Part 9

"Although the rebels have for five days been removing their property, we came upon the town so suddenly yesterday that we captured a large amount of army property, five locomotives, a number of cars, and saved the mills, foundry, railroad works, hospitals, and other army buildings from burning.

"_September 3._

"I went yesterday to visit the prison where the rebels kept the Union men confined. It is a dirty, filthy, jail, hardly fit for the lowest criminals. I saw the room in which Parson Brownlow was confined. On the wall of it in large black letters is written,--'_Death to our persecutors._'

"When we came in on Tuesday the gallows was standing near the railroad, at the edge of the town, where the Union men were dragged from the jail and, contrary to all law and civilized warfare, hung like felons for faithfulness to their Government. You will find something of this in Brownlow's narrative. I rode over to see it as soon as I could on the morning after we arrived, and to place a guard over it, but some enraged soldiers and citizens had gone there before me and cut it down and burnt it. I was sorry, because it was in a prominent place and I wanted it preserved as a monument of the wickedness and cruelty of the persecutors of these people.

"We had this morning a fresh outbreak of patriotism. The news of the Federal occupation of the town had by last night spread into the adjoining counties, and the people flocked in from every direction. A large delegation of men and women of all ages formed in long procession (from Sevier County) and carrying the American flag, paraded through the town and out to camp, and the town again ran wild with patriotic joy. Men who had been hiding among the rocks and caves of the mountains, and who had not seen each other for years or since the rebellion broke out, stood grasping each other's hands beneath the folds of the old flag, while tears streamed down their cheeks. I have read of 'tears of joy,' but never saw so much of it as here.

"But General Burnside and the rest of the army will be in town this evening and I must get ready to receive them, so good-bye for the present."

In my letter of the 7th I gave an account of my first expedition out of Knoxville:--

"A day or two after his arrival General Burnside sent for me to say that he had received information which he thought was reliable to the effect that the rebels had left the railroad up as far as Bristol, on the Virginia line one hundred and thirty miles, in good condition and unguarded; that at Bristol there was a round-house and a great supply of locomotives and cars; and that it was very desirable to get possession of this rolling-stock, if possible. He proposed that I make up a train out of the rolling-stock I had captured on my occupation of Knoxville and go up the railroad as far as I could do so safely, and reach Bristol if possible.

"It was a new business for me to go a-soldiering on a railroad train, but I cheerfully undertook the expedition. I had to secure the engineer and brakemen out of my own command, as there were none others available. Putting three of the companies of the Sixty-fifth dismounted on the train, we started out early in the afternoon, hoping to get over a good part of the road before dark, but within ten miles of Knoxville we encountered a small bridge burnt, but with the tools we had brought with us some of our expert railroad men were able to arrange a temporary crossing for the train. It was nearly dark when we reached Strawberry Plains, only seventeen miles out, and here we stopped the train, as I had learned that the President of the railroad lived here, and he would probably be at home, as he had fled from Knoxville before our arrival. I took a small guard with me to his house, where I found him. I explained that our general had sent me on an expedition up his road toward the Virginia line, and as we had no one on the train who was familiar with the road, I should esteem it a great favor if he would accompany us. Seeing the situation with my armed guard, he accepted the invitation with the best grace possible, but as we moved off the ladies of the household set up a fearful wailing, beseeching me not to take him, as they felt sure he was going to his death, notwithstanding I assured them that no harm should come to him.

"After comfortably seating the President, I took post with the brigade bugler on top of a pile of wood on the locomotive tender, and the train moved off at slow speed in the darkness on the strange road, without a stop until we reached Jonesboro, ninety-eight miles from Knoxville, after midnight. Here our engineer, not being familiar with the switches, ran the fore wheels of his locomotive off the track. While a few of us dismounted to aid in getting on the track again, I discovered that another train was lying on the track with a lot of invalid Confederate soldiers, who told us the train had just arrived that evening from Richmond. About the same time we heard a great commotion in the town, with loud military commands indicating the presence of troops. It was very dark and we were strange to the locality, but I ordered out a platoon of soldiers, who fired a volley or two in the direction of the noise, which was followed by a great clatter of horses' hoofs. The next day, as we came back, the citizens told us that the rebel troopers could be seen in all directions flying away, some bareback, others without firearms or hats. It proved to be a detachment of Confederate cavalry stationed in the town.

