ftftv ■ fpcw.:: ■■HHb HmmHS ■HyuuiES Hi 2WJ Iiir-.i'';, 4£;: M >v;rj.f,r;r{/ PRICE, 25 CENTS. ANDERSON, PUBLISHERS, KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN •te^Va Storage CfcBIec + BATTLE-FIELDS REVISITED, Grant's Chattanooga Campaign, A Horseback Ride from Chatta- nooga to Atlanta, BY COMRADE C, 0, BROWN KALAMAZOO, MICH.: EATON <& ANDERSON. .1888, Fxis "if Copyright 1886. Eaton & Anderson. eppefkee. The following pages were originally addressed to the Kalamazoo Daily Telegraph in the form of newspaper correspondence. "Written hastily on the journey — sometimes beneath an inviting tree, or in a fence corner by the roadside, sometimes in the deserted forts or trenches themselves — publi- cation in book form was the last thing that the writer dreamed of. He was on a vacation trip, tramping and " Tenting on the old camp ground." The thought occured to him that things which were found to be of such intense interest to him- self might also interest his comrades if they were jotted down. With that view the first series of letters was written. On his way north he stopped off in time to attend the great re-union of Ohio soldiers held at Columbus, August 12, 1880. Pres- ident Hayes, General Sherman and other prominent generals were present, besides a throng of many thousand veterans, of the rank and file. Some one having learned of the author's trip, he was called out and gave a very brief account, which was so heartily received that he was led to think that his letters to the Telegraph, if gathered into pamphlet form, might prove acceptable to many — 4 — who desired a fuller account. An edition was published, which without any especial attempt at advertising, sold readily, and is exhausted. The demand however continues. It has, there- fore, been determined to issue a new edition, adding a second series of letters, written during a more recent visit, in which the writer was accom- panied by his wife. The letters will be but slight- ly modified. The writer believes that the words as they were written on the spot, with the scenes before him ; will be more vivid, and therefore more acceptable to his comrades, than if he had dressed them over and put them into a starched collar and cuffs. The boys at the front had a poor opinion of soldiers who wore "biled shirts" during the war. Too fine a uniform was a sure sign of a shirk. The men in dusty shoes, and rusty blouses, were the men who saved the Union. Those were rugged times. The words which would recall them, even briefly, must not be too smooth. Chas.-O. Browk. Kalamazoo, Sept. 10, 1885. f rebel sympathizers. I can't feed you both ; therefore you must go." . Such remarks will explain why the " soldier ooys" loved " Uncle Billy" as scarcely any other general was loved by his men during the war. Leaving Atlanta regretfully, I proceeded to Kome, where I had arranged for a meeting with a northern man, Col. J. F. Black, owner of the ^Shelby Iron "Works, Alabama, which lie in the track of our devastating Selma campaign. Fail- ing to " meet up " with my friend as expected, the half-day between trains was spent in looking over the place. It is situated at the point where the Oostenaula and Etowah rivers unite to form the Coosa,, which is navigable to this point. Everywhere about are beautiful mountains. In- deed the place is built on its "seven hills," in close imitation of the ancient city for which it was named. It has grown wonderfully since the war, and now supports the title of "city" with easy dignity. Its water tower stands on a commanding eminence, as if set for the defense of the place. The new and beautiful buildings of Shorter College (Baptist) are also most, admirably located on high ground. It is vaca- tion time, but the lady-like little daughter of the President, E. D. Mallary, declared that " it would • afford her pleasure to show me through ; " and through we went, from chapel on first floor to art gallery and tower above. Yery few colleges set out with such complete and excellent outfit a§ the munificence of Col. Shorter has given to this institution. We visited Eome in the fall of 1864, when pursuing Hood in his march to Nashville ; and one of the forts erected here then is still standing. Hither also was sadly borne the body of young General Ransom, who died near here. Of my trip northward through Stevenson, Mur- freesboro, Nashville, and Louisville, it is not my intention now to speak in detail. In a word, however, any comrade who should visit these places would find at all ample reminders of the times and the experiences that were. Second Series. Letters of 1885. GineioR&ti F^mirai^eeBe©^ SCENES OF TO-DAY AND THOSE OF '61 — EMBARKING THE RAW CAVALRY OLD FACES MISTAKEN VEN- GEANCE ON MORGAN. Of scenes we never grow weary. There are places grand by nature, which, once seen, -enchant us forever ; and there are others over which the emotions which thrill or the affections which charm us, have woven their spell, and they also are ever new. In Cincinnati these elements to me are combined. Tl\e views from the Heights are full of beauty. When the Heights are men- tioned (such is man's power to write a curse on the fair face of God's hill), we think first of the great beer gardens, which are notorious through- out the land. But they cannot destroy the glory of the scene. It was a bright morning when at 7 o'clock we rolled into the city. We visited the points of interest, the great music hall and exposition building, the zoological gardens and two of the beer gardens, for the 'latter are not left to one's 75 — 76 - choice. You are compelled to -pass through their grounds to reach the inclined railway. They are the first objects yommeet at the summit of every incline. Each of them is a mammoth affair, with its great porches and open floors, having in all chairs and beer tables for 1.200 to 1.500, perhaps 2,000 beer guzzlers. We saw the court house, whose stone walls are nearly restored. The line of junction with the smoke-colored portion of the old Avail is very distinct. Only a part of one side was left standing. Here is a lesson that whoso runs may read. That court house had become a standing iron}' and sneer at justice ; it was the place where the guilty were again and again turned loose upon a long-suffering public, and the people, after a long time, aroused at length and turned their wrath upon it. There are smaller cities whose smaller court rooms might study -this lesson with profit. There is a sense of justice among the people which will ultimately pour its fires^ujfon any court or any judge who is found to be in league with crime and criminals, and who prostitutes his trust by rulings which are a mockery at justice. There is one spot in Cincinnati which is to me of greater interest than all others. It is the "steep hill-side .of the river-front where the steamers receive and discharge their cargoes. Just now (Aug. 5, 1885), the water is at a very low stage and the great suspension bridge hangs in air 70 or 80 feet above, your head as you stand — 77 — -e at the water's edge. Consequently the whole hill at the river front lies exposed. At high tide it is covered, and the water reaches above the second- story windows at the top. But as I stood there I thought little Of these things ; memory was busy with other days ; I recalled a bleak December afternoon of 1862, when our regiment, having marched in from Camp Dennison, stood in line along this hillside, as the companies were loaded, one after another, upon a fleet of steamers which was in waiting beneath us. Our horses were unused to such scenes, and the work of trans- ferring them across the long gang-planks to the steamers was slow. Now and then a stubborn animal pulled away and rolled off the plank into the river. It was after dark when our turn came. During a larger part of the afternoon we had waited in line. The wind howled ; the river, somewhat swollen, was muddy and angry; the black smoke poured out of the many pipes which lined the river front, was caught by the wind and whirled off and up to join the dark clouds which scurried by in platoons. Altogether the scene was not inspiring to the zeal of a young soldier. Towards evening many of the men who, contrary to orders, had .found their way to the adjacent saloons, became musical and boisterous. They were in poor condition to walk a plank in the dark, over the surging water, to say nothing about leading their horses. One of them stumbled off and, clinging to ,the^ bridle rein, his horse ^— 78 — followed him. They sank immediately beneath the stream, and the work of loading went on al- most without interruption, for it was seen at once that th_e case was hopeless. About nine o'clock our regiment of 1,200 men and horses was all embarked, and the whole fleet, with much blow- ing of whistles and ringing of bells, swung into the stream and was off for Louisville. The scene was impressive. The darkness had deepened into inky blackness. The wind had increased to almost a gale. The steamers poured forth clouds of lurid smoke and sparks ; while the city lying in darkness was revealed only by the flicker o± its street lamps and the glare of its furnaces along the river front. But our men, worn out with the march of the forenoon and the weary waiting which followed, were soon rolled into their blankets, and stretched at full length upon the decks and cabin floors. When we awoke we were in sight of Louisville How well I remember man}^ of the men who stood in line along the river front Sn. that cold December afternoon. Not far from me, to the right, was young J C , who came into the company fresh from college, barely old enough to pass muster, his face and form delicate as a woman's. He brought with him to our recruit- ing officer a letter from his mother, a thoroughly cultured lady, who later visited our camp. I