Part 12
Sequatchie Valley, Ala., Wednesday, Nov. 18. Reveille sounded before dawn and we were ordered to prepare to march, but they knew not at what hour. All baggage that could be spared was ordered to be left with camp guard. The knapsacks were to be left, but as the cannoneers did not feel disposed to lose all of them as at Vicksburg, they all strapped them on their backs to "tote 'em". Failed to draw but one load of forage, so a vacant wagon was left and the knapsacks packed in, much to the satisfaction of all. Hitched up at 6 A. M. Marched on to the hill where the infantry were encamped. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades had started, leaving tents standing. We were in the rear and compelled to lie in the road until 2 P. M. In the meantime a large mail was distributed. I received four letters, all from home, which of course were very acceptable. Moved down to the river where our Division had been crossing all day on the pontoon. No more than four wagons allowed on at a time, hence a tedious job. 4 P. M. we moved on to it. It consists of a firm scow boat anchored every sixteen feet and stringers laid across, over which were laid twelve-foot plank. It was narrow and shaky, but a tight rein and careful driving brought us over all safe. Had to cross two of them, an island occupied by Hooker's men in the middle of the river. Men busy at work on R. R. bridge, but not near finished. Came to a halt two miles from the river and lay there over an hour to wait for the train to cross. Large fires were built and the infantry cooked their coffee in their little cans. It was quite dark before the bugle sounded and we marched on at a brisk rate till 9 P. M. Our road lay through the Sequatchie Valley, which was pretty well under cultivation, watered by a large stream coming out of the solid rock a few yards above us, one spring furnishing water enough to run a flouring mill. A large cave was close by, which is reported to be a curiosity, thirteen miles long, out of which saltpetre is dug, but I could not visit it. Unhitched our weary and hungry horses having had nothing but two quarts of corn all day, and but a scant feed last night. Made our bed in the open air and piled in supperless.
[Sidenote: 1863 Under Lookout]
Lookout Mountain, Tenn., Thursday, Nov. 19. Reveille woke us at 4 A. M. Slept cold. A heavy frost covers the ground this morning. Marched before the cooks got breakfast ready, so we had to take dry grub. Took the Chattanooga road and marched leisurely down, coming to the end of the valley; the mountains and the river coming together. Our road lay along the bank, and the R. R. several hundred feet above us, sometimes running over a precipice and then over stilty-like bridges. An engine ran by us here. We next left the river and soon entered the hills, winding through the valleys and crossing stony points, which was very slow and laborious as our horses were jaded out and hard to keep up. A few inhabitants were seen but they could not find much to live on. 4th Corps stationed through the valley as guards, each squad already located in neat "shebangs". Passed Sand Mountain at noon, a force being stationed upon it, the very high bridge having been destroyed near by and not yet commenced to be built. The R. R. is in bad condition and will require a good deal of labor before it will be rebuilt. A large part of it is laid with wooden rails, an iron plate fastened on top. Coal abounds in the hills. We passed a large bed of nitre, out of which saltpetre was manufactured for Confederate States' use.
Came in sight of Lookout Ridge about 4 P. M., and at sundown we were directly under the enemy's line, their picket fires burning brightly not more than half a mile off. Did they but have the artillery they could soon shell us out. The roads are very bad, filled with slough holes some of which were bridged. 8 P. M. halted nearly an hour to allow the pioneer corps to repair the roads. Most of the boys made coffee. Hard-tack very scarce. I had none since dinner. After the roads were fixed we moved out and marched about four miles right under the point of the guns which could not be brought to bear on us. We passed by Joe Hooker's headquarters. It was a very beautiful evening, bright moonlight, and pleasant marching. Came into camp at 11:30 P. M., our horses having nearly given out. When the wagons came up we fed horses and drew crackers, but I was not as hungry as sleepy, so I laid down in the open air with Point Lookout frowning in full view, on which is a battery of heavy guns that at any moment could hurl terror to our Corps.