"At Jonesboro we learned from the station employees that another train would be due from Richmond about eight o'clock in the morning. Thirteen miles above that place the railroad crossed the Watauga River, where there was a rebel blockhouse or fort protected by artillery, and which we learned was garrisoned. Our only hope of getting to Bristol was to capture the incoming train and rush our own train unawares into the fort and take the garrison by surprise. So after leaving a guard in charge of the train found at Jonesboro, we moved up quietly about day-break to the first station this side of the fort, surrounded the town with orders to allow no one to pass out, and we lay quietly in ambush waiting for the train. Sure enough, it came along on time and we were greatly elated. But just before it got within gunshot of our ambush, it whistled down the brakes, stopped, and instantly ran backwards at full speed and whistling into the fort. Some one had given them a warning signal, and the fort was at once notified of our presence. With that our expedition to Bristol came to an end. General Burnside had been misinformed. The railroad above Knoxville was not only guarded but was in use from Richmond.

"Our return journey was uneventful except that, as we neared Jonesboro, some of the soldiers we had scattered had quite dexterously loosened a rail and slightly displaced one end at a sharp curve in the road on a down grade, which tumbled our locomotive down an embankment and disabled it. Several of the soldiers were bruised and the railroad President got a few slight scratches on his face. Fortunately we had the captured locomotive, and with it we took all the cars back to Knoxville. Our return was on Sunday, and as the news of our passing up in the night had got noised about, the whole country turned out in gala dress and with flags to welcome us."

My next letter is from Greenville, seventy-four miles above Knoxville on the railroad, the home of Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of the United States. It is dated September 12:--

"I have my brigade at this place, as also the One Hundred and Third Ohio Infantry assigned to my command and stationed here as a provost guard. Generals Burnside and Hartsuff (corps commander) have been very pleasant and kind and are disposed to do everything they can for me. They promise to send me on an expedition by way of Bristol into Virginia to destroy the Salt Works, probably the most important movement left in East Tennessee. I am in very good health and spirits."

We were still at Greenville on September 16. My chief trouble seemed to be with the mails. I had not heard from home for nearly a month. I write my wife:--

"It has been so long since I have heard from you. How I would appreciate a letter to-day from my dear wife, telling me about our family affairs, that she was well, that our dear little children were well, giving me some of the sayings and doings of my little Alice, to have some news from Evansville and the families there. If it had not been that I had so very much to do and such great responsibilities resting upon me that kept me actively employed, I should have been lonely, indeed. When I go a-soldiering again I want it along a river or railroad so I can get some communication with the outer world _and my wife_.

"I am glad to assure you that in this long interval of suspense I have been in good health and I think discharging my duties to the entire satisfaction of my superior officers. I am very well satisfied at being ordered away from Henderson and placed in active service. It has given me a very prominent and choice command, and brought me in close contact with the commanding generals of the army. During the past three weeks I have been in close and intimate relationship with Generals Burnside and Hartsuff, and acting directly under their orders.

"We have been for a week at this place in front of an army of rebels at Jonesboro twenty miles above here, momentarily expecting an attack. I think that within a few days we will make a movement that will completely drive them out of Tennessee. If so you may expect to hear of the Second Brigade dashing away up onto the sacred soil of Virginia. I have a very good brigade of near three thousand effective men. For the present I am holding this position with my brigade and two regiments of infantry till General Burnside comes up with the army which is on the way. Several times a day I am called to the telegraph office for conversations over the wires with General Burnside on the situation at the front and he freely calls for my views as to movements. He is a very kind-hearted and pleasant gentleman, and willing to give every officer his full share of credit. I write thus freely to my wife of these matters because she will be interested to know them and to her it will not appear boasting or self-praise.

"I wish I had time to prepare a letter for the friends at home on the state of affairs in East Tennessee, and give a simple narrative of facts as to what the Union men have suffered. Such cruelty, such oppression, and heartless wrong has no parallel at least on this continent. It may have been equaled by the barbarians of Europe. No wonder that the people receive us with tears and perfect ecstasy of rejoicing and unbounded enthusiasm. The rejoicing and demonstrations I have witnessed will be probably the brightest of my reminiscences of the war. No wonder these people have wept tears of joy at the sight of the old flag, for it has brought to them freedom from a tyrannical oppression. It was the happiest epoch of my life to first carry that flag into Knoxville, and to bear it in the advance along up this valley for more than a hundred miles, and receive the welcome of the loyal people. And I hope in a few days to have the honor to say that we have driven the enemy entirely beyond the borders of the State.

