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 ^.UNITED STATES OF AMIlUICA.f, 
 
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 philadelphia: 
 
 Published by the Author, 
 
 1869. 
 
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Entered accoi-fling to the Act of Congress, in the year 1870, in the 
 
 Ch>rk's Office of the District Court 
 of the United States in and for the Eastern District oi Pennsylvania. 
 
 BELL, PRINTER, EIGHTH ft SANSOM STREETS. 
 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 To THE Author's 
 
 Co/viPANiONS IN Arms, 
 
 ANDERSON CAVALRY.' 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 1. The Camp OF '61 7 
 
 II. The Guns or Antietam T") 
 
 in. RoUGH-hlDING IN KeXTUCKY 21 
 
 IV. Down into Tennessee 29 
 
 V. The Stone River Holidays H4 
 
 VI. The Couriee, Line ")9 
 
 VII. Chickamauga — Lookout Mountain (id 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 An account of. the Mutiny in the Anderson 
 
 Cavdlry, at Nashville, Tenu., Dec, hSGJ 78 
 
The Ca 
 
 MP OF '61, 
 
 Yesterday I took a stroll to the site of my first camp. 
 It is not far from Girard College, and I found that the 
 walls of the extending city had encroached somewhat 
 upon the place. But there was the field, without doubt, 
 looking as green and fresh as on that summer day, eight 
 years ago, when first I entered it. The old house still 
 stands under the ancient elms ; the birds — could they be 
 the same?— still flit and chirp among the leaves. The 
 surroundings are quiet. No one lives in the house, 
 apparently. There is nothing to tell the chance observer 
 that this green slope was once bald and slippery with the 
 wear of martial feet; that here a thousand men lived for 
 two mouths in preparation for war. 
 
 Sitting awhile upon the fence, and musing, I had a new 
 sense of the pleasures of memory. It required but little 
 effort of the imagination to restore to this weedy field the 
 well-worn paths, the rows of snowy tents, the throngs of 
 bran-new soldiery. Xor_ were the stirring scenes outside 
 of camp less vividly recalled. 
 
 Bull Run ! where really for the first time in our war, 
 
 "Red Buttle stainpM liis foot. Jitiil nation-; felt tlio shock."" 
 
 It is the most singular field in liistory; from which tlie real 
 victors fled, leaving tlie vanquished in wondering posses- 
 sion ! The name will always be full of startling memories 
 1 
 
to those who recall the gloomy (lavs that followed the 
 hattle, aii'l the pale, stern faces that surged about the 
 news offices, as rumor followed rumor portentious and 
 bewildering. Hardly had the echoes of the contest died 
 away, ere we crowded to the recruiting offices and camps. 
 The merchant, the mechanic, the clerk, the student, gave 
 lip home and all in a moment; and of these there were 
 not a few who trembled lest the surgeon's eye should detect 
 some physical disability which they would fain conceal. 
 The air was alive with the roll of drum«, and the flag — 
 now dearer than ever before — fluttered in miniature from 
 every window, or floated its full folds from the house-tops. 
 Those were immortal days, when the hearts of the people 
 were stirring with the sublime purpose to save their threat- 
 ened freedom, and — for the idea wa« even then gestating 
 — to share it with a bondaged race. Looking back now, 
 in the light of the present, it is impossible not to recognize 
 throughout that fearful struggle — from its beginning, thirty 
 years before the firing on Sumter — the hand of Him who 
 
 "Sways the liiiriuonious niy.^tery of tlie iitiivcrse, 
 Even Ix'ffcr tli.an priiur^ ministers.'" 
 
 But now, to get down from the fence.* Here is the very 
 spot on which the Corporal and I put up our tent. The 
 pin-holes have long since disappeared, but there is still 
 the ditch that we dug, now overgrown with grass and weeds 
 Whit hard, hot work it was, on that July day, to us soft 
 bodied clerks! How we panted and perspired, wandering 
 olTat short intervals to the sutler's for beer, and more than 
 half repenting of our patriotism ! 
 
 The first night brought also the first storm in camp. 
 What soldier does not recall it in his experience? I pulled 
 forth my diary -having hrouglit it with me as an aid to 
 lefleclion —and read: 
 
" Last night the douds gathered heavily, and at midnight 
 the rains descended and the floods came. I was awakened 
 by the uproar, and arose in consternation. Found the 
 Corporal already up and outside, securing the ropes and 
 giving the pins an extra drive. The wind roared furiously, 
 twaying and cracking the trees, and rocking our frail 
 tenements to and fro like skiffs upon the sea. The rain 
 was blown about in sheets, penetrated the tent, overflo^yed 
 the shallow drain, and streamed under the canvas, floating 
 away nearly all the straw of our beds. What remained 
 was water-soaked, so that we could only squat despairingly 
 on our heels until morning, thinking of the home comforts 
 within a bow-shot of us. This morning we have fairly 
 moated our castle, and may bid defiance to the next siege 
 of the elements." 
 