WITH GRANT AT CHATTANOOGA
[Sidenote: 1863 A Night March]
Camp in the pocket opposite Chattanooga, Friday, Nov. 20. Scarcely had we closed our eyes to rest, before we were aroused again. Many of the boys had not laid down. It was half past one o'clock in the morning. We were ordered to hitch up in great haste. The rebs were crossing the Tennessee River at some point, and we were to intercept them. Nothing but a prospect of fight would have aroused the sleepy and tired soldiers as quick, and 2 A. M. we moved out, all wagons, battery wagon and forge left behind. It was clear and cold and I was chilled through by my sudden rising from a warm bed. We gradually disappeared from Point Lookout where the rebs' signal lights were dimly burning. The road was mostly corduroyed and very good, but some places not finished very badly cut. 1st caisson got stuck and it took nearly half an hour to extricate. The cannoneers in mud and slush above their knees. While they were getting out, the other boys took hold and completed the bridge.
As it drew near morning it became darker. Crossed the river on pontoon two miles from where we started. It started right under the rock and it was quite difficult to make the landing with six horses. 3rd Brigade's camp was on the bank. They had just started. Head of column took the road towards Chattanooga and obliged to come back as we left it to the right. 2nd caisson lost the road in the dark, ran against a stump and capsized. It took some time to extricate the horses and right it. It was loaded with percussion shells, but luckily none exploded. Infantry got the start of us and we drove very fast. Daylight found us travelling east through a very pretty valley formerly used as a camp. No infantry in sight. As smoke was seen in a pocket to the right, Lieutenant Clark halted, and sent to see if it was not our Brigade, which we found to be the case. We entered it, found the 3rd Brigade closely quartered. Went into park and ordered to remain quiet and orderly. Cooked an early breakfast, although we had travelled eight miles beside the other exploits. Wagons came up at 9 A. M. and we fed the last of our forage, four quarts of oats to a team.
The boys were soon scattered around making up for lost sleep, but I thought I would see our position, so I climbed the bluff to the right of us. Chattanooga could be seen very plain right opposite, near the other side of the river. To the right of it was Lookout, towering high above all others, with the puffs of powder smoke vomited occasionally from their Parrott. To the left I could see smoky Mission Ridge crossed with reb encampments. Those with glasses could discern long wagon trains and pack mules climbing up Lookout. I returned well-paid for my labor, although I afterwards understood it was forbidden. We are effectually hidden. Guards are placed over all houses to prevent anyone leaving. A pontoon train is passing. Heavy rain in afternoon. Put up tents and went to bed early.
Near Chattanooga, Saturday, Nov. 21. Awoke to find it had been raining very heavy all night. Our ditch overflowed and the water flowed into the tent under the bed wetting the blankets, making sleeping a troublesome matter anywhere. I got up, wrung my blankets and watched the rain. After breakfast harnessed our horses. As we have no feed they look very bad, indeed nearly all the halter stails on the rope were eaten off last night. I got a set of chain ones from the Battery wagon. Company cooks played out and rations issued to platoons. Boys all hail it gladly.
10 A. M. Two teams went to Chattanooga after forage. E. W. E. went on detail. Tried to write a letter, but it is so very cold that I made but little progress.
3 P. M. A circular has just been received from General Sherman to hold ourselves in readiness to march at any moment. Three days' cooked rations and one blanket is all that is to be taken along, the ambulances to follow to the river and there await orders. The enemy have been playing from Lookout all day and it is told that sharp musketry is going on, but that general engagement will probably not come off until we cross the river, which it is said we will do to-night if the rain will not sweep off our pontoon. The crisis is fast approaching and it cannot be long ere we meet in deadly contest; of the final result I have but little doubt. I am confident in the ability of those contesting for the right. But alas! many must of necessity close their eyes in death. It is not for me to ask whom or when, but to trust to Him that noticeth the fall of a sparrow, and endeavor to do my duty. I pray that strength may be given me to meet my fate with courage.