"At our advance men have come to us all bleached and weak, who have been hiding in the rocks and caves and in pits away from the light of day for months. Men have been chased through the mountains for conscription in the rebel service, and a bounty offered for their arrest or death. Women have been driven from their homes, and their houses and their all were burnt before them, because their husbands were in the Union army. The scaffolds were to be seen where loyal men were hung for suspicion of bridge-burning without any trial whatever. The tales of cruelty and wrong which I have heard go to make up a history of tyranny which will be the blackest record of this slaveholders' rebellion.

"There is a valley over the line in North Carolina about twenty-five miles from this place, just under the shadow of the Great Smoky Mountains, almost shut out from the world. The valley along the creek is rich and inhabited by a bold but simple race of men. These men, partaking of the true spirit of the mountains, were true and unalterably attached to the Government, and no bribes or threats could induce them to go into the Southern army. There was but a small community of them and they were unanimous. When the conscripting officers came to take them into the army by force and the foragers to carry off their horses and provisions, they met them along the mountain-sides with their squirrel-rifles and drove them back; it was almost worth a Confederate officer's life to venture into the valley. Finally they sent a large force of cavalry and Indians among them and drove the mountaineers before them. They fled to their hiding-places and none of the men fit for military duty could be found. The cavalry gathered up all their horses and cattle. The women and children, old men and boys, were left at home, thinking them safe from conscription. The savage traitors drove the families from their houses and burnt them and everything in them. But this was not all. The old men, the women, and children were driven out of the valley and made to walk on foot over the mountains and down to Greenville. Old and prominent citizens of this place have told me that it was the most pitiable sight they ever beheld. A stout-hearted and manly citizen in talking to me about it could not restrain the tears, saying that he never related the circumstances without tears, because it brought the sight so vividly before him. Women came carrying children in their arms, with other little ones barefooted and almost naked clinging to their skirts. There were women of all ages and children driven like sheep before the soldiers. There were women in a most delicate situation who were made to walk with the rest; if the suffering were the greater the punishment was the more appropriate. They were brought to the railway station and kept over night, and it was the determination of General (called 'Mudwall' in contradistinction to 'Stonewall') Jackson in command here to send them over the Cumberland Mountains to Kentucky. Governor Vance of North Carolina heard of the brutal proceeding in time, and declared that women and children should not be banished from his State so long as he was its governor, and they were ordered to be returned.

"Since then these men of the Laurel Valley have been the wild men of the mountains. Their homes have been in the caves and cliffs of the rocks, and woe to the rebel soldier who came within range of their rifles. The most vigorous measures have been taken to ferret them out, but few of them have ever been caught, their hiding-places and their daring were a good protection. A company of them twice attempted to break through and cross the Cumberland Mountains to join the Union army in Kentucky, but were driven back before they could get out of East Tennessee. Day before yesterday a company of over fifty of these brave men came over from the mountains and asked me for help. An old man, who was the spokesman and the wise man of the valley, said they were a poor, ignorant, wild set of 'cusses' who didn't know much but devotion to the flag of their country and how to shoot. He asked me to give them a little good advice and _some guns_. I could not refuse the latter, at least. I gave them the arms and sent them home, and a merciful God will have to protect the savages who have murdered their fathers, plundered their farms, burnt their houses, and driven their wives and mothers from their homes, for these men with their muskets will not remember mercy.

"This is no fancy sketch or exaggerated story of the war. It is the plain, unvarnished truth, to be vouched for by hundreds of citizens of Greenville. Could you have believed that such atrocity could have been committed in the land of Washington? This same General Jackson is now in front of us, and I have been asking General Burnside for days to let my brigade after him, but he withholds for the present. It will not be many days before I shall try to capture him or drive him out of East Tennessee, I hope forever."

The expedition from which I had so greatly longed to drive out the rebel General Jackson, and which General Burnside had promised, did not come off. General Rosecrans had suffered a severe repulse at Chickamauga, and Burnside was ordered to give him what support he could. This brought all of Burnside's plans above Knoxville to a dead halt. Bragg's rebel cavalry was reported to have crossed the Tennessee River and was threatening Rosecrans's rear, and all of Burnside's cavalry was ordered to follow up Bragg's movement. My next letter was written at Knoxville, October 1, to which place I had come with my brigade. On arrival here I was still without letters from home. I had attempted to telegraph, but could get no replies. Apparently my disconsolate condition had worked upon General Burnside's sympathy, as he sent a telegram in his own name inquiring about the whereabouts and health of my wife, which soon brought an answer that she was at Evansville and "all well." How this news was received is told in the letter:--

"You can hardly imagine how gratifying it is to me to know to-night that my dear wife and children are well, from whom I am so far separated. I can go to-morrow to execute the orders of the general with much more alacrity that I now know that you are well and at home.