wish I could give you that letter. She spoke of her love for her boy, her only child; told how she — 79 — had looked forward to the time when he should be the support and solace of her old age; told how tenderly she loved him ; but declared that she willingly gave him, her most priceless treas- ure, to the service of her imperiled country. Near Lexington, almost under the shadow of Henry Clay's mansion, that boy was killed with his face towards the enemy, less than a year from that time. His comrades boxed up his cold form and sent it back to that mother. The sacrifice was at last complete. We never heard from her again. Heartbroken, she bore her grief in silence. One of the unwritten chapters of the rebellion was locked up in that heart. We read in history of what happened at the front — the booming of guns and the blowing of bugles ; but the heart- aches, the groans, the hours of weeping in secret places — concerning these history is silent. Yonder to the left, on that line on the river front, was Captain W , a grand man, brave and generous ; killed at Chickamauga. Further to the left was Lieutenant (afterwards Captain) A ; went through the war almost to the time of mustering out ; was killed by a drunken soldier at Macon in the summer of. '65. So I could go up and down that line, looking into the faces of men who stood there with us twenty- four years ago next December, who long since heard the last tattoo, but to whom the realities of war were then in the future. None of us then knew who would live to tell the story. In — 80 — Company D there were four brothers by the name of G . They were ' steady, faithful soldiers, who came fresh from their father's farm. They won the respect of all and being the only case of four, brothers in the regiment they were in a manner noted. They never failed in duty ; were always on hand for drill or march or battle, but served altogether in the ranks, none of them ever being promoted to anything higher than sergeant. Their exploits of various kinds would fill a volume. At the time when John Morgan was creating such a sensation by his guerilla sort of warfare, the youngest of these brothers, one day, surrounded by his comrades, took off his hat, held up his hand and, to the astonishment of all, swore by Almighty God that he wauld kill Morgan if he ever met him. A few months later occurred the affair at Lexington, already referred to. • A battalion of our regiment, after a sharp fight, surrendered to John Morgan, who had in line ten times their number. After our boys had laid down their arms, General Morgan's brother, Major Morgan, wantonly fired at and wounded one of our officers, who was the writer's father, whereupon one of his superiors called out, " Morgan, Morgan, don't shoot a defenseless man! " Young G , hearing this officer called "Morgan" and supposing that General Morgan was before him, remembering his oath, delib- erately "picked up his carbine from the ground and killed this Major Morgan, Of course it cost — 81 — him his life. He was instantly called out and riddled with bullets. But he died happy, think- ing that he had disposed of a man whose name was a terror to the people of Indiana and Ohio. Another of these brothers, having served out his three years to a day, remarked in the morn- ing that he would soon be mustered out and go home. But we were then in a raid and his discharge could not be issued until we should reach camp. In the afternoon occurred the sabre charge of Lovejoy Station, and his head was shot off by a shell from the enemy's battery. An- other, in the same charge, dismounted to help his wounded officer. "While doing that deed of kind- ness the confederates came upon him and both were hurried away to prison. He was permitted to act as hospital attendant to his friend j ten- derly cared for him j brought him to life from the brink o£ the grave ; and when both were on their way home, after the war was over, the Mississippi river boat on which they were, blew up, and both were killed. Such are some of the many fortunes of war which live again in my memory when I stand at the river front in Cincinnati, where these men stood with me in line nearly twenty-four years ago. For them, at last The neighing troop, the flashing blade, The bugle's stirring blast, The charge, the dreadful cannonade, The din and shout, are passed, — 82 — On Fame's eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread; And Glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead. PENNED IN BY THE MOUNTAINS — THE SCABS OF WAB — A WOMAN'S BEMINISCENCES OF A ' POW'FUL Probably there is no other spot on this conti- nent which is the center of so many historic fields as Chattanooga. There are elevated points within the city limits, like Fort WGod, which is still standing, from which you may have in full view three famous and immortal battle grounds. Yonder is Lookout Mountain, the memorable scene of Hooker's " battle above the clouds;" just east of it is the valley where the Chattanooga battle was fought; and further to the east, in fine view, is Missionary Ridge, where the army of the Cumberland retrieved the fame which it lost at Chickamauga. From the mountain top the field of Chickamauga is also in full view, but, lying east of Missionary Ridge, is not visible from the city. Yesterday (August 6, 1885) we visited the battlefield of Chickamauga. The morning was delightful, a little warm, but not as uncomfort- able as many recent days in Kalamazoo. The — 84 — drive out of the city lies along the base of Mis- sionary Ridge, and all the way to Rossville we had in full view the ground up which the famous charge of Sheridan's and Wood's divisions was made. The valley between Lookout and the Ridge is between two and three miles wide, and every foot of it is historic ground. Yonder on the mountain side were Hooker's men; there in full view is the spot where they burst from the clouds and with a shout drove the confederates from the crest. Down here in the valley to the right is the road where Osterhaus pressed forward, capturing the pass at Rossville, and where Wood and Williamson, supporting him, charged the heights on either side of the road. And here, at this ltttle hamlet of Rossville (two or three houses and a blacksmith shop, at the pass) is the spot where Rosecrans stood in consultation with his chief-of -staff Garfield, debating whether he himself should ride back and try to rally his broken army or go into Chattanooga and prepare for the reception of the fragments as they should make their way in. All the world knows the story. He determined on the latter course. Send- ing General Garfield to find General Thomas and place him in command on the field, General Rosecrans rode into Chattanooga, utterly dejected. It is one of the most remarkable passages of his- tory, and perhaps the only case on record where the commander of a vast army deliberately turned away and left it still engaged in a life and death — 85 — grapple with the enemy. Garfield found Thomas standing like a rock, holding his men up against the enemy, who time and again broke upon him in awful surges on that fearful 20th of September, 1863. The Gfap at Rossville is a narrow opening through Missionary Ridge, which rises on either side of the roadway in a steep, wooded slope. The passage through is from a mile to a mile and a half in length. Emerging, we took the road along which General Garfield sped on that mem- orable errand, not knowing at what moment he might find it swarming with masses of the enemy, who were pressing farther and farther to the left and the rear of our army, having utterly broken our left flank. The general direction of the battlefield is south-east from Chattanooga, so that our course east of the Ridge lay along nearly parallel with it, as before passing the Gap it had done on the west side. Every rod of the way is now replete with interest. Over yonder to our left and parallel as we ride southward is Chicka- mauga Creek, along the west side of which the lines of battle were first drawn. There is where Brannan and Baird held our left, and here are the marks on the trees which still attest to every passer-by how thick was the leaden hail which compelled them to yield. We rode leisurely along the red-clay road which now as formerly winds in and out among the oalf and pine trees; now up on some favoring hill, which affords a full view — 86 .