 Next day we put on the livery of war. It is perspiring 
 even now to think of those heavy, "re-inforced" trousers, 
 the canvas-lined jackets, yellow-braided, and bobbed be- 
 hind; the stiff, Puritan hat, with its handful of brass 
 ornaments, which were affixed in various ways, as best 
 suited tKe undisciplined taste of the wearer. As a rule the 
 big men got the little clothes, and vice versa— a. singular 
 pe'rversity, which, with the consequent swapping and 
 trading, came at length to be looked upon as among the 
 ''customs of service." To those of us who were wont to 
 be well dressed and who now expected lady friends to visit 
 us in camp, it was a mortal struggle with pride to swathe 
 our forms in this huge toggery. 
 
 We had sabres thrust into our hands the same evening, 
 and the first dress parade was ordered— for the colonel was 
 ambitious to see his growing regiment in line. It was a 
 ludicrous array of swaddled heroes. Falstaff; I imagine, 
 would have preferred to "march through Coventry" with 
 his shirtless ragamuffins rather than have led our amply 
 
10 
 
 clothed battalion I There was much swearing at the 
 Quartermaster, who in turn swore at the Arsenal author- 
 ities ; but, upon the whole, the boys took it good-humoredly^ 
 and enjoyed the fun of the thing as much as the spectators. 
 
 The first guard duty is a memorable event to the soldier. 
 Here was my first ''beat," along this fence. When the 
 keen-looking sabre was belted around the jacket (the 
 latter folded over back and front for the purpose), and the 
 clank of the blade in the scabbard startled the recruit as 
 he stepped off witli martial tread, he felt then that he was 
 indeed a defender of the flag. His bosom swelled almost 
 enough to fill out the laps in his jacket. He was only 
 puzzled to know what to do with his weapon: how the 
 deuce to carry that scabbard so that it might not trip up 
 his heels, or entangle itself in his legs. But O what 
 misery in the long hours of tramp, tramp up and down a 
 prescribed distance, in the iiot sun, or in the rain and mud ; 
 in the incessant vigilance required to do homage to the 
 officers, who would wander by, in blue and golden glory, to 
 seek such salutation. And then at night the rudely broken 
 slumber, the silent and seemingly endless hours, the 
 intense straining through the darkness for the relief, and 
 the informal reception of it when it came. 
 
 " Who's that ?" shouts the hopeful guard. 
 
 "Corporal with the relief." 
 
 " Good ! hurry up, for Heaven's sake," &c. 
 
 What matter if the Corporal takes him to task for it, or 
 reports him to the sergeant? He is relieved — that is 
 his happiness— and may rest for four hours. How sudden 
 and sweet is the soldier's first sleep by the guard-house 
 fire, after his maiden watch! Sweeter far than any after 
 slumber ; for with every day of service he learns to sleep 
 less soundly, so that the slightest bugle-note or tap of drum 
 rouses hira at once to dutv. 
 
11 
 
 Crowds of visitors roamed through the camp, peeping 
 into our new white tents, and regarding ua curiously, as 
 though we were already heroes of a hundred fights- 
 Baskets of delicacies and bundles of notions were daily re- 
 ceived by the fortunate ones whose friends or relatives 
 were within easy distance. Few of us, indeed, except the 
 Germans (of whom there were several companies in the 
 ■command) were compelled during our stay here to feed on 
 army rations ; scarcely a tent but had its store of home- 
 made dainties. But the frugal and adaptable Dutchmen 
 took straightway to the food which the Government set 
 before them. We natives affected at first to look down 
 upon our comrades from Faderland as mere hirelings, 
 "who had apparently been newly imported as "food for 
 powder; " but they soon proved themselves worthy 
 descendants of the stock that marched and fought under 
 Blucher and Schwartzenberg. 
 
 Over in that field the buglers used to practice. What 
 a lamentable set of blowers they were ! I remember how 
 •strange it seemed to me they could not do better, being 
 Germans, to whom wind instruments come as naturally as 
 do pretzels and beer. But it mattered little, then, how 
 ■they rendered the calls : the notes fell upon ignorant ears. 
 With every toot of the bugles, recurring with bewildering 
 frequency, the recruits might be heard calling to each 
 other in vain what that meant, while the more careful and 
 conscientious sought their officers for information, 
 probably with as little success. 
 