"Aside from its inaccessibility for the mails, I find East Tennessee a very pleasant country to be in. The Union people are very kind and friendly, the climate is very healthy, and the valley of East Tennessee one of the most beautiful in America. I tell the people here that if we can get peace again and they will abolish slavery, I would like very well to come and live with them. I have been very kindly and considerately treated by them. Being in the advance all the time, I have been the first to make their acquaintance, and they consequently know me better than others. I need not live in camp at all while about Knoxville. I have been here now four days and have had only one meal in camp. The society of the Union people of Knoxville is very pleasant and quite cultivated.

"But my visits to Knoxville are only pleasant episodes in my military life. Cavalry must be active. I am off again. The brigade left to-night for Loudon, starting at dark in a pitiless rain, and it has been raining ever since. General Burnside had me wait over here to-night that he might confer with General Shackelford and me as to my movements, and he will give me a special train in the morning for myself and staff. He has invited me to come in the morning and take breakfast with him, when the matter will be definitely settled and I will be off. Bragg's cavalry has crossed over to the north side of Tennessee River, threatening Rosecrans's rear and communications, and we must do something to checkmate them if possible. I have a good brigade and the general is disposed to give me work to do. General Shackelford commands our division now, and is very kind and partial to me."

My next letter was written from Knoxville October 4:--

"I wrote you three nights ago. Then my brigade had been ordered to Loudon, and I was only remaining behind to get the last and special instructions of the general before going myself, expecting to be off in the morning, but I am still here and my brigade at Loudon. Every few hours I have been expecting definite orders, and something transpires to prevent it. During the last few days I have been getting a pretty good insight into the inner workings of our military affairs. I have been in General Burnside's private room daily and frequently, in conference with him and other generals, and know something about the interference of Washington City.

"The plans were all laid, my guides were selected, the rations were all issued, my brigade was ready and waiting, and in a short time I was to be off on a grand raid into Georgia in rear of Bragg's army, tear up the railroad system of the State, and alarm the rebels generally, when orders were received from General Halleck that raids into Georgia are not now contemplated, and all that is stopped. Probably you will thank General Halleck for that. It may have made me a general. It may have run me into Libby Prison. But it was a great disappointment to me and I think to the general.

"I have seen more of General Burnside than any of our generals, and I regard him as one of the best of men, a pure patriot, a just man, and, I hope, a Christian. Let me give you an instance. Yesterday evening everything was ready for a general movement of his whole army. I telegraphed my brigade at Loudon to be ready to move at two o'clock this morning; the forces at Cumberland Gap were notified to be in readiness; it appeared a matter of importance that we should be off. I went up to his room last night to get my final instructions. The general said he believed we would wait a day, as he forgot about to-morrow being Sunday. He said he always felt a disinclination to commence a movement on Sunday, and he would not do it, unless he should learn during the night that it was very urgent. So to-day we have a quiet Sabbath, the only one since we left Kentucky. It is very pleasant to me and doubtless is to the whole army."

It turned out that Bragg's cavalry was not a severe menace to Rosecrans and my brigade was recalled from Loudon and we moved up into Virginia as a part of the general movement just indicated. In a fight near Bristol the Sixty-fifth Regiment lost four killed and thirteen wounded, and had another fight at Jonesboro, from which place the letter of October 18 is written:--

"We have just returned from a fatiguing march into Virginia. We have succeeded in driving the enemy away from Zollicoffer, having another fight at Blountsville, and destroying the Virginia Railroad for ten miles, but I have no time now to write about it. I have stood the last two weeks' campaign remarkably well and continue in the best of health. I enjoy the cavalry service very much, only lately we have had a little too much of a good thing. During the past five weeks we have been continuously on the march, with a number of sharp fights. But we have now a prospect of a few days' rest. If I get it I will improve it to write you a good long letter, but the enemy may interfere with my plans any day. This is likely to be our outpost station until Rosecrans and Bragg settle affairs below.

"How often and how much I desire to be at home with the dear ones and families of relations and friends. As we rode along through the mud and rain to-day I thought of home and what a pleasure it would be for me to be with you all at home. But I must content myself, believing I am in the line of duty and pray that a kind Providence may bring me home at an early day. I have always believed that God is doing his will and accomplishing his purposes of right and freedom in this war, and if I can be one of the instruments in his hands of accomplishing a portion of this work we should be content. Kisses in abundance to my darling little children. Does my little Alice talk much about her papa? Tell her he thinks all the time about her."

Extract from letter of October 25:--