— of open fields, over which contending thousands with shout and yell rushed in charge and counter- charge; and now in some valley, thickly wooded, where the poor boys, who stood in their places able to see only a few rods, must often have wondered whether those on left arid right were supporting them or leaving them to their fate. We made no haste. The ground is sacred. Now and then we met the laden wagons of Georgia farmers on their way to the Chattanooga market, tricked out in ail that irregularity of harness and animals which strikes a northerner as extremely grotesque. A very big horse is frequently hitched with a very small mule. Sometimes the broad- strap harness almost covers the animal up, and sometimes the harness is onry a strange tangle of strings, ropes and straps, while the wagon wheels, dished partly one way and partly the other, wobble and groan along as if protesting that their years of service are dnoe and their rest should begin. About ten o'clock we drew near the point occupied by Reynolds, Palmer and Negley, which early in the fight was the center of our line. Finding that we were opposite a farm-house, we tied our horse and went in. The house Avas a little larger than is common in the vicinity, but of the usual pattern, built of logs, having an opening through the middle where the family sit in the heat of the day, where there is always a grateful shade and usually a pleasant breeze. — 87 - The lady of the house, the husband being absent, made us welcome, set chairs for us in that part of the house described, and sent one of her numer- ous children to bring us water " fraish from the bucket" which hung invitingly just in the curb. She lived right here during the battle. We asked her some questions about her experiences, which elicited the remark, " I reckin you alls is frum the noath frum the int'rest you alls takes in the wan." We so assured her. " We'uns had a pow'ful heap o' trouble in them air times. We'uns at first thought the battle was all gwine ter be down yen by the creek, tew mile away, but, law! them guns got louder and louder an 1 d'rectly the shails 'gin to drap right hyar in our do' yard, an' the yard an' all the fields war full of soldiers. Then we 'lowed hit war time fur us to git out o' hyar, an' we went tew a house a couple of miles furder up yen agin the Ridge. I reckin thar war nigh onto sixty of us wimmin thar at that thai- house. Law ! they fought plumb up past our house hyar, through our yard and plumb up old Mr. Snodgrass's house, a mile furder up. Thar's whar Gin'ral Thomas tuk his stan', and the southern army tried mighty hard, an' they fit on that third day till past dark, but they couldn't git no furder. Thar's whfer they had the hardest fighting all around old man Snodgrass's place. He kin tell you all about it, fur he stayed thar threw all the fight." . We lingered a half-hour or more, eliciting from — 88 — Mrs. Kelley her interesting account of the battle. There are few women in the country who have passed through such experiences. Late in the day their house caught fire from a shell and burned to the ground, and the awful stench which pervaded the whole field for some time after the battle kept them away from home. But it required no testimony from living lips to assure us that her home stood in the line of severest fighting, where, after both flanks had been turned, our center, yielding inch by inch and fighting every rod of the way with awful carnage, was pressed back to Horseshoe Ridge, where the " Rock of Chicka- mauga" refused to yield another foot; for, as we turned again into the road and made our way over to the creek, we found almost every large tree, for more than two miles, bullet-marked, as though years back it had passed through a siege of the small-pox. But the scars, even on the trees, are fading out with the passing years. Those on the pines show most distinctly, being- marked with knots of resin, which has oozed out of every bullet-hole. Those on the oaks are dis- tinguished now only by a little slit and a patch of bark smoother than the rest. The creek, narrow, deep, muddy and steep-banked, moves sluggishly towards its junction with the Ten- nessee — an emblem of anything but war, seeming too insignificant to have given name to one of the greatest battles of history. Old (gattlefieU^ F^vi^ited. WHERE THOMAS HURLED THEM BACK — THE SETTLER WHO STAYED IT OUT — LONGSTREET's VISIT — A SCENE OF PEACE — THE FORTIFICATIONS NOW — MOURNING FOR GRANT. i * Returning from Alexander's Bridge, which crosses the Chickamauga near the center of the first line of battle, we retraced our steps for two miles. The valley of the creek for the space of half a mile on either side is just now covered with a heavy growth of corn. Back of the cornfields are the woods, which stand much as they did twenty-two years ago, penetrated by the same roads, whose zigzag courses follow, as is usual in this region, " the lines of least resistance." We turned into and followed one of these cross-roads for some distance, finding everywhere the same evidences of the severity of the fight. Broken and jagged tree tops, with now and then a great scar, which marks the spot where half the thick- ness of the tree was shot away, show where cannon ball and shell plowed their way over the heads of some, to do execution further on. The Written from "Rock City," Lookout Mountain, Aug. 13, 1885. — 90 — larger trees are nearly all blotched with bullet marks. In several Mrs. Brown counted as many as eighteen scars. When we recall that the line of battle as at first formed was seven or eight miles long, and that throughout this distance the trees still bear these scars, though in places in smaller numbers, we may judge of the death- storm in which over 50,000 of our boys stood during those September days of 1863. The line of battle, conforming in general direction to the course of Chickamauga Creek, extended north and south, facing east. After varying fortunes of the first two days, both wings of our army were broken and crowded back, the center yielding also, but more slowly, until the shape of our lines rudely resembled a horseshoe. At this time the centre, under Thomas, was fully two miles west of the creek, posted on a spur of Missionary Ridge called u the horseshoe, ,, while the wings were bent around it to right and left. Here occurred the most fearful fighting of the battle. The victorious and exultant confederates in dense masses were pressing our lines in front and rushing upon our exposed flanks, so far to right and left as almost to have surrounded the entire army. But here also the grand old hero, who had saved the army at Stone's River, had determined to yield no further. When that decision was made there was but one thing for the confederates to do. They fought with des- peration—fought till long after dark; forced — 91 — their men again and again up to the cannon's mouth and upon the cold steel of Thomas's bay- onets, but they went back, like the broken surges of the sea when they have smitten a rock and turned to foam. During this fighting of the third day, Thomas made his headquarters near the summit of the ridge, beneath an oak tree in the dooryard of a mountain farmer, a Mr. Snodgrass, who still lives where he did then. To his house, by a narrow and winding road through the thick timber, we made our way. The ground rises gradually for more than half a mile and is heavily timbered until within 80 or 100 rods of the house, where we emerged upon Mr. Snodgrass's farm. We found the old man, patriarehial in appear- ance, sitting in his yard beneath the tree once honored as Thomas's headquarters in battle. He made us welcome, ordered chairs for us by his side, and entered freely into an account of that great day in his life, when his humble log house was the center of two almost encircling armies, engaged in mortal combat. He remained at his home during the entire battle. In the early stages of it, he did not think flight necessary, and when he would have gone, retreat was nearly cut off, and he was liable to have run into the heat of an engagement in any direction. Moreover Gen- eral Thomas's hospital tents were pitched not far from the house, and jbhe General told him that he would be safer near their flag than anywhere — 92 — else. The wounded and dying were brought into the open yard aud fields around his house, until they numbered nearly 2,000 and the ground was red with blood. From the elevation where General Thomas stood nearly all of the final movements of the battle could be overlooked and directed. Yonder to the left, through that corn- field, is where General Gordon Granger, hastening over from Rossville with three brigades, came to the rescue just in time to hurl his men against Hindman's and Kershaw's divisions of Long- street's command, which had formed and were about to charge our right and rear. Here is where the gallant Steedman, seizing the colors of a regiment, led the charge in person. This was the critical moment and turning-point of the battle. The charge was short and decisive, but the slaughter was fearful. Up yonder, just over the crest of that hill to our right, as we face the east, is where it happened; aud that is where the dead men lay so thick that for a long distance you could have stepped from one to the other. It was a fearful price, but our army was saved. Longstreet tried again to charge our men from the ridge, but the hour had passed and the tide had turned. Here just before us, about 80 rods down the hill, is where the confederates burst from the woods again and again, only to be hurled back. Many of the rebel dead still lie where they were buried on the field. Our boys who — 93 — gave their lives for their country are gathered into the National cemetery at Chattanooga. Among the many who have visited this spot, Mr. Snodgrass told us of three who not long ago rode up to his gate and inquired: 44 Is this where Mr. Snodgrass lives? " 14 I told em* it was." 14 Is Mr. Snodgrass at home? " 44 1 told them Mr. Snodgrass was hyar before 'em." 44 Would Mr. Snodgrass come to the gate? " 44 1 says to 'em, 4 Ef you alls have more to do with me than I have to do with you alls, you alls may come to where I am.' " 44 * But,' says one of the horsemen, 4 this is General Longstreet.' " 44 4 Longstreet or Shortstreet,' says I, 4 is all the same to me. 