's cavalry, under
General Mitchell, crossed Lookout, and on the week following descended
into Broomtown Valley.
The march of the army was now well under way, and Thomas's corps and the
other troops came along at various points, covering the ground as
rapidly as the nature of the territory permitted. It was felt that
General Bragg must know by this time what was going on, and strict watch
was kept all along the line to prevent a surprise.
The laying of the pontoon-bridge was to Major Deck Lyon and his brother,
Captain Artie, a good deal of a novelty, and the Riverlawns assisted in
carrying more than one boat down to the rushing waters of the Tennessee.
Once the boats were strung from shore to shore, it was no easy matter to
link them together, or to get the planking down even after they were
linked, but all hands worked bravely, despite the occasional shots from
the Confederate pickets fleeing from the neighborhood.
The Riverlawns crossed the bridge in safety, all but two men, a private
of the sixth company, who quickly swam his horse ashore, and Sandy Lyon.
Sandy had a spirited horse, and was advised to lead him over; but the
lieutenant insisted on riding, and when the middle of the bridge was
reached, his horse shied, and Sandy slid overboard like a flash. He went
down, to come up at a point fifty feet down the turbulent stream.
"Help! help!" he yelled, as soon as he could eject the water from his
mouth. "Some of you fellows haul me out!"
"Can't you swim?" asked several, unwilling to endure a wetting if it was
not necessary.
"I can't swim much--ain't swum in five years," came in a gasp, "and this
clothing weighs a ton!"
Artie Lyon had seen Sandy go overboard, and now he drew his uncle's
attention to the scene. Titus was very much excited on the instant.
"Save Sandy--save my boy!" he cried, and he tried to leap overboard, but
Artie hauled him back.
"You can't swim, can you?" asked the captain.
"No--but--I don't want Sandy to drown!" panted Titus Lyon. "I've lost
one son already in this war!"
"There is a boat--I'll get that and go after Sandy," answered Artie.
"You stay here;" and he motioned for two cavalrymen standing near to
hold Titus and thus prevent him from throwing himself into the rushing
element.
The boat was a flat-bottomed affair, owned by an old fisherman of
Caperton. The oars were handy, and Artie was soon on a seat in the
craft. As he pushed off Life Knox leaped in beside him.
"Reckon two rowers are better nor one," said the tall Kentuckian, and
without a word Artie tossed him an oar. Soon the boat was making good
headway down the stream in the direction in which Sandy's head could be
seen bobbing up and down.
"Help me!" he cried again. "I'm played out!"
"Keep up a little longer,--we are coming," replied Artie, encouragingly.
"I can't keep up--something is fast to my foo--" And the words ended in
a gurgle, as Sandy suddenly disappeared.
"Why, what can this mean?" asked the young captain. "Has he caught his
spurs into each other?"
"More than likely he got tangled up in one of those boat chains,"
remarked Life Knox. "I noticed the chains hanging around when the bridge
was put down."
"Then they'll take him to the bottom, sure," said Artie, and grew more
anxious than ever for his cousin's safety.
The disappearance of Sandy had been noticed from the bridge and from
both shores, and now several small boats put out. Titus Lyon broke away
from those who held him and went overboard with a loud splash, and two
minutes later a boat picked him up, more dead than alive.
When Artie and Life reached the spot where Sandy had disappeared,
nothing was to be seen of the young lieutenant, and a blank look seized
upon the faces of the would-be rescuers. Suddenly, however, the tall
Kentuckian gave a leap to the stern.
"There he is!" he shouted.
"Where?"
"Under water several feet. He is going down!"
As Life spoke he threw off his coat and hat, his boots followed,--in a
moment he slipped overboard.
The boat had now swung around with the current, and Artie had his hands
full bringing her up to the proper position and holding her there.
Artie's heart was in his throat. Poor Orly Lyon had been shot down in
battle, and now, if Sandy was also lost, what would his Uncle Titus and
his kind-hearted Aunt Susan do?
"Oh, I do hope Life brings him up!" he thought, when the head of the
Kentuckian appeared, dripping with water. Life supported Sandy in his
arms, and Artie brought the flatboat up close. In a moment Sandy was
laid on the seat and the captain of the seventh company clambered in.
The eyes of the lieutenant were closed, and Artie could not tell whether
he was dead or otherwise. "Is it--it all right?" he faltered.
"I hope so, Artie. He had his ankle caught in a chain just as I
supposed. It was hard work releasing him, I can tell you. Let us get to
shore just as fast as we can."
Artie needed no urging to do this, and soon the flatboat grounded on
the south bank of the river, and willing hands carried Sandy to a grassy
bank where he was rolled and worked over, until the water came out of
him, and he gave a gasp.
"He's all right now," said Life, drawing a long breath.
"Yes, and I'm mighty glad of it," murmured Artie.
Surgeon Farnwright then took charge of the case, but Sandy scarcely
needed him. By morning the lieutenant was as hearty as ever, although a
bit "shaky" as he expressed it.
"I won't forget you," he said, squeezing Life Knox's hand. "You're a
brick!"
Titus Lyon was even more affected. "I've lost Orly," he said, in a husky
voice, "I couldn't afford to lose Sandy, nohow. We ain't been very much
of friends in the past, Captain Knox, but I hope we will be in the
future--leas'wise, I'll be your friend, through thick and thin."
And the adjutant of the Riverlawns kept his word.