8 P. M. It is night. The teams have returned without any feed. They met M. L. Smith's Division on the bridge and they could not cross. Three sacks of grain was got at Division headquarters which gave us a small feed. Wagon went to draw rations at the commissary but could not get any. I have written a letter home and will now lie down and sleep with an easy mind until called upon. I am ready when the word comes.
[Sidenote: 1863 Awaiting Battle]
Near Chattanooga, Sunday, Nov. 22. Awoke to find a bright and beautiful morning and the air was as balmy as a May morning in Wisconsin. Did not rain as expected and no indications of it in particular. Preaching announced at 10 A. M. by the Chaplain of the 18th Wisconsin. I thought it was more my duty to write to anxious hearts than attend. Wrote one to sister Hannah and commenced one to brother Thomas, but was called on guard before finishing it. Sherman's chief of artillery went with Captain Dillon to pick out a road for battery.
3 P. M. Before I came off guard we endeavored to pack everything except our blankets and stow them away. Soon ordered to take up our horses, (which were browsing) clean them off and harness up. Our valises were taken off and blankets strapped instead.
5 P. M. Cogswell's Battery started out and we soon followed, 12th in the rear. Lieutenant Hubbard of the 3rd Battery came to camp as we left, and I shook hands with him as I drove by. Professor Silsby is also here with his Heavy Battery direct from the State, but I did not see him. Moved toward the river, passed the pontoon train and halted near the river out of sight of the enemy. Unhitched and unharnessed, and ordered to lie down with no noise, no fires to be built.
It is now eight o'clock and I am on post. I write by the light of the moon. The Heavy Battery and the 12th are busy at work throwing up earthworks. We are to be thrown across with the first infantry that goes. It is expected by all that it is going to be hot and terrible work. My blood is cold as I contemplate the bloodshed.
Near Chattanooga, Monday, Nov. 23. I had just completed writing last night when an officer rode up (Sherman's staff) and inquired for the commanding officers. The boys were immediately called up, harnessed up and returned to camp. The upper pontoon broke so as to prevent the 4th and 1st Divisions of the Corps from crossing the river, which rendered it necessary to postpone it for twenty-four hours. Arrived at camp and pitched our tents. This morning cloudy and smoky, indications of rain. Ewing's Battery passed towards the river. Eight batteries passed by last night. Had we crossed this morning, they would all have met on the other side, which would be undoubtedly a lively time. Morgan L. Smith was to cross above us and form his line, meeting on Chickamauga Creek, and our left on it. The infantry drew shovels last night and were ordered to take possession of the heights and then fortify. A team sent to headquarters at 7 A. M. to go to Kelly's Bend for forage. One sent yesterday evening. Neither of them yet returned. Completed my letter to Thomas.
3 P. M. Heavy volleys of musketry are heard in the direction of Chattanooga, which is said by a correspondent passing by to be a reconnoitering party to ascertain if they are evacuating, which is supposed to be the case. But I don't credit it.