'Pears like I'm a older man than ary one of you.' " So the patriarch, with the long gray hair and beard, stood on his dignity, refusing to be flat- tered by a visit from General Longstreet. The party stayed several hours. Longstreet was par- ticular to enquire just where General Thomas made his headquarters. The tree was pointed out. On one side a great root, gnarled and knotted, has been washed bare and stands up a foot from the ground, forming, with the body of the tree for a back, a natural seat. Upon this Longstreet sat, saying as he did so: 44 It is reasonable to suppose that at some time — 94 — * during the day General Thomas would sit down on this root, and I want to sit where Thomas sat." It may be remarked, in passing, that Longstreet was moved with the same desire to sit where Thomas had been, some twenty-two years ago, but at that time he got no nearer than the bottom of the hill — there were insurmountable obstacles. During the entire conversation Gen- eral Longstreet referred only in terms of the highest respect to General Thomas. One of Mr. Snodgrass's sons-in-law, living with him and working his farm, was one of the famous " Texas rangers," and carries five wounds, all received at Perrysville. He was very cordial and talked over the former times "with the utmost good humor. Just before we started on our .return to the city he called his little boy: " You, John, run and fetch the gentleman some of them bullets." And presently the lad returned laden with relics, of which the field still affords an abund- ance. He brought blocks chipped from pine trees, with bullets in them, rusty bayonets, belt buckles, and the like. We took several, handed the lad his expected bucksheesh, ate our lunch beneath the spreading branches of Thomas's oaken headquarters, and returned to the city. As we emerged from the pass at Rossville, the shadows from Lookout, which loomed grandly in the west, nearly crossed the valley; the farmers were returning with their empty wagons from the — 95 — city; the cows, gently lowing and tinkling their bells, were leisurely making their way towards many barnyards. Over the whole scene there hovered the spirit and the benediction of peace. It was such a scene as one might picture for some gentle realm where love has always been supreme and where war has been forever unknown. And when we tried to realize that only a few years ago this whole Chattanooga valley was filled with armed soldiers, that every rock has sent back its echo of thundering cannon, that yonder ridge was at one evening time all ablaze with the flash of hostile musketry and howitzers, we seemed to ourselves like those who have dreamed some horrid dream and awaked to a brighter reality. There are many former soldiers, doubtless, who will be glad of a word concerning the present condition of the fortifications which they helped to pile about Chattanooga and which were once of such intense interest to them. We spent a clay in visiting the different forts which are still standing along the former lines of defense about the city. " Cameron Hill " is now accessible to the top by a good carriage drive, and from its altitude of 500 feet we had a fine view of city, valley and river for miles around. The fort on the hill is still there, though broken and weed- grown. Most of the trenches about the city have disappeared. In the cultivated valley not a trace of them remains, and those nearer the city have given way to the many improvements which — 96 — have marked the growth of Chattanooga from a population of 2,500 to 25,000 people. "Fort Wood " is in a good state of preservation, con- sidering the time that has elapsed. But the city has nearly reached it in growing, and it must soon run up the white flag and yield to the vic- tories of peace. " Rock Fort " too will soon he demolished, constant encroachments being made by a neighboring stone quarry. The fort where Grant made his headquarters during a part of the battle of Chattanooga, almost directly east of the city, is also well defined. But it is entirely sur- rounded by suburban cottages, and the demand for surrender has already sounded along the ramparts. On the 8th, while hundreds of thousands from all parts of the land were assembled in New York to bury, with unprecedented honors, the nation's hero, we retired to the National cemetery, where 12,896 men, who in the memorable battles of this vicinity laid clown their lives, now sleep in peace. The cemetery lies east of the city on a gentle hill between Lookout on the one hand and Missionary Ridge on the other. The hill, though sloping gently on all sides, would be a lofty one in Mich- igan, and commands at its top a fine view of the valley southward and of the ridge eastward, where the fighting occurred. The flagstaff and siege guns which crown the summit mark the spot where General Grant and staff stood during the charge of Missionary Ridge. The spirit of the — 97 — great man seemed not far away as we looked upon these fields of one of his most brilliant achieve- ments. Nor could we forbear the reflection that here was a most fitting symbol of the close of the great captain's career, for all these scenes of war outside of the city now lie hushed and silent; flowers are growing in beauty where once the blood of the slain stained the ground; and yonder, where once it tried the souls of brave men to go, a little child is playing with her lamb. The cemetery itself is a most beautiful spot. You enter it through a massive stone arch, which is closed by ponderous iron gates. A stone wall five feet high and three feet thick entirely surrounds the grounds. Once within, all is beau- tiful with every device of the gardener's skill. Not a hand-breadth of the ground is neglected. The whole is one vast luxuriant lawn, close- cropped. The walks and drives are excellently graveled and drained. Long rows of shade trees line them on either side and of pleasing variety. Nothing is stiff or rectangular. The drives and walks and even the headstones are disposed in curves adapted to the knolls and depressions of the grounds. Outcroppings of natural rock here and there have been left; but around them have been planted shade trees, cypress or willow, with oak and maple, and over them are trailing, in all the profusion of nature, vines of English ivy, with interspaces of mottled gray and deep-green moss. Here and there 'are iron tablets with black — 98 — background and raised white letters, by which you are invited to reflect that — No vision of the morrow's strife The warrior's dream alarms; No braying horn nor screaming fife At dawn shall call to arms. No rumor of the foe's advance Now sweeps upon the wind; No troubled thought at midnight haunts, Of loved ones left behind. Rest on, embalmed, heroic dead, Dear as the blood ye gave ! No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave.- Some time ago, in company with my friend, President Morrison, I visited the National ceme- tery at Springfield, Missouri. " I never can come to this place," said the good man, " without weep- ing." His eyes were ready for the handkerchief as he spoke. If the time shall ever come when I . Aug. 17,1885, . 100 — 101 — a visit to the point which overlooks the city and many windings of the river, and go away thinking that they have seen all that is worth seeing on the. mountain. The view from the point is indeed a grand one. From here portions of five different states, it is said, are distinctly visible. Some say seven but that is not true. A glance at the map will show any one how it is possible, from this elevation of two thousand feet, to, see points in four different states, viz.: Tennessee, G-eorgia, North Carolina and Alabama. In addition a lofty peak is shown, which, it is affirmed, is near to Cumberland gap, in Kentucky. If this be true, which I doubt, then we look across the entire breadth of Tennessee, for the Georgia line is only two miles south of the Point. Bragg' s fortifications, on the mountain, were near the Point, and were still in good state of preservation when I was here five years ago. But in the meanwhile they have nearly all been leveled. They who, being on the mountain, satisfy them- selves by a visit to a single locality make a great mistake. There are different places along the entire range which reward the tourist with mag- nificent views, each having its own peculiarities, and each in a manner unrivalled. One feature is common throughout the length of the range; a rocky and precipitous bluff, varying in height from 50 to 300 feet, continuously marks the summit. It is this feature, perhaps more than any other, which renders the view from Lookout so peculiarly — 102 — grand. At any point on the mountain, the sight- seer can easily reach the verge of this bluff and he then has a view which is wholly unobscured by trees, or any obstacle. In most places the bluff is far above the tops of the highest trees which grow on the steep mountain-side beneath. Eock City, so called, where we have made our stay on the moun- tain, is a part of this rocky rampart, situated a mile south of the Tennessee line. There is here no city, as the name would seem to indicate. The solitary mountaneer's cottage at which we are staying is situated in the edge of the pine woods, but a few rods back from the precipice, which is here 300 feet high. In the afternoon the rocky surface of the bluff is entirely shaded, and furnishes a delightful place to read Miss Murfree's book, "Life in the Tennessee Mountains;" for from this lofty perch, " Pine Mounting," and several other scenes of her stories are in plain view. "Eock City" is only a strange and wild effect produced by the rocks themselves. It is in fact a portion of the bluff, laid bare for the space of an acre or two and cleft into deep seams which trav- erse each other in all directions, like the streets of a city, leaving the rocks in huge squares like the business blocks or palaces of some exhumed Pom- peii. These strange streets, forty or sixty feet beneath the surface, are all accessible and each has its name. "Broadway" is of comfortable width and in it trees and shrubbery are growing. " Fat Man's Misery" is a long, narrow rift, through — 103 — which you walk, looking up at the little ribbon of light 40 feet above your head and wondering how long ago some earthquake opened the seam ; won- dering too, how long it will be till another convul- sion closes it up again. The name of this last street indicates the difficulties which certain per- sons encounter in traversing it. The view from this bluff is magnificent. The precipice juts far into the valley and commands a wonderful view of it in both directions ; while dif- ferent ranges of mountains, fold after fold, lie