Part 13
More desperate fighting, it is said by those who witnessed, they had never seen. Our line being for hours under the enemy they rolled stones upon us, wounding many. Three companies of the 5th Iowa were taken prisoners, having used up all their ammunition and would not run. Artillery could not be brought to much use, and my feelings as I staid under that hill, listening to the noise and rattle of the fight, mingled with suppressed cheers of charging parties, and the groans of the wounded as they passed in the long trains of ambulances, or the lighter wounded hobbling back afoot with bleeding and mangled limbs, I cannot describe in words. General Matthies was wounded in the head while leading his Brigade on to the charge. I saw him ride to the rear covered with blood. Colonel Putnam of the 93rd Illinois was killed instantly while waving the colors in front of his men, a noble and much loved officer. The 90th Illinois and 73rd Pennsylvania were literally cut to pieces, and their officers all killed or wounded.
The day closed, and the dark mantle of night was spread over the gory fields. We have gained nothing in the shape of ground all day, but their slaughter must be terrible. Thomas and Hooker were at them all day and it is reported gained great advantage. We had to fight the main body of the army. Lookout was taken yesterday, 2500 prisoners and three pieces of artillery. To-morrow if they stand, will be a final and awful test of strength. Sherman, cool and deliberate, is ready for them. Got corn to feed on the battle-field.
Mission Ridge, Thursday, Nov. 26. After we retired last night with horses unharnessed, a courier came in hot haste with the report "The enemy is coming down upon us in double columns". We were ready to give them a warm reception on short notice, but they did not come, and again we laid down, but left the harness on. _They will not catch us napping._ It was a chilly, cold night and we suffered much from cold bed. But little rest during the night, and at 3 A. M. we were called up to feed, which was more of a relief than otherwise. But no man grumbled or complained as we thought of our wounded who lay on the field all night with no covering, and weak from the loss of blood. Their groans could be heard by our men all night, and the friends in rebellion would not permit them to carry relief to them or bring them in. The enemy occupied the contested ground. One, who had a brother lying on the field, started with the determination of relieving him or die in the attempt. True to his determination he was shot dead by the inhuman wretches who would not listen to his plea. Their punishment will be great.
[Sidenote: 1863 Flight of Bragg]
A dense fog settled as the morning approached, so that it was impossible to discern objects two rods distant. Troops commenced pouring down the hill early. The 1st Section joined us. At first we thought it was maneuvering for the day's battle, but the truth was soon known. The wounded pelican of the South had flown during the night, and all their boasts and threats of the re-occupation of East Tennessee has ended in a retreat. We were to go on the chase. The 11th Corps swung around on their rear and flanked their line of retreat, while the 15th Corps reached back to the Tennessee River, and crossed Chickamauga Creek on the pontoon. Halted on the bank two hours to give the advance time to cross. Grazed our horses. 10 A. M. we crossed the bridge in rear of the 1st Brigade. The infantry moved more still and quiet than usual. Thus they come but miss their comrades that fell in yesterday's engagement. Our Division lost * * * killed and wounded. A marked change is to be seen in its ranks. Marched lively the rest of the day through the Chickamauga Valley. The troops were entirely out of rations, the infantry many of them having had nothing to eat but parched corn on which they fought for two days and intrenched by night with pick and spade. Halted at 5. P. M. an hour for supper. Shelled corn was got in plenty for horses from Secesh camp, but the boys many of them supped on corn and coffee. Artillery firing could be heard in the distance which told us that we were upon their rear.
Moved on till 9 P. M. through Chickamauga Station, where large piles of corn were in a blaze. Twelve thousand bushels of corn are said to be burned here, and a large quantity of cornmeal left of which we were lucky enough to get a good supply. The road for miles was white with meal, spilled as they ran. Caisson bodies left and several blown up. Took twenty-one howitzer shells from one of them into our chests. Came into camp in an open field in rear of the 11th Corps. Made our beds in the leaves and slept sweet till morning light.