 Behind the house yonder stood the Colonel's quarters, 
 I recall him vividly. A long, sinewy Dutchman, with 
 hair and features after the irrepressible type of Israel. He 
 wore great, baggy, white pantaloons, spurs, a blouse, and a 
 little forage cap that was almost hidden in his crisp hair. 
 He persisted in dragging at his heels on all occasions a 
 
12 
 
 huge artillery sabre, which weapon, it was whispered, had 
 cut off a score or two of heads in the German wars. The 
 Colonel dashed into camp and out again, with mucli ado 
 a dozen times a day, followed by two or three orderlies. 
 His chief occupation during these visits seemed to be 
 swilling beer and smoking jjipes with a few favorite sub- 
 ordinates. Once only he shambled down among the 
 native companies, but finding that his pompous military 
 airs evoked only amusement, he quickly withdrew, and 
 contented himself with holding special reviews of the 
 German companies, and making speeches to them in his 
 native language. 
 
 As an impartial historian, however, I am bound to add 
 that the Colonel was pleased — probably as a "sop to 
 Cerberus " — to promote me to the non-commissioned" 
 staff as Commissary Sergeant. I again open my diary: 
 
 "As the Commissary is not yet appointed (the duties of 
 the position being performed by the Quarter-master), he 
 details me to act as his own secretary. He directs also that T 
 put off the cumbrous regimentals in Avhicli I 2)resentedL 
 myself, and resume my civil garb, until a new uniform, 
 can be obtained from my tailor. He seems to have a- 
 weakness for a w^ell-dressed staff, albeit shabby enough 
 himself. Perhaps it is the contrast he likes ; it was so 
 with Napoleon and Frederic. The cost of this new suit, 
 he says, can be collected from Uncle Sam ; but a diligent 
 search of the Regulations reveals to me no j)rovisions for 
 such expenditure. 
 
 "However, I obey. There is no questioning the com- 
 mands of an old soldier who has chopped off heads in the 
 German wars. ^ * "^ "^ ''■ 
 
 " My first duty as secretary was to write a flaming letter- 
 to the Quartermaster-General, demanding that horses be 
 furnished this regiment immediately; receiving no replr 
 
13 
 
 to which, I had much difficulty in dissuading the Colonel 
 from a direct appeal to the President. * * 
 
 '•The Commissary reports for duty. A most villainous 
 looking Dutch Jew, with eyes like an alligator's. By 
 order of the commander, I report at once to the new-comer 
 who replies, softly and insinuatingly : 
 
 " 'I dells you vot you do — I dells you.' 
 
 "Thinking, therefore, that Iwas now relieved from duty 
 at head-quarters, I took up my abode beside the Commis- 
 sary's. Had not been moved fifteen minutes before the 
 Colonel's sonorous accent was heard: 
 
 "'Gommissary Sarchent ! Vare ees dot Sarchent of de 
 Gommissary? ' 
 
 "I repaired forthwith to the presence. His brow and 
 Yoice were savage. 
 
 "'Sarchent! You haf go away mitout leaf.' I pleaded 
 my office, and his own orders to report to the Commissary. 
 My fault was too evidently one of ignorance, and his 
 ruffled spirit grew serene. 
 
 "'You must keep mit me,^ he said, ' und let dot Gom- 
 missary sent for you 1' 
 
 "Whereupon I mentally sent the Commissary to the 
 devil, and renewed allegiance to the chief." 
 
 The summer weeks wore on. By and by the effect of 
 discipline became apparent. The candidates for glory, 
 having had their rotund garments skilfully tailored, and 
 their faces bronzed by sunshine and storm, began to look 
 like soldiers. The companies march like squads of 
 automatons. The buglers wind their horns more musical- 
 ly, and every call is obeyed promptly and without question. 
 The drills and parades are splendid sights, crowding these 
 fields and fences with spectators. 
 
 At last, when camp life had grown so monotonous that 
 the veriest skulker longed for activitv, orders came to move. 
 2 
 
14 
 
 The camp at once became a scene of uproar. Far into the 
 night the Teutons yelled their songs of Faderland, the 
 natives sang and fiddled national airs. Others scratched 
 hasty notes to loved ones, or perchance stole out of camp 
 for a farewell interview. 
 
 Alas ! that four years' storm of woe — the falling of tears, 
 the riving of hearts— had already burst upon thousands of 
 homes. 
 