away to the east, till in the dim distance mountain and cloud are blended beyond the power of human vis- ion to separate them. From our lofty perch we look down upon the homes of the farmers in the valley, appearing much like those which Gulliver found in the land of the Lilliputians. The cows look scarcely as large as rabbits, while the teams and wagons passing down there seem so small that it is difficult to persuade ourlselves that they are engaged in the real business of life, bearing its burdens and preparing the stock in trade for its markets. They look more like the tin toys with which children amuse themselves. It is not diffi- cult from such a place to realize that there is One who from His throne, " On the circle of the Heav- ens," regards all men but as children. The appear- ance of the different fields is most interesting as you look down upon them. The whole landscape, with its alternation of crops of different shades of green, interspersed with groves of still another — 104 — shade, looks like a great checker-board with every block clearly defined. The view of the city from here is remarkable. It is fully four miles distant in direct line; seven or eight by wagon road. And yet as we, look down upon it, it seems like a "birds- eye map " of itself. Every street and every promi- nent building may be located. At night when the electric lights are aglow the effect is very fine. It is as though a constellation had dropped from the sky to illumine the valley. The weather here is delightful. We have fire on the stone hearth of our room almost every night and morning. At this hour (10 o'clock A. m.) the thermometer marks 70 degrees. The warmest day that we experienced down in Chattanooga, was no warmer than you had in Kalamazoo, according to the published report. The daily scenes about us here, among these mountaineers, are much like those described by Miss Murfree. The mountain has here and there its little farm, connected by a rude road which strag- gles to right and left through the woods where the many gulleys and knolls may be most easily crossed. The transition from the busy life of the city, lying yonder, to the quiet life of these mountain cottages, is complete. There, all is rustle ; here, all is rest. The mountaineers never hurry. A little field of corn and another of potatoes are growing close by ; the mountain has great "patches" of black-berries growing wild, as fine as any in the gardens of the north: the cows get their own living and deliver — 105 — their milk without asking for tickets ; rent is noth- ing, for the mountaineers are the independent owners of their plain homes; the assessor who should lay anything but a nominal tax upon this mountain soil, would be ashamed ever after to look in the glass again ; why should not these people be contented and happy? Such indeed they seem to be. We preferred a temporary home at one of these cottages, located where we have this view, to the hotels. Our hostess spreads for us three times a day a table whose linen is scrupulously neat, with an abundance of clean, well cooked food. In the abundance with which she feeds us we were happily surprised. But anyone who knows aught of the life of these mountaineers would expect the cleanliness. Miss Murfree is right in saying that the "rude homes of these mountaineers are distinguished by scrupu- lous cleanliness, and in this respect are in striking contrast to the poor hovels of the lowlanders." Fruits, and especially peaches, grow in great abun- dance on the mountain. With peaches, blackberries, milk in abundance, excellent breadstuff's, fried chick- ens and vegetables, we have been fed to our entire satisfaction. Our hostess has a natural dairy cellar, in one of the deep clefts of "Bock City," which is close toher house. There, 40 feet below the surface, she gets from a living spring the water which comes cool to the table ; and thence also, from a natural shelf, over the spring, she brings her pitcher of milk and the roll of butter for our meals. Near here is a former encampment arid some of the stone chim- — 106 — neys erected by our soldiers are still standing, as also one of the old hospital buildings. Yesterday we attended church on the mountain. The local preacher, himself one of the mountain farmers, called for us with his wagon, which, unus- ual to the region, has a pair of springs. His two large mules drew us easily up the steep places and for the equally steep down grades his wagon is provided with a strong brake. We rode more than six miles and found the little log church in a wooded solitude, so completely secluded that we could not see it a few rods away. But the people- had already assembled and we could hear them singing before we reached the church. Their sad- dle animals and teams were tied all about among the trees. We found the house full to almost over- flowing. There were all ages from the children up, a larger proportion than is usual in cities being- young people. Most of the people were of the lean mountain type, light complexion and light colored hair. The singing, led by a very tall man, was good, and nearly every person in the room joined, men, women and children. They sang " Jesus Lover of my Soul," " A Charge to Keep I Have," and several pieces from "Gospel Hymns," which have been printed in a small book in use on the mountain, together with some pieces with which we were not familiar. As we arrived the Sunday school was dismissed and five minutes inter- mission before preaching announced. After the five minutes the room was again filled. I had — 107 — hoped to hear the local preacher but he insisted with over-persuasion that the stranger should speak. I never addressed a more attentive, or respectful audience ; and I found, speaking for the first time to Georgia mountaineers, that their hearts are like the hearts of other people, responsive to the same appeals, bearing the same burdens, thrilled by the same joys and cherishing the same hope of a coming day, when the people of mountain and valley shall meet together beyond the waste of years in a land where they shall go no more out. Old k\n^ j^kont yNa^Vill®- TRACING THE LASTING WORKS AND HASTY TRENCHES — INTERESTING REMAINS TRANSFORMATION OP ZOL- LICOFPER BARRACKS — GALLANT GEN. CHEATHAM — CORDIAL TERMS BETWEEN EX-SOLDIERS OF THE TWO ARMIES. * Our experiences the past few days have been so full of interest that it is difficult to choose a "point of departure 1 ' for this letter." Jubilee Hall, of Fiske university, where we have been most cordially received by friends, stands on the spot occupied by Fort Gillem during the siege of this city by Hood's army. It is at the north- western angle of the city, midway between the capitol and the Cumberland river, on what was the inner line of Thomas's defences. But, aside from the marks of the great battle, Nashville and vicinity is a place of much interest to many thousand soldiers who at one time or another during the war were camped here. What boy-in- blue who ever soldiered in this region does not remember "old Zollicoffer barracks?" — an im- mense brick structure designed for a hotel, which Written from Fiske University, Nashville, Aug. 24, 1885. 108 — 109 — the war caught unfinished, with walls up, roof on and floors in, but with no windows and but few partitions. It was at once converted into a half- way house for regiments en route to camp or field. Two separate times, in different years, detach- ments of our regiment were marched into it in passing through the city. The old Zollicoffer is to-day the Maxwell house of Nashville, one of the largest and finest hotels of the south, As I stepped into its elegant dining-room (the very same where we were served with bread and pork, except the changes wrought by the painters and plasterers), no one said " halt," but a black waiter, with white apron, bowed his suavest and said, " This way, sah." When he handed me the bill of fare, I asked him if he could " bring me a slice of cold salt pork;" but he looked at me and then at the bill, and I forbore. Cold pork and bread in chunks have gone their way from this room, together with the sabres which once clanged along these corridors and the muskets which used to come down with an echoing thump at the command, u Order arms!" 1 My companion at the table to-day was an ex- confederate, a genial fellow now, but he would have been glad of the chance to shoot me about the time I took dinner here over twenty years ago. At the hotel also I met General Frank Cheatham, who commanded Hood's right during the siege, and the confederate left on the last day of the battle. I had a most pleasant visit with — 110 — him. He is a man of medium height, rather full habit, white hair and mustache, florid face, only slightly wrinkled, which lights up with a genial smile at the slightest occasion. He must be about 60 years of age. He makes his home in the city at present, and has been iu this vicinity since the war. He talked freely of his battles and with equal freedom of those in which he confessed that he was whipped. However, be it here confessed that it was no small job to whip him; and there were plenty of confederate generals, rather than General Cheatham, whom we preferred to have in oar vicinity during the " unpleasantness." He told me of his meeting General Sherman at Chattanooga a few years ago, and how they talked over their campaigns together; spoke of riding out recently to the Widow Compton hill, south- west of the city, where his corps was located on the confederate left when — to use his own words — he " was so badly routed." He told me he wanted to climb the hill, but that walking has been rather more difficult recently than in former years, and that he had been obliged to content himself with looking up to the woods which crown the summit. The hill would be