[Sidenote: 1863 The "Battle in the Clouds"]
5 P. M. A fierce engagement is in progress. Since my last writing the well-timed volleys soon grew into a continual rattle, and the cannonading fell heavy and fast. I climbed the bluff as soon as possible to take a better view. Here I found the summit covered with spectators, and every tree loaded as with grapes. The lines most of the time were enveloped in smoke, and we could not discern which were the gainers. The firing commenced well on to the right in the rear of Chattanooga, but fast crossed over toward the left. The artillery's roar, reverberating through the valleys and from mountains, made a deep and impressive sound as though the whole country was in convulsion. From Lookout the heaviest guns were fired. The flash could be seen as it vomited its load of destruction twenty-two seconds before the report arrived, and its echo was answered by half a dozen smaller guns from Moccasin Point in quick succession; but it was so much lower I do not think it was of much effect. Two distinct charges were made (I know not by which party) and the musketry fire unceasing, and heavy columns of fresh smoke arose, a pall for those departed to their eternal rest. As I sat upon the brow of that eminence I could think of the many groans that were now uttered on the field of strife, where friend and foe lay as an equal in the gore of their own blood, while many more lay with the ghastliness of death upon their features, that but a few hours before beamed with life and animation, and whose hearts melted with love and hopes in the future. Sad! sad! But it does not stop here. How many hearts will bleed. How many mothers' hearts will be heavy in anguish when the news will reach them of the fate of their offspring and object of their care and love. How little is this realized by the crowd surrounding. Their thoughts are light and trifling; they think not of death or futurity. Removed from all destruction, accustomed to look at death as of minor importance, they feel not the due importance. But such is war. Although a soldier and inured to meet the foe with determination and calmness, I must say, Oh what a cruel and wicked thing is war! A deer ran along the mountain and the attention of the masses was drawn from the conflict and gleefully passed to the animal. This was not in keeping with the state of my mind, and I left and returned to my tent, the musketry having nearly ceased.
Mission Ridge, Tenn., Tuesday, Nov. 24. Marched to our position of night before last, unhitched and unharnessed. Laid down till 1 A. M. when we were awakened and ordered to hitch up. No noise allowed to be made. The pontooners marched by on quick time with axes, etc. Cogswell's Battery moved out and took position in the front. We soon followed in breathless silence, entered an open field and followed it up nearly half a mile, when we came upon the column of infantry moving along in close order and very fast. Not a breath could be heard, nothing but the grating of their feet on the gravel was to be heard. Never did a more earnest or thoughtful column move to meet the enemy. The column proceeded to the river, and we went into battery in the field thirty rods from the bank. The infantry were ferried across in the pontoon boats. One division was already across. Contrary to all expectations not a gun was fired, and we could hear nothing from our position of the advancing column. The out-post guard were gobbled up by surprise and sent over on this side. One escaped and carried the alarm that the Yankees were coming, which was not believed. But the officer of the day with seventeen men reconnoitered the grounds, and they too were "taken in out of the wet" and taken across and put in charge of the guard of the 5th Wisconsin Battery, they being stationed in a bastion on the bank. The out-post very innocently told the story that upon hearing a rustle in the brush which he challenged with a "'Halt! Hush you d---- fool you, the Yankees are right here upon us.' The fust thing I knew you 'uns hed me." While our Division was crossing, long trains of pontoons came up there with a long line of snow-white ambulances which caused the anxious question--"Who will be obliged to be borne in these from the field of battle?" Then came the hospital train, a wagon for each regiment in the Division, loaded with stores to establish a Division hospital.
[Sidenote: 1863 Line to Line]
6 A. M. Two divisions were safely across and a more beautiful scene I never witnessed. Through the gray dawn a long line of infantry could be seen drawn up on the opposite banks a mile long, while the waters were covered with boats busily going and coming, loaded with men, the regimental colors standing in the center of the boat. The bridge was now covered, boats brought up, anchored in line, and the floor laid without any delay, the 4th Division marching in the boats and the artillery covering the field. Fires were allowed to be built now and we soon had coffee. It commenced raining, as cold and disagreeable as the day could be. A steamboat was due at 4 A. M. to take us across, but did not come till 6:30 A. M. (an old rebel boat, but rebuilt). Taylor's Battery crossed the river first, and as we were not pressed we waited for the bridge to be built. It was very disagreeable, and I felt almost sick; late hours and irregular meals having brought on diarrhea, etc. A large constellation of stars were gathered on the bank, watching the progress of the bridge, among which were Sherman, Blair, W. F. Smith, chief engineer, etc. The line on the other side in one hour had a line of breastworks up and advanced out of sight to form another.