 What imagination can compass the accumulated grief 
 that had settled down at the firesides of this people when 
 they emerged once more into peace? 
 
 With the first gray of morning came the noise and 
 confusion of tearing down and loading up, the braying of 
 mules, the shouting of teamsters, the loud commands of 
 excited officers. The regiment was formed with the left 
 resting under that elm. Pockets, bundles, and haversacks 
 were stuffed almost to bursting with the extra baggage 
 bestowed by friends who meant to be kind. Cheer after 
 cheer arose as the commander, resplendent in a new 
 uniform, and soaked to the eyes in beer, dashed along the 
 front, clanking with his spur the bloody sabre of the 
 German wars, and followed by he of the alligator eyes and 
 the full staffj including the "Sarchent of de Gommissary." 
 
 In the heat of a mid-summer morning we marched ta 
 the depot, whence the long train finally bore us away 
 toward Washington, amid tears, and cheers, and smiles, 
 and the waving of a thousand handkerchiefs. 
 
 It is only fair to add, as a sequel to these recollections, 
 that the Government soon found it advisable to dispense 
 with our commander and his sword, njtwithstanding the 
 latter's bloody record in the German wars ! 
 
II. 
 
 The Guns of Antietam. 
 
 Our detatchment came down from Carlisle to Chambers- 
 burg, on the night of September 16th, 1862, and took up 
 quarters in the stables of the Fair Grounds, about a mile 
 from the town. I turned in with my bnnk-fellow* on a 
 bundle of old hav, and we slept soundly until hunger 
 aroused us at day-break. We had brought three days' 
 rations in our haversacks ; but being still in^'God's country," 
 we chose rather to turn up our noses at such fare, and seek 
 elsewhere a more substantial meal. 
 
 Putting ourselves, therefore, in as good trim as pocket- 
 combs and glasses would permit, we shook out some of the 
 dust from our regimentals, and started down the turnpike, 
 with the design of stopping at the first inviting house. The 
 east was glowing redly with tlie approaching sun; the 
 morning air was dewy arid sharp; the early bird twittered 
 among the bushes by the roadside, or perched for an instant 
 upon the top rail of the fence, to swallow the proverbial 
 worm. 
 
 We passed several habitations that did not look inviting. 
 One of them we approached, and my companion had laid 
 his hand upon the latcli of the gate, when a savage growl 
 echoed from the rear of the premises. Presently a huge 
 white bull-dog, of the most surly species, flew up to the 
 
 Wilbur Wiitts, Burliui^toii, N. J. 
 
16 
 
 gate. But we were already some distance away, with an 
 intuitive conviction that those people were not hospitable 
 to the soldier. 
 
 The next house was small, and of the old yellow plaster 
 style, embowered in vines and evergreens of a halfcentury's 
 growth. It looked attractive; but seeing no signs of life 
 about the place, we would have passed it, had not there 
 appeared from the recesses of a side porch an old man, 
 leaning upon a cane, who beckoned us to approach. Only 
 too glad to go, we were speedily beside him. 
 
 "You are soldiers, boys," said he; "I'm always glad to 
 see our soldiers. I was once a soldier myself. Have you 
 had breakfast? or are you now on some important duty?" 
 
 We assured the old gentleman that we could await 
 breakfast without any neglect of duty. He seemed 
 delighted, and led the way into the house, and would have 
 put us forthwith into the parlor, but we persistently refused 
 to invade its cleanliness and quiet. 
 
 We seated ourselves in the kitchen. The old gentleman 
 disappeared for a few minutes,returning with a young girl 
 whom he presented as his grand-daughter. She was a 
 round little body, with blonde hair, and a sweet flushed 
 face. The grandfather apologized for the absence of his 
 son and daughter (the girl's parents), who were visiting 
 friends at Gettysburg. While the grand-daughter bustled 
 alx)ut for breakfast, we talked to the veteran, who had 
 meanwhile lighted his pipe. 
 
 "You say you've been a soldier, Mr. Lyon — in 1812, I 
 
 suppose 
 
 ?" 
 
 " Yes in '12. It's a long time ago, and I'm growing very 
 old." 
 
 " How old, sir?" 
 
 "Past seventy- three." 
 
 " You bear it well, and bid fair to reach a century." 
 
17 
 
 The old man shook his head. 
 
 "Ah, no!" said he, "I can never do that — never." 
 
 '' I hope at least," I said, "that you will live to see these 
 rebels whipped back into the Union." 
 
 fie smiled and took a long whifF. 
 
 "Yes, I hope so, too, my dear boys, and I feel somehow 
 or other that I will. I wish I could help you, but I can 
 only give you my blessing." 
 