called almost a mountain in Michigan, and is perhaps 400 or 500 feet high. When I told him that I had during the past week climbed the hill and made my way through the thick undergrowth along his entire line of earthworks, he grasped my hand warmly and appeared as much delighted — Ill — as if he had met an old-time friend. During the conversation a gentleman passed and with a salute said, " Howdy, general? " " That gentle- man," said General Cheatham, " is Mr. O'Brien, one of the finest men in this city. He was one of my quartermasters during the war." After much more that was to me most interesting, the general invited me cordially to visit him at his home, saying with a smile as he closed, " I have met many men from the north; I always like to meet you; I want you all to know how thoroughly I am re-constructed." He presided at the Grant memorial exercises held in this city a few days ago, and in speaking of the dead hero was moved to tears. Almost every prominent line of the fight, in the great battleground about Nashville, can still be traced by one who knows where to look; while there are places like the left of Overton's hill and Widow Compton's hill, where almost every rod of the trenches remain, and where the bullet-marks are as thick on the trees as at Chickamauga. These two points of the battle-field every visitor should see. The first lies about four miles south on the Franklin pike, and the second is about an equal distance southwest on the Granny White pike. These are the places where the fighting was severest, and where the dead lay thickest. It will be recalled that on the morning of Dec. 15, 1864, under cover of a thick fog, General Thomas's forces, under General A. J. Smith, — 112 — including Garrard's, McArthur's, and Moore's divisions of infantry, together with. Wilson's cavalry command, moved out from our right and struck the enemy in flank, driving him from the outset and compelling him to re-form on his center. The fighting during that whole day was severe, and the enemy struggled with despera- tion, but failed to gather up and was continually driven. During the night Hood abandoned his defences, and withdrew to a position two miles south of his first line, and his troops worked all night throwing up earthworks to receive the assault which he knew would come with the morning. The earthworks extended the whole distance between and including the two points named, a little overlapping the Granny White pike on the west and the Franklin pike on the east. But it was no sort of use. u The Rock of Chickamauga" was in a violent state of earth- quake and eruption, and everything had to "stand from under." Thomas was slow in getting ready; but when he was ready, he was ready. Driving out first on the Franklin pike, we turned aside to visit Fort Morton, whose rocky sides and rod-earth summit have a decidedly war- like appearance still. It stands on one of the highest hills in the southern suburb of Nashville, and commands a magnificent view of the cit}*- on the one hand and a wide sweep of the country on the other. We walked through its broken entrance, over weeds and grass growing peacefully — 113 — enough now, and furnishing pasture for a cow or two which grazed unmolested over the crumbled magazine which once held its thousands of pounds of cartridges and powder. From the escarpment we could look into Port Negley, which stands across the pike and a little beyond, separated by about half a mile from Fort Morton. Between these forts and onward from the latter in a semi- circle, curving southwest and then northwest to the Cumberland, ran our line of trenches, behind which the boys waited and watched, and from which they sallied forth on that 15th day of December. These forts are prominent objects from any outlook in the city, and long portions of our rifle-trenches still remain in the outskirts and just beyond the city limits. Passing beyond these forts, we saw for two or three miles only the beautiful farms and elegant homes which line the pike. Beautiful groves of large oak and beech trees are characteristic now as during the war, and but for the scars they bear, their peaceful shadows would seem to dispute the stern facts of history, which declare that once the demon of war raged in all his fury beneath them. The stone walls have been repaired and are all in place on either side of the road. Here at our left and yonder in the field to our right, some distance away, are " spring houses, 11 which are common to the region, no farm being complete without one. This is the ground over which Steedman's men went forth to the first assault on the morning of — 114 — that eventful day, moving out on our left with so strong a demonstration that he succeeded in com- pletely withdrawing Hood's attention from our right, where the movement in force was being made. Twice did his men move grandly to the attack upon Cheatham, and though each time driven back, they succeeded in the purposes of their commander. Overton's hill lies bordering the pike on the east or left-hand side, as we go towards it from the city. The northern slope is long and nowhere abrupt, but towards the top somewhat steep. It has, here and there, as during the war, a large, wide-spreading beech tree, but is otherwise quite free from wooded growth, presenting the appear- ance of a shaded hillside lawn. It was up this exposed slope that Steedman's colored brigade twice charged with as furious assault as was made .by either side during the battle, leaving their slain so thickly scattered over the hillside that, according to the testimony of a confederate soldier who saw them, and with whom Ave talked on the battle-field, you could have stepped from one to the other. Beech trees retain their scars but poorly, and they who content themselves with a look at the hill from the main road would be almost justified in saying that there are no marks of war in the vicinity. There are several tree-tops shattered by shot or shell, but the smaller marks, elsewhere so plentiful, are few or lacking. Here, however, was — 115 - H the extreme right of Hood's " last ditch," which his bat tie- worn and wearied men worked all night to throw up. A growth of weeds just now hides that part of it nearest to the pike on the west side; but a cross-road, which intersects the pike at right angles just here, runs for half a mile along in front of it, westward. We drove down this road, with increasing wonder that we found nothing of these earthworks, which I knew must be in the vicinity. But a sudden turn in the road displayed a long stretch of trenches, clearly marked and well preserved. Weeds and brush growing thickly had hidden them so that for half a mile we had been within a few rods and going parallel with them without seeing them. One or two experiences of this kind will show one why so many report that they find nothing of interest remaining. A negro living near the earthworks told us that he had never known anyone before to drive out on this cross-road to visit them. Many or most people turn back too soon. We tieil our horse, climbed the fence and walked a long distance along the line where the confed- erates under Stewart and S. D. Lee fought with desperation till about three o'clock on the after- noon of the 16th, when the men could be held no longer, but broke in confused masses for the Franklin pike, which was the only line of retreat left them through the Brentwood hills. Here we were on the line whence they fled. Here lay their wounded and dead. Yonder through field and — 116 — grove came our boys of Wood's and Smith's com- mands, pouring over stone wall and fences, until they occupied these deserted trenches and looked upon the flying fragments of Hood's army. Here too lay thickly scattered before these trenches the men who bought that victory with their life's bloo*d. We searched in vain for fragments of shot or shell; but the man living near the works says they are plenty after a heavy rain or a fresh plowing. In this field the plowing seems never to have touched the trenches themselves, but has been confined to a small piece in front of them. In the next, the works have been nearly leveled; but having found the direction from those which remain distinctly, you can trace the others through the cultivated fields by a faint ridge which runs westward towards the Granny White pike. On our return ride to the city, pausing about four o'clock in the afternoon at a beautiful spring by the wayside to refresh ourselves and our animal, we ;i met up" with a member of the Tenth Tennessee cavalry, who had also stopped for a drink. We found a friend at once. He told me his war belongings and I told him mine, whereupon he declared: " You may be sure I think no less of you for that, for I'm mighty free to own now that you alls were on the right side and I was on the wrong. You know that, of course; but I know it too, now." Generals John- — 117 — ston and Buckner at General Grant's funeral; rank and file of the confederacy talking as I have quoted — can it be possible that we are 011I3- 20 year3 removed from those terrible days of blood- shed, when these men were our enemies and when we were to them the very incarnation of evil! Our next excursion was southwestward along the line of the Granny White pike, which direc- tion we took on the day following our visit to Overton's hill. In the city suburbs we found and traced for some distance that portion of our breastworks leading in a southwesterly direction from Fort Morton. Driving briskly along the well-kept pike over a gentle down grade, we were not long in reaching the outer line of Hood's works, small portions of which we found, extend- ing from the pike eastward to a grove. A fence runs along their summit and one side has been plowed down, so that an untrained eye would probably overlook