12 M. The bridge completed and we crossed it, being the second battery to do so. The dread of crossing had passed. Halted at a corn crib and the cannoneers got as much corn as they could, but the infantry was formed and advanced in column of division at secure arms, it raining very heavy. This savage-looking column moved forward with caution, crossed a forty-acre lot and halted. The skirmishers went out but not a gun was fired. Advanced again, the batteries were in column of sections. An occasional gun shot, but we advanced until we were directly under Mission Ridge. Not a reb seen and our infantry soon climbed it. Our line formed on the brow when the artillery moved up. Battery D, 1st Missouri was the first up and soon opened fire on them from the right. Our Battery started for the left. The "smooth bores" were left on the other side of the river for want of horses, and we had four teams on a carriage, but the hill was too steep for us and two more teams were put on the pieces, and caissons left behind. A detail of two hundred men were sent to our aid with axes, the enemy sending shells over us quite thick. 1st piece failed to advance with the horses. Ropes brought forward and it was hauled up by hand, we following with all haste. By this time a very brisk skirmishing was going on right to our left and rear quite close, and General Matthies came down at the head of his Brigade on double quick, the old general on foot, making fine time. Captain Dillon ordered the howitzer section and Cogswell's Battery to the rear in all haste. The extra teams were unhitched and the pieces unlimbered, and with great difficulty we made a left about, the hill being so steep that it shoved our horses down amongst the infantry that were pouring down. But the cannoneers fastened a rope to the axle-tree, and down we went in good earnest. Halted at the R. R. crossing in a complete jam of infantry, artillery and ambulances near General Smith's headquarters, who knew nothing of our movements and demanded by whose orders we came down. A flank movement by General Longstreet was apprehended, and we were to guard it by order of General Sherman. We stood there in the cold damp evening for half an hour, got a feed of shelled corn from an out-house close by, when we moved back into the first field above General Matthies, and came into camp alongside of Cogswell's Battery and the 2nd and 3rd Brigades of our Division. Unhitched but did not unharness. Our rations were entirely out with the exception of coffee and some cornmeal picked up, so we ate hastily of unsifted mush and coffee.
Three drivers from each piece sent after sheaf oats for horses. I was on the detail and we rode back nearly three miles toward the river. Found the oats all gone, but plenty of good tame hay, of which we took as much as possible. Returned to camp by 9 P. M. I was nearly exhausted from cold and loss of sleep, having been up since 1 A. M. Lay down in cold and wet blankets.
[Sidenote: 1863 Mission Ridge]
Mission Ridge, Wednesday, Nov. 25. Called up before three in the morning to feed. Suffered very much from cold during the night. The blankets stiff with frost over us. Witnessed an almost total eclipse of the moon and again lay down, but no sleep.
6 A. M. McCook's Brigade of Davis's Division formed in line of battle facing to the left and supporting our artillery, should it be necessary. 1st Section (rifles) reported to be well fortified on the ridge.
9 A. M. Not much fighting as yet, the pickets advancing and skirmishing. A reb battery shells directly over and in rear. One shell twelve-pounder time-fuse dropped ahead of our team and was dug up by the boys. A mule team came up and issued one day's rations of hard-tack.
11 A. M. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades went in on double quick followed by the 11th Corps with crescents flying, a fine looking body of men, but are looked on rather suspiciously by our sturdy veterans. They went in and advanced towards the rebels' works on Tunnel Hill, and musketry rattled very severe.
From that time [till] late in the evening a terrible struggle followed, wounded men coming back thick and fast. Our position was such that we could not witness the field and we were not permitted to leave the teams an instant. Our loss is very heavy especially in officers. The struggle on our side was for the occupation of Tunnel Hill and our line advanced up the steep side of the bluff time after time, but were obliged to fall back, the rebels being reinforced all the time, and could pick them off with ease, the lay of the land being such that they succeeded in flanking the 11th Corps, and they fell back in disorder. But they were received by the 2nd and 3rd Brigade of our Division, and soon compelled to retire.