 "Do you have a clear recollection of the scenes of your 
 war?" asked Watts. 
 
 "Pretty clear, pretty clear," said the veteran. 
 
 We paused to give him an opportunity to narrate some 
 of his experiences, and plied him with an additional 
 question or two to draw him out; but he seemed disinclined 
 to respond other than in monosyllables. Attributing hi& 
 silence to modesty, or a desire not to be interrupted in the 
 enjoyment of his pipe, we ceased to bother him. 
 
 Breakfast being ready, we sat down to and discussed i* 
 Avith a soldierly vigor that allowed of but little conversa- 
 tion. Neither the old man nor his daughter sat down to 
 table with us: the latter kept herself busy i-eplenishing our 
 cups and plates, while the grandsire sat silently beside the 
 window, puffing his pipe, and wondering, probably, at the 
 extent of our appetites. * ■;<• -x- * 
 
 We had finished the meal, and were about to rise 
 from the table (first taking care to conceal under our 
 plates the bills which our host refused to accept), when a 
 faint sound, like that of distant thunder, reached us. Watts 
 and I knew at once what it was. I looked at the veteran. 
 He was shaking the ashes from his pipe — evidently the 
 sound did not reach him. Soon another rumble followed 
 more distinct than the first. 
 
 " Do you hear that, Mr. Lyon ? " I asked. 
 
 " Hear what, my son ? " 
 
18 
 
 " The sound of battle," I replied, rising and pointing to 
 the South. The words electrified him. 
 
 "Why, no — you don't say that — really?" And the 
 old soldier, bustling up from his chair, walked briskly to 
 the door. Not hearing the sound immediately, we all 
 went out with him to the gate. 
 
 And now, plainly enough, the roar of distant guns came 
 up in a succession of subdued reports. The veteran 
 heard it. His eyes kindled amid the embers of age. 
 " Dear me," he said, stepping back and forth, and bending 
 forward to listen, " it has been fifty years since I heard 
 that. It carries me back to Plattsburg, where the sound 
 almost deafened me. Thunder was nothing to it. Ah 
 me ! if I were -only younger — only ten years younger — 
 I'd put on my coat of '12, and take my old musket, and 
 go forth again under the old flag. I would, boys, I 
 would r^ and the brave old fellow struck the ground 
 emphatically with his cane. 
 
 Another burst of artillery, louder than any that had 
 preceded it, seemed to arouse the old gentleman anew. 
 
 "That's it! that's it!" he cried excitedly, "give 'em 
 another like that, as we did at Plattsburg." 
 
 Turning to his daughter, who seemed rather apprehen- 
 sive of the old man's excitement, he said quickly; "Run 
 to the house, Anna — run girl, and bring me my coat and 
 musket." Anna obeyed and the veteran continued: "I'm 
 not so old, after all. I'll go with ye, boys ! Damn it, I'll 
 go with ye! I'll see the flash, and hear the musketry, 
 anyhow." 
 
 He was pacing restlessly back and forth, striking the 
 ground with his cane. 
 
 "I'm afraid we can't see it, father Lyon," I said; "our 
 command is not yet mounted, and the battle will be over 
 before we could reach the field." 
 
19 
 
 "That's too bad," he said, " too bad. "We needed every 
 man at Plattsburg. Well, here's my coat — ray coat of 12, 
 Now you'll see the old man become a soldier again. 
 Hurry, hurry, girl." 
 
 "Grandpapa," said Anna, as she approached with the 
 coat, "your gun is too heavy for me to carry, so I left it." 
 
 "Ah! true, true," said her grandsire, "I was cruel to 
 ask it of you. Perhaps I could not handle it myself." 
 
 She gave us a sly wink, as she said this, from which we 
 inferred that other reasons had induced her to leave it. 
 
 " Never mind it ; I'll put on my coat. Here," — he said, 
 giving me his cane, while Watts took his coat. The 
 latter was of faded dark blue cloth, with worsted epaulets 
 and trimmings, and metal buttons— a genuine old re- 
 gimental. He was assisted to get into it — not a difficult- 
 operation, by any means, for it lapped over and hung 
 loosely about his spare form. "Ah! boys," he said, "I 
 used to fill this out roundly." Having buttoned his coat 
 from chin to waist, we stepped off and removed our hats 
 to the veteran. He appreciated the compliment, smiling 
 with evident delight, and said: 
 
 "Come now, lads, I'll be your Captain — I'll lead you." 
 He flourished his cane, and gave us some tactical com- 
 mands, which we executed promptly, to his great delight. 
 