them altogether. But they are very accessible by a lane which reaches from the pike along their entire extent, just north of what was known as the Cantrell place during the war. A little further south, perhaps half a mile, we succeeded, by the aid of a farmer who lives in the vicinity, in finding a portion of General S. D. Lee's works, who occupied Hood's center. A larger portion of Lee's works lay through what is now cultivated ground. Hence they have for the most part disappeared. The poition which we found and traced is about 150 yards in extent, — 118 — lying along the verge of Brown's creek. It is literally covered with a thick tangle of small trees and high bushes, but it is for that very reason the better preserved. It is very probable that its location may save it for many years to come. It may be found by following the cross-road (just south of the Cantrell place) eastward to the creek t and thence following up the course of the creek to the thick undergrowth. We spent some time with a cottager whose home is a little way from this portion of earthwork. His boys have gath- ered many relics of the field, and only a few days before our visit they sold a barrel of shot and shell for old iron ! If some of those old shells are not yet heard from in the column of cas- ualties, I lose my guess. They were not made for blast furnace crucibles to fool with. Leaving this part of Hood's center, we returned to the pike and pursued our course a mile and a half further south, to Shy's hill and the several other hills with which it forms a short range immediately west of the Granny White pike and residence, and parallel with the pike. Along the crest of this line of high and steep hills Bates's division of Cheatham's corps threw up a hasty breastwork of loosely piled earth and broken stones, with which latter the hill-tops abound. This was the extreme left of Hood's last position,, taken on the night of Dec. 15th, after he had been driven from the earthworks of his first line. Immediately in front of the Granny White resi- — 119 — dence we found a narrow, stony road leading up into a sort of pass which penetrates these hills. Up this road we went to their base and there left our carriage. We had now reached the very south spur of the short range* and were between the positions occupied by Wilson's dismounted men ( who had turned the confederate flank ) and Cheatham's men. The steep ground by which we ascended, making our way over fallen timber and through the thick tangle of brush and weeds, is that over which Wilson's men made their last charge upon Bates's division of the enemy. Reaching the crest of the hill, we soon found the conglomerate breastwork. It must have been a strange scene on that wintry night, when thous- ands of men, weary with a severe day's fighting and heaitsore from defeat, crowded these narrow hilltops, and by pine-knot lights set themselves to the work of piling the frozen ground and the cold stones to make for themselves a trench, in which they well knew that many of them would have to die before another sun should set. And here are the stones and earth which they piled, first along the crest of the hill westward, thence half way down the hill, thence northward along the western slope of the hill, through the narrow divide and up along the crest of the next hill north. Once in the ditch or on the embankment, there is no trouble to trace it. In all probability it will remain here for a century to come, for these rocky hill-tops' can never be worth tilling. — 120 — Here on one side of this ditch died the men who were clad in gray; and on the other, all along up the steep slope, died my comrades of Wilson's command, for it was that to which my regiment belonged. The trees, too, bear their marks. On the side of one I counted 24 distinct scars! As we walked we picked up a fragment of shell and several bits of canteens and cartridge boxes which were dropped here by men who had ceased to need them. But the thick weeds and underbrush pre- vented any effectual search for relics. I predict that the time will come when these hilltops will be made easily accessible, the brush cleared away, and the earthworks visited by thousands. At the foot of Shy's hill, as we descended, we met two confederate soldiers. They did not challenge us. There was no " click, click " of a rising musket hammer, nor any clank of sabres. They simply looked up, one from his sorting of potatoes, and the other as he came towards us, and said cordially, " How d'y?' 1 We answered, " How d'y? " Then we learned that one of them had been a member of the First Tennessee and the other of the Fourth. The spokesman of the two, Mr. Ned Scruggs, as he told us, was in the battle of Nashville, and yearly plants his potatoes and hoes his corn on the ground where he fought — and where he ran. He pointed out to us a gap in the hills through which he went " on double- quick time, yew bet, when our officers corned down the line and says, ' Every man take kyar of — 121 — hisself. 1 I made up my mind that I'd do it quick, and right hyar's where I corned threw on a right smart run." And he laughed heartily as he looked back on the figure which that fleeting Johnny must have cut. Yankees and bullets were after him, and haste was entirely proper. Neither he nor his comrades stood " on the order of their going;" thej r went. They had no time to laugh. It is safe to say they didn't see the joke then. These passing scores of years have wrought a change, when such a man can laugh with a yankee (all northerners are yankees here) over his own disasters. " I -don't think no less of yew to day than ef yew lied a been a rebel right along with the rest of us," was a part of the cordial greeting. " The soldiers never hed no feelin' agin one 'nother no how. Hit wuz a rich man's war an' a poor man's fight. Look a' how we'uns used to meet up with you alls, whenever we hed a chance, on the outposts. Why, we'uns and you'uns used to leave our guns an' meet up 'twixt the lines, an' talk haf hour at a time, an' trade papers an' one truck or other, when the officers warn't watchin'. Done it mo'n wunst myself." He pressed us to go to his house, but the afternoon was already well advanced and we had quite a ride before us, so were reluctantly compelled to decline. We returned the compli- ment and invited him to Kalamazoo. If all of our new-made acquaintances should accept our invitation and visit us at the same time, Kalama- zoo would still be in danger of being taken by confederates. ^\u Em©r^©D c v °f War 8 . A cavalryman's reminiscence of an " unwrit- ten''' EPISODE — HOW A CITY ON THE BOEDER SURPRISED ITSELF OF A WINTER'S MORNING. We reached Louisville yesterday in the afternoon ( Aug. 24th, 1885 ). The change in the city during the past twenty years, in growth, cleanliness, thrift and elegance is very noticeable. The town just now wears a holiday smile of banners and garlands because of its freshly opened Exposition. Of course we have an open eye to all of these things. But our thoughts are mainly directed to other days when these streets were alive with another kind of visitors. Louisville had all of the "crowds" that she wanted in those days. The persistency with which they came must have been discouraging to the thousands of her citizens who prayed for the Johnies and cursed the Yankees. Over the river yonder, a little above Jefferson vilie, nearly opposite the old shot tower, is the site of our camp where, for several weeks, we knocked around in the snow and wondered why the authori- ties did not send us south to close up the war. Later in the war, a few months after the fall of Atlanta, we were encamped over here in the south- eastern outskirts of the city. Many of our horses had been worn out on the Atlanta campaign. 122 — 123 — The rest we had turned over to Kilpatrick's com- mand at Rome, Georgia, and had returned by rail to this city to get fresh horses. During the first days of December we received the company "picket ropes " — long and heavy lines to be stretched from post to post, each long enough to tie the hundred horses of a company to. These we were ordered to have in readiness for our horses; so we knew that the horses themselves could not be far away. They were in fact much nearer than we thought. On the crisp, cold night of December 8th, 1864, a detail of men from each company and regiment was ordered to report with as little noise as possi- ble at a given place in the city. It was about midnight. Quietly the men marched into the city. To each detail a certain portion of the city was assigned, and the men were speedily sub-divided into squads, so that each knew how many houses had been assigned to it. Then at the pre-arranged hour, simultaneously the stables all over the city of Louisville were thrown open and the much-sur- prised horses, without regard to u race, color or previous condition of servitude," were led forth, formed into line and started in procession u by twos" for camp. So quietly was this done that with only here and there an exception, the unsuspecting citizens slept on in blissful ignorance of the fact that, while they dreamed, there had been effected a prodigious and startling transfer of ownership in horse-flesh. It didn't take Louisville long to wake up and get her clothes on in the morning however. It may be remarked that "she done 'woke up, quick, fo' shuah." By daylight thousands of horses, which the night before had been put into- their warm stables, stood out of doors in long and shivering rows, making each others' acquaintance and voting that "the war was a failure." HOW THESE HISTORIC LOCALITIES MAY BE SEEN TO BEST ADVANTAGE AN INVITING FIELD EOR SUMMER TOURISTS. In the interest of those who have never been over the ground and who may be contemplating a trip to the historic scenes of which I