Graysville, Ga., Friday, Nov. 27. Started at 8 A. M. Our march lay through a poor country, thinly settled, covered with small pine, swampy soil. All along the road evidence could be seen of the haste of the enemy. Wagons, limbers, wheels, harness, etc. left, but all were destroyed. Reached Graysville at 3 P. M. and came into camp on a steep hillside, a lively little R. R. station on Chickamauga Creek, good water power, cabinet works and flouring mill. The latter was kept running by soldiers of the 11th Corps. A range of mountains commenced here, and our advance came upon the rear of the enemy here this morning, capturing a battery commanded by Beauregard's son. It was harnessed up and ready to move. General Thomas manned it with infantry, took it after them. A brisk fight could be heard at Ringgold, five miles distant. Prisoners and deserters came in thick and fast from every direction. They say they are tired of running and being hunted like beasts. Bragg promised victory and gain to them, instead of which they received nothing but a dastardly retreat and shame with empty bellies.
Foragers doing a good business in the shape of geese, chickens, sheep, etc., few hogs. I was sent by Dixon after hay for the horses. Went about two miles south, and returned with a good bundle, quite tired in carrying it, but horses fared well for it.
Sat up till late cooking "dodgers" for the morrow's march. It looked like rain, so we ditched about our bed, spread our ponchos over and laid down, tired and sleepy, and I felt nearly worn out, but the thought of following a retreating line kept up my strength and spirit.
[Sidenote: 1863 After Bragg]
Near Chattanooga, Saturday, Nov. 28. Reveille aroused the dreaming camp at 3 A. M. It had been raining nearly all night, but we slept dry and well. Feed call. One of my horses missing. Walked up and down the hills and hollows for over an hour in the search. At last found him. I found breakfast ready, consisting of coffee, corn cake and fresh mutton, which I devoured with a keen appetite. 5 A. M. we started. We were to go back, and faced in that direction. We were glad of it, as both we and the horses were too much worn out to follow, and the roads were getting very bad with the rain and lateness of the season. The excitement was much less. We marched with more labor than if following the enemy, but we knew that plenty of others were on their track, and Bragg's forces scattered, he taking three different roads, showing that he did not intend to risk a general engagement with Grant very soon. Raining heavy all day. The roads very bad and we had much trouble to get along with artillery. All of the batteries of the 15th Corps not in marching condition. Returned with the 3rd Division in charge of Captain Dillon, which were five besides our own. Stopped at Chickamauga Station at noon to feed, gathering corn along the railroad where hundreds of bushels had been scattered by the rebs.
Reached the pontoon bridge over Chickamauga half an hour of sundown. After a long delay it was clear and we crossed. Met General Sheridan and his Division followed by two others, going to relieve Burnside. Came to our old camp before the battle, after night. The rain had ceased and it turned very cold, and the wind whistled as of old Wisconsin. Unhitched, unharnessed, cleaned off my muddy team, and then with a great deal of chattering and shivering, etc. pitched tents, made our bed on the muddy wet ground. Felt very much like eating a good home supper as prepared by Mary, but after waiting a long time it was substituted by a dish of mush and a cup of coffee and thankful for that. Many of the infantry had nothing but parched corn and no tents, no rails to make a fire; rather tough but I suppose it is honest.
Near Chattanooga, Sunday, Nov. 29. Slept very cold, or rather shivered through the night with little sleep. This morning it is still very cold. Froze quite hard last night. Harnessed the team and "snaked" some firewood, banked our tent, etc. Gathered leaves in them so we were a little better prepared for it. Tried to write home, but my fingers were so numb that I gave it up much to my dissatisfaction, as I know they are anxious for my having not written any since the battle.
Near Chattanooga, Monday, Nov. 30. Cold during the night but comfortable at midday. Wrote a letter to John, signed pay rolls in the afternoon. It is expected we will move soon. Hope it is so as our infantry are in a suffering condition, their tents at Bridgeport and their blankets, many of them, lost on the battle-field. They are scattered through the valley seeking shelter from friendly cliffs, drawing comfort from glowing fires, and trusting fate and fortune for rations, as Uncle Sam fails this time. But hope it will not be so long.