 All this while the thunder of the distant conflict was 
 plainly audible, and the old soldier would relapse into 
 silence every moment or two to listen. Then, supported on 
 either side by a trooper, whom he entertained with volu- 
 ble recollections of the past, this veteran of our second 
 war of independence marched feebly but proudly up and 
 down the path to the sound of his country's third life- 
 struggle. The scene was sublime. Needless to say, our 
 patriotism was newly and deeply stirred. 
 
20 
 
 Bat we were alreiidy overdue at ciiinj), and reluctantly 
 Inirried away. Tlie good old man waved a farewell to us 
 with his cane as far as he could see us. We did not ex- 
 pect to see him again ; but as no marching orders came 
 during the day, we v*entured to return after nightfall, to 
 tell him the news. The excitement of the morning had 
 reacted upon the brave old fellow. We found him, help- 
 less and feeble, stretched upon a settee. 
 
 But he was still enveloped in his coat of '12, and his eye 
 grew bright again as we detailed to his wondering ear the 
 first crude accounts of the great battle of Antietam : how 
 Hooker Avas borne bleeding from the field — how Burnside's 
 men stormed the bridge; and especially did we dwell in 
 sadness upon the fall of our own brave young Stockton — 
 the first mortal sacrifice which the cause had yet exacted 
 from our command. 
 
III. 
 
 Rough Riding in JKentucky. 
 
 A Pleasanter five days' trip was never enjoyed than 
 ours from Louisville to Bowling Green. The weather 
 was delightful — those early winter days of the South, so 
 full of sun-shine and breeze, and the clear frosty nights, 
 that made double blankets agreeable. 
 
 Our regiment numbered nearly a thousand men, newly 
 clothed, equipped, and mounted, and gloried in its 
 strength. The ubiquitous Morganwas known to beskulking 
 in the country adjacent to oar line of march, and although 
 his force was double ours, not a man of us but longed to 
 fall in with the famous raider. 
 
 But we had not that pleasure. Morgan never fought 
 unless he had every chance in his favor, and even then, 
 as many of his bold troopers will acknowledge, he often 
 got handsomely whipped. 
 
 We arrived at Bowling Green on the afternoon of a 
 beautiful Sunday in December. Our camp was located on 
 the grounds of a wealthy rebel in the southern edge of the 
 town. The wealthy rebel was still at home enjoying his 
 comforts, and, as it soon appeared, his privileges. For 
 just as tin cups and regimental pots were simmering over 
 the fire=!, up dashed an orderly, with a command from 
 General William Sooy Smith, to vacate the premises forth- 
 with. We were polluting soil which had been consecrated 
 to the Confederacy. There was no help for it. It was then 
 
 3 
 
22 
 
 the policy to make polite concessions to the rebels of local 
 prominence as an acknowledgment of their chivalry. 
 Especially was this so with certain young and lofty 
 Brigadiers, to whom the favor of a rich rebel skinflint, or 
 the treacherous smiles of his pretty daughter, were more 
 welcome than the cheers of the soldiers. There was some 
 "tall" swearing done by the boys when the order was 
 promulgated. Major Rosengarten, in deference to their 
 fierce expressions, delayed moving until morning, it being 
 then nearly dark, and to search for and get settled into a 
 new camp, would have taken us far into the night. The 
 troopers blessed the Major; but, as it will appear, would 
 have fared better if the move had been made at once. 
 
 Morning came and with it the breaking up. The sky 
 was ominously leaden and heavy at daybreak, but no one 
 thought of anything beyond a shower. Tents were soon 
 down, wagons loaded and sent off, horses saddled. As we 
 mounted the rain began to fall in big drops, and when we 
 were got half way through the town, the flood-gates of 
 Heaven opened upon us the most terrific rain-storm that 
 I ever beheld. Faster and faster, heavier and heavier, it 
 came, accoippanied by blasts of wind that threatened to 
 sweep both horses and men away. Rubber coats and 
 talmas were of little avail. Bootlegs overflowed with 
 water. The streets of the town became creeks and rapids ; 
 and when we had labored through theui and got beyond 
 the place, the prospect seemed more dreary and hopelesa 
 than ever. Slowly and wretchedly we toiled on through 
 the flood and gusts, crossing swollen streams with the 
 water over our stirrups, and the currents dangerously 
 strong. Our poor animals were barely able to get along. 
 We were to seek and occupy a camp in this storm ! Where 
 it was to be no one knew, not even the commanding oflicer. 
 Hour after hour we labored on, and still the rain beat 
 
28 
 
 down. Would it nerer cease? In vain we glanced up from 
 under our dripping visors to catch perchance some sign of 
 a break in the dark sky. Al. Eilil grimly observed that 
 something certainly was broken up there ! The soldier's 
 discomfort is seldom too great for a joke. 
 