have writ- ten, I have been asked to add a brief chapter of such suggestions as might be helpful. As to the time — very many, perhaps most, are frightened -away from the South at that time of the year when most of those who travel have a few weeks of va- cation. They are afraid of the weather. Allow me to remind them that a little more than twenty years ago it was a very popular thing to go South. Hundreds of thousands went in the summer as well as in the winter. Traveling there used to be a trifle inconvenient and dangerous ; but no one laid it to the weather. Both of the trips mentioned in the previous pages were made in the month of August. On the latter the writer was accompanied by his wife. On both occasions the thermometer ranged lower at Chattanooga during the first week of August than it had in southern Michigan dur- ing the last week of July. On Lookout Mountain 124 — 125 — the heat is never oppressive, rarely reaching 85 de- grees Fahrenheit. Probably the latter part of May or the fore part of June would be the most favor- able season for southern travel. I should, however, greatly prefer the month of August to any in the early spring, late autumn or winter, in all of which seasons one is liable to encounter dreary and pro- tracted rains. If you have seen no battle ground of the war and desire to see the most possible in the least space, by all means visit Chattanooga. My reasons for such advice are sufficiently set forth in the preceding pages. Either going or returning you will want to enjoy the wonderful scenery of the Cincinnati Southern railway. My way has been to go by that route and return by ^Nashville., In case you choose that way you will want to take the early morning train from Cincinnati. That will give you all of the most remarkable views, through the moun- tains and the tunnel region, before dark. By that route you reach Chattanooga about nine o'clock in the evening. Good hotel accommodations can be secured in the city for two dollars a day. If you wish to pro- tract your visit, as many do, excellent accommoda- tions can be had at thirty dollars a month. The hotel rates on the mountain are ordinarily two dol- lars a day, with but slight reduction for protracted boarders. Some secure board with the farmers and thus make their stay serve the double purpose of giving them not only the magnificent scenery of — 126 — the mountain, but also glimpses of mountain life. If one wishes he can have their plain but whole- some fare at four or five dollars a week. The livery accommodations are ample and, with proper care on the part of the tourist, reasonable. I have found it of advantage to arrange with one stable in ad- vance, for so much a day, and have had no trouble to secure rates as moderate as anywhere in the' north; single rig, all day, three dollars; half-day drives, one dollar and fifty cents. There is really no need of a guide unless one is greatly hurried. Any person can find the principal points of interest by enquiry and when they are reached he will not be limited by the haste of a guide. Most of these points in or about the city are in plain view. If you are limited for time you can visit Bock Fort, Cameron Hill, Fort Wood, Or- chard Knob, and the National Cemetery, in one day. But it would be better and in the end far more satisfactory to spend a day at the latter place. The natural and artistic elements of the spot are all that could be desired. That is a small Consider- ation however. The men who sleep there have earned something more than a hasty visit to the place where their ashes rest. Uncover your head and walk for a time amid their graves, thinking up- on the price of your liberties. From whatever part of the North, you will be sure to find on those low head-stones more than one familiar name. Missionary Eidge, in plain sight, should have a day. You will have a charming drive to the Eidge — 127 — and beautiful views during the ascent and from the summit. Every rod from its northern end to Eoss- ville is historic, but that part of the slope up which the famous charge occurred is opposite the city and can be pointed out by almost anyone. Chicka- mauga battle-field lies nine miles southeast of the city and its points of greatest interest can be reached without difficulty. The road to Eossville is all in view from various elevated points in the city. When through the Gap at Eossville any farmer can direct you to Mr. Kelley's, whose house stands at a point where some of the hardest fight- ing occurred. He can direct you to Mr. Snodgrass's, where Gen. Thomas had his headquarters during the last day's fighting. From there you can go through the woods in any direction without going amiss. Anyone contemplating such a visit would find the little volume, " The Army of the Cumber- land," by Gen. Henry M. Cist, a great help. His description of the battle of Chickamauga and of the whole region is very intelligent and clear. On Lookout Mountain you will want to visit the Point, Eock City, the Natural Bridge, and if pos- sible, Lulu Lake. The latter requires a carriage ride of seven miles. If possible plan for at least a week or ten days on the mountain. Every ad- ditional day's ramble will find something new and surprising in that region of unparalleled scenery. Atlanta lies one hundred and forty-five miles south of Chattanooga and from the cars a hundred historic points can be seen on the way thither: e_ 128 — Binggoid, Tunnel Hill, Dalton, Eesaca, Cartersville r Allatoona Pass, Kenesaw Mountain, Marietta and others. Many days could be spent in and around Atlanta, visiting the trenches and forts which still remain. [Returning via Nashville, the railroad takes you through Murfreesboro and the National cemetery there. The battle-field there is nearly all open ground and, tying on both sides of the railroad, can be seen from the car window. The letters on the war surroundings of Nashville will indicate the points of chief interest and how to reach them. Without especially reduced rates, the round trip to Chattanooga from any point near Chicago, in- cluding all expenses of a week's stay there and on the mountain, need not be more than $65. Of course the more extended trip to Atlanta will cost more in proportion. The End. THE UNITED SERVIC THE ONLY MAGAZINE IN THE UNITED STATES DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS OF THE MILITARY, NAVAL AND CI VIL SERVICE. THE UNITED SERVICE FOR 1886. Among the many contributions of special interest we call special atten- tion to the following : The series of articles on the late war, by authors who participated in the battles which they describe, both Federal and Confederate, among wtiomwillbe: Brevet Major- General. Brigadier-Gen- eral O. O. Howard, U. S. A. "Sher- man's Campaign of 1864." Brevet Major-General Brigadier-Gen- eral (retired), R. W. Johnson, U. S. A. "The Battle of Stone River." Brevet Brigadier-General U. S. Volun- teers Major A. M. Uandol, First U. S Artillery (late Colonel Second New York Cavalry, "Harris's Light") "The second New York Cavalry at Appomattox, April 8 and 9, 1885." Brevet Brigadier-General U. S. Volun- teers, Colonel A. S. Daggett, Second U. S. Infantry. " The Battle of Rap- pahannock fetation." Colonel A. G. Bkackett, Third IT. S. Cavalry, "The Battle of Ezra Church." Colonel Horatio C King. "Remi- niscences of a Quartermaster, 1864- 65 " • Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander R Chisodm, Aide-de-Camp lo General Beauregard. " Reminiscences of an Aide-de-tamp— The Battle of Shi- loh." Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel, Captain M H.Stacy, Twelfth U. S. Infantry. "The Battles on the Weldon Rail- road, 1864." Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel, Captain W. R. Parnell, First U. S. Cavalry. Recollections of 1863 " Also "REMINISCENCES OF A WESTERN VOLUNTEER," and nu- merous other war articles, which will be duly announctd. Cruises of TJ. S. men-of-war durin the first half of this century, from tt diaries of officers attached to then will be given with interesting d< script ions of countries in all parts t the world, anecdotes of naval office! of that day never before publish* "The Cruise of the 'Vincennes' " i the November United Service opei ed the series. Articles on the Cavalry, Artiller Infantry, by officers of the respects corps, whose names will be a guarai tee of their capacity to treat of su jects dealt with. The NATIONAL GUARD will r ceive attention in the Magazine, ai an article entitled "THE NATIONS GUARD OF THE UNITED STATES by General Horatio C. King, inti January number will be followed) others. The Army and Navy Quartet (Eclectic), having been merged in the United Service, it is our inte tion to reproduce from standard ft eign magazines such professional a tides as will be of interest to office of tne Army and Navy. The CIVIL SERVICE will recei notice and articles relating theret from the pens of able writers, w appear trom time to time. Numerous professional articles current importance, and short stori from eminent writers, will be a lea ing feature of the Magazine durh 1886. We are pleased to state that Ti United Service has doubled its c: culation during the past year. Price 35 cents. $4.00 per annui Specimen Copies sent free on App cation. The November and December numbers. 1.^85, furnished free to subscribers 1 1886, began several interesting serials. "A ZEALOT IN TULLE." by Mrs. Wi DKiCK. wife of an army officer; a story of "CADET LIFE AT WEST POII DURING THE WAR," Capt. Ohakles King, and "THE CRUISE "I IT. S. SLOOP-OF-WAR 'VINCENNES,'" circumnavigating the globe from the journal of Lieutenant Browning, U. S. N. All subscriptions must he addressed to THE UNITED SERVICE MAGAZINE. Post Office Box 1877. - New York City ■ 09 iVT^Wir^T LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 443 709 3