[Sidenote: 1863 The Flag]
Near Chattanooga, Tuesday, Dec. 1. Health good and fine appetite for dodgers, which is all we have, minus salt and extras. Warning given in camp to avoid smallpox. Case in the 12th Battery carried out to the woods this morning. Commenced writing to brother Thomas but interrupted to hitch up for review. Most of the mule teams were required to help us out, and moved out "in fine style". Formed line on the extreme right of the Division under direction of Captain Dillon. He tried to show off a little by ordering a "trot", but came very nearly showing a failure. The men were ragged, dirty and worn out, so were the beasts, but the fine line of stripes and stars looked as beautiful as ever, intermingled with the blue banners. It is a soldier's privilege to look at it as a friend and boon companion, "may it ever wave".
Soon the inspectors came. The first one was Major General Hunter, inspector general, glittering with military pomp and gaudy tassels, etc. I did not like his appearance. He wore a sandy mustache, and looked as though he might be forty-five years old. He was followed by the modest unassuming Grant, dressed in plain blue, no glitter or decorations except the small stars on his deserving shoulders. He looked much poorer and worse than when I last saw him. By his side was General Smith, surly as ever, and General Meigs alongside of the "war dog" Logan, who it is said is now in command of the 15th Corps. The bands sounded the cheers as they passed, which filled the narrow valley with echo. They passed and the line marched to their encampment.
Near Chattanooga, Wednesday, Dec. 2. Horses fed, cleaned, etc. I commenced writing on letter commenced yesterday, but was again disturbed with orders to hitch up as we were to turn the battery over, horses, harness and all to Chattanooga. Very good news, and therefore promptly obeyed. Took the six pieces and caissons, leaving the battery wagon and forge. The town was farther than I expected, about three miles. Crossed the river on the pontoon bridge (simple but invaluable invention, this pontoon), a "flying ferry" running right above it and well used. It is a novel arrangement, in which the boat is crossed by the strength of the current acting against gates let into the water, it being fastened to a tow-head above by forty rods of rope. After some delay we parked the old battery that we had hauled through the mud of Mississippi, across the bayous of Louisiana and the mountains of Tennessee, and had belched our terror to traitors from Corinth, Raymond, Jackson, Champion Hills, Vicksburg and Chattanooga. Although once wrested from our hands for an instant, success always crowned their labors. We left them alongside of a long line of captured napoleons.
The town was under strict military order, and patrols busy picking up all those found without a pass, so I did not have a chance of going around. Had a strong desire to visit Lieutenant J. Silsby's Battery, but I could not. Returned to camp by 5 P. M. Wrote on T. L.'s letter till dark, when we were assembled for pay at the Captain's tent, it being for the months of September and October. Clothing accounts settled. I was $12.86 behind, therefore did not draw but $19.15, better than some who did not draw any. Turned $15 over to J. Lester, to be expressed home, leaving me but two dollars pocket money.
IN WINTER QUARTERS
[Sidenote: 1863 Scant Rations]
Enroute, Thursday, Dec. 3. Moved for Bridgeport, Ala., 7 A. M. All the serviceable horses reported to Lieutenant Harlow of the 12th Battery and were put in the teams. E. P. Dixon took "Reb" for a saddle horse, giving me a pony instead, which exempted my team. Emptied my valise into E. W. E.'s knapsack. My blanket on saddle, Evie's blanket in valise, saddle by my side, and we started in rear of 12th Battery. Double quicked it for the first two miles after which we came into muddy roads and moved slow. Walked about seven miles, taking railroad. Had to wait three or four hours for Battery to come up at South Sides coal mines. A steep stony hill ahead of us, and a long wagon train loaded with artillery horses stuck on it. The Battery did not get started until after sundown. The horses were entirely jaded out, no feed and hard work. Nearly every piece stalled and obliged to double teams. Tired of waiting and standing in the mud, cold and cheerless we pushed on through the brush until we reached the valley below. We unharnessed and tied to the trees our faithful but hungry steeds, scraped our haversacks for the last crumb, after which we laid down all alone and no "grub" for the morrow, but it worried not our lives.
Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 4. Awoke at dawn, the ground was white with frost and blankets stiff, although we slept warm. The 12th Battery succeeded in getting over some time during the night. "Ned" gone from the tree. I started in search walking brisk for an hour over the hills and high brush to no avail. Found our boys in squads by fires, having suffered severely during the night. Most of them had no blankets. Returned. Evie started and soon returned astride a fine specimen in the shape of a "sorrel crowbait", mane and tail closely shaven and points very prominent; but he could carry the harness, so he would do. No signs of moving with the batteries. We have nothing to eat, and by this time quite hungry, which induced us to push on in an independent squad. Two miles out found "Ned" standing innocently at a fire, held by an infantry man. Of course I traded. Passed the 1st and 2nd Brigade in camp, also the Division headquarters. Found grain on roadside near Whiteside. Halted to let horses eat. Passed by General Smith and Brigade. Captain Dillon halted and spoke gruffly to us, but finally rode on, and we followed after him. Made serious attempts to buy cornbread of citizens or hard-tack from trains going to the front, but failed. Joined by D. J. Davis, E. F. Hayes and W. H. H. Booth. We journeyed on together.
The sun was very warm, the frozen ground converted into mud. I was afoot. Noon came and hunger became more pointed. We halted to rest in sight of a camp, a brigade in winter quarters. "Council of war" held and the following program determined upon. E. W. E. and E. F. Hayes were to take the horses and go to the above-mentioned camp and procure something to eat regardless of expense, while we went to "Mica Jack Cave" to await their return. Visited this stupendous piece of God's handiwork and proceeded into it as far as daylight would show us the way. A truly impressive scene, solid rock under one's feet, pure crystal water trickling down its walls, streams fell from above on * * * of rock, which by constant trickling were now smooth and symmetrical. On all sides long ranges of leeches were arranged for saltpetre works. The earth out of which it was obtained was brought from the entrance of the cave, the best of it five miles, in large vats at the mouth for boiling it down. At length the boys came, having succeeded to a charm, as they had a box of condemned crackers thrown aside (being mouldy) out of which they filled their haversacks, and which to us tasted sweeter than honey. We ate heartily and thankfully of these musty crackers and water from the cave, after which I felt much stronger.
Seven miles to Bridgeport, which we made easily by 4 P. M. Endeavored to buy our supper, but the hungry boys of the 1st and 2nd Brigades had cleared the town. Waited until after night for the arrival of the rest of the boys, as we hoped they would have rations, but as they did not appear, D. J. D., E. W. E. and myself started in search of camping ground. It was very dark and we wandered across the large flat covered with logs, stumps and rifle pits in search of the camp of the 3rd Division, from one camp fire to another, until at last we found the train loaded with crackers. Dan succeeded in filling his haversack with crackers from behind a wagon. Honest for a hungry man. Built a large fire by a dead tree, made our bed in the leaves, and after eating a few dry crackers, retired for the night, tired and rather lonesome.
Bridgeport, Saturday, Dec. 5. Had a fine night's rest, also a fine breakfast of fried crackers and coffee. Evie borrowed the pan, I begged the salt, Dan the coffee, after which went up town, gathered waste grain and fed the famished horses. Ate a pie and water. 10 A. M. the batteries came in, having been obliged to leave their ammunition chest behind, and hard work to come at that. Eight of our horses died on the road. The road is lined on all sides with the dead horses and mules, having died of starvation. Went into camp east of town. Tents came in 3 P. M. Full rations for man and beast. Night found us comfortably quartered and "happy as lambs", infantry singing "Rally, boys, rally" etc. They have just passed through a hard trip, no tents, got scant rations, and were half famished by the time they got here, but there was no grumbling or lagging, each marching cheerfully, parching his corn in the ashes, as corn is stuff to keep up strength; but such boys are invincible while on the field, as on the march, alike jolly and contented.
[Sidenote: 1863 A Quiet Sunday]
Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 6. A beautiful Sabbath day. Air soft and balmy, camp remarkably quiet and still. Two large mails received, I the happy recipient of eight letters. Spent most of the day in writing a letter commenced the 1st to T. L., such is the difficulty of letter-writing in the army. Felt tired and worn out indeed and slept considerable of the day. Osterhaus's Division came in and went into camp on our left.
Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 7. Changed, washed, etc. in the forenoon. Wrote home in afternoon. All quiet in and around camp. Various rumors afloat as to our final destination for the winter. Generally supposed we are to open the road to Corinth. Fine weather for this time of the year.
Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 8. A cold rainy day, very disagreeable in camp; naturally thought much of home and its comforts. But we looked forward to the happy time coming when we will be permitted to join the circle on the old hearthstone and know war no more. May the day soon come. I am not impatient but anxious.
Bridgeport, Wednesday, Dec. 9. Rain ceased, sun appeared and the deep slushy mud soon dried up. After dinner I was detailed to help take horses to turn them over with Lieutenant Simpson. Took thirty-eight horses and three mules, crossed the bridge on to the island, and had to go up stream two miles to the corral. Its presence was manifested by the stench from far off from the carrion of the dead. They filled for acres the woods to a number almost incredible, starved to death. The corral-master was an old-looking man. We found him in an isolated clapboard house with only two or three inhabitants. He must enjoy the life of a hermit. The corral was a field of ten acres containing three thousand to four thousand head of mules and horses, all much pulled down for want of feed. It was sundown before we turned them over. Had three miles of bad road to camp. Walked it through the dark, lost our track several times. Found a good supper of fried beef and biscuit awaiting us. Spent evening in Griff's tent listening to music of flute and vocal as discoursed by Byness, Parker, etc.
Bridgeport, Thursday, Dec. 10. Sun so hot as to be quite warm. Much like a spring day in Wisconsin. Everybody lively and full of fun, troubled with nothing but "nothing to do", which to me is a serious cup. Gambling among the indulging ones quite brisk. Watches and pens raffled for, etc. A chuckluck doing big business was surprised by a guard in Osterhaus's camp this afternoon and the boys taken to the headquarters of the Division under guard. The idleness and monotony of camp is fearfully demoralizing to many, and inevitably leads to the gaming table if indulged in.
Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 11. A most beautiful and delightful day, and all the boys merry and light-hearted as larks. It was expected last night that we should march to-day, but instead we policed camp. Our officers are making a sudden effort toward strict discipline so long neglected, that it is properly called "putting on style" now. C---- put on a day's extra duty under guard by order of Captain ----, more to glut vengeance than justice, I am afraid. Men put on extra duty for not attending roll-call.
[Sidenote: 1863 "Honest Abe"]
Bridgeport, Saturday, Dec. 12. A misty morning which broke into rain, which drizzled all day, enough to make it sun-less and disagreeable outside and chilly in tent for want of fire. Read "Honest Abe's" Message, which in my estimation is true and honest, every word. The _old_ Democrats in camp would like to criticize, but can't find much fault. It is hard to put away party prejudices. Small mail arrived, but none for me.
Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 13. The heavy rain of yesterday and last night still continued, and in the afternoon it rained much heavier with strong wind which drove it through the tents, rendering everything wet and uncomfortable. Wrote an imperfect letter to Sister Ellen in A. M. The remainder of the day spent in reading _Gleason's Companion_ which I luckily hit on. Comrades in tent playing "poker" all day "for fun". Laid down at night in wet blankets and aching bones.
Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 14. Woke up last night to find myself "shaking" at double quick. Shook for nearly an hour and a half as hard and fast as ever, after which a burning fever came on and continued all night. Did not get up to roll call, but watered my horses, after which I was called on guard, the 2nd relief, guarding C----. Cold and windy, rain cleared off. Many of the boys raising their tents, walling them with logs, building chimneys, etc. At night C---- was allowed to go to his tent, so I was relieved from guard. The evening seemed very long with nothing to do or read.
Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 15. Quite cold in the morning but sun soon appeared and warmed up the air as well as the soldiers' heart. Intended to "fix up" our tent but failed to procure team, so we washed in the forenoon, built a fire in the woods, it resounding on all sides with the axes of the soldiers felling trees, etc., as if it was a chopping bee in the backwoods.
P. M. Wrote a letter to sister. Sewed and darned. The day passed quickly and pleasantly. No mail, though much looked for.