 It must have been about the middle of the afternoon 
 when our wagons loomed up dimly through the rain. 
 Reaching the spot we found them up to the hubs in a field 
 of mud. The tents and baggage had been vmloaded and 
 lay scarcely distinguishable in the mire. 
 
 "Is this our camping ground?" was the incredulous and 
 indignant question. 
 
 The answer soon came in an order to dismount. 
 
 The Major now come in for a hearty cursing, as had the 
 Brigadier before him. The boys thought it a pitiful 
 exercise of judgment to select so palpable a mud-hole for 
 a camp in a region where high, hard ground was plentiful.''^ 
 
 But we went sullenly to work. Night was fast approach- 
 ing, and the rain — the relentless rain — still fell. It was 
 long after night-fall when the last shelter was np. But 
 our miseries were only intensified by the night. There 
 was nothing to eat that was not soaked and sodden ; ^no 
 lights, no wood that would kindle. There was also but 
 little food and less of other comfort for the horses, who 
 pawed impatiently, often neighing piteously, all through 
 the cold, drenching night, immersed half way to their 
 knees in water. 
 
 There was nothing to do but to squat upon our saddles, 
 shivering and dozing, while the water and mud ran in 
 
 *HoAv mary soldiers of the Army of the Cumberland have explained 
 to themselves this standing mystery: Why regimental and brigade 
 commanders would so persistently and cruelly fix their camps and 
 bivouacs — in dry weather, as remote as possible from wood and water, 
 in wet reather, plumply in a mud-hole? 
 
24 
 
 streams under us and over our feet. It was our first bitter 
 experience in the field, and later ones were never worse. 
 Scores of us were laid up in the hospitals for months, and 
 Bome, alas, never came out of them alive. 
 
 Morning found us soaked and stifi^, ravenous for nourish^ 
 ment. The storm had ceased, and a cold north-wind was 
 crusting the liquid earth, and drying up the pools. In 
 the distance, apparently not a mile away, were the spires 
 and chimneys of Bowling Green, and nearer still we 
 recognized the mansion of the wealthy rebel, whose land 
 we had polluted. In our blind-search for a camping ground, 
 we had, it seemed, innocently marched in a circle around 
 the toAvn, halting at last near the original starting point I 
 Of course this fact added greatly to our serenity and 
 satisfaction. 
 
 We now transferred our efiects once more a short distance 
 nearer the town, on elevated ground thinly belted with 
 cedars. 
 
 What a relief it was ! How delicious was the odor of 
 the coffee at breakfast, of the bean soup at dinner ! The 
 sunshine had never before seemed so lovely. The long 
 lines of clothing which we hung up to dry, would have 
 conveyed to a housewife the idea that ours was a camp of 
 washerwomen. The poor beasts, too, were not forgotten. 
 How they relished the corn and oats which we poured 
 into their nosebags ! My own little " Shiloh " frisked his 
 tail and winked his big dark eyes with the pleasure of 
 mastication. 
 
 But these comforts were not to continue long uninter- 
 rupted. In the midst of the coffee and hard -tack of 
 supper, lo ! a courier with more orders. The boys looked 
 significantly at each other. Had we again unwittingly 
 trampled upon sacred ground ? 
 
25 
 
 The courier (one of us) was stopped on his way out of 
 camp, and informed us that John Morgan was at Glasgow, 
 forty miles away, and that we were to make a night march 
 thither to surprise him. 
 
 Those of us who were to go were, therefore, prepared 
 for tlie order which soon came: 
 
 " Two days' rations, boots and saddles in half an hour." 
 
 We started, four hundred strong, at sunset. 
 
 "The moon was up— by lieaveu, a lovely eve! " 
 
 But it was also very cold, and the wetting which most of 
 us got in crossing the Big Barron, rendered our ride 
 doubly uncomfortable. The winds which had pi evailed 
 all day had measurably dried up the roads. We followed 
 the Louisville pike for about ten miles, then turned east- 
 ward, crossing the Louisville and Nashville rail-road near 
 Bristow's station. As we crossed the track the head-light 
 of a locomotive was seen dwindling away in the southern 
 darkness. It afterwards transpired that a freight train, 
 bound North, had stopped at or near the station for some 
 purpose, when the alert ear of the conductor caught the 
 tramp of cavalry from the turnpike on his left. Believing 
 that Morgan — who was daily looked for at all points of 
 the line— was now really upon him, he reversed his engine 
 and got away with all speed to Bowling Green. His scare 
 ■was communicated to the garrison, which turned out en 
 masse for the expected foe. 
 
 After several hours brisk riding, the road trending away 
 nearly due south, we turned sharply to the east again into 
 another road — and certainly one of the mast extraordinary 
 and uncomfortable by-ways ever traversed by mounted men. 
 
 Scarcely two yards in width, it led for many miles 
 through forests so dense that not a ray of moonlight could 
 penetrate them. The trees seemed twisted into all manner 
 
26 
 
 of shapes, and the limbs projected across the road at every 
 angle. It was with the utmost difficulty that one could 
 keep his seat. Hats were knocked off and scalps were 
 grazed. The tall fellows caught it right and left, and 
 several were fairly unhorsed. The guide at the head of the 
 column sung out incessantly "down," "down!" as an 
 admonition to those behind to dodge a projecting bough. 
 The warning passed in an endless chorus along the column, 
 but its very frequency defeated its kindness. For several 
 hours we traveled in this manner, a squadron of in- 
 voluntary hump-backs, every moment adding to the 
 number of the hatles.=, braised, and bloody. Then, beneath 
 us were pitfalls, and mud-holes of unknown depth, and 
 corduroys tumbled and broken, with many of the timbers 
 sticking upright in the mud. 
 
 Travel over such ground was difficult and dangerous, 
 speed impossible. It was far past midnight when we got 
 clear of the woods, and halted at a plantation a mile or 
 two beyond. 
 
 The place was deserted, except by a few negroes, who 
 came out shyly, rubbing their eyes and doubting whether 
 we were rebels or Yankees. Throwing out videttes, the 
 command dismounted in the road, and built fires. Some 
 warmed themselves with a hasty cup of coffee, and 
 discussed the mishaps of the night, and the chances of a 
 fight in the morning; while others, with their feet to the 
 fires, slept the time away. The country about us seemed 
 indescribably desolate: rugged and wooded and wild, with 
 habitations few and far between. It had felt the tread of 
 hostile armies only a few months previous, when the great 
 Don Carlos was so handsomely, and perhaps willingly — 
 
 " Let! by the nose, as asset- lire.'' 
 
27 
 
 After resting for some time, we quietly moved on again. 
 The morning was piercingly cold. Day-break found us 
 still winding along in close column. The sun was deliorht- 
 ful to our bodies, chilled by the frost of night, and to our 
 eyes, weary of the monotonous gloom of forest, stream and 
 road. 
 
 About a mile from Glasgow the advanced guard was re- 
 inforced and flankers thrown out — for it was not doubted 
 that the wily John was but a little way before us. 
 
 Every ear was alert to catch the crack of carbines. But 
 none came. The advance had now reached the top 
 of a hill, at the base of which lay the town, and halted to 
 reconnoitre. Developing nothing, our major, supposing 
 that Morgan had drawn in his outposts and was awaiting 
 us in the town, again reinforced the advance and ordered 
 it to charge. Carbines were dropped, and sabres drawn — 
 reins were tightly clutched — every man gathered his 
 breath — for this was our maiden charge ! 
 
 At the word, down the sloping road we trotted — a motley 
 troop of bruised and clouted cavaliers — breaking soon into 
 a gallop, and clattering with wild shouts into tlie square 
 of the town. 
 
 The women and children, and old men, hurried to their 
 doors — but still no shots! Parties were dispatched all 
 over the place, but no armed foe appeared. 
 
 The major now arrived with the main column, and 
 condescended to ask the Glasgowans, where was Morgan ? 
 "He'd been thar a yar ago," they said : " didn't know any- 
 thing 'bout him now." 
 
 To say that we were chagrined and crest-fallen to have 
 our rough ride and valiant charge turn out so tamely, 
 would be saying only the truth. Some of the knowing 
 ones declared that the whole adventure was a scheme to 
 
28 
 
 discipline our greenness, and get us into trim for real 
 work further South. 
 
 But this theory was soon unsettled; for upon looking 
 about the place, we discovered that Morgan's, or some 
 other mounted force, had been there only a short time 
 previous, as evidenced by many fresh horse-tracks and 
 remnants of feed for man and beast, dispersed about in a 
 method peculiar to cavalry. 
 
 With this crumb of comfort — the probable flight of 
 Morgan at our approach — we turned our faces toward the 
 southwest again. It was a cold and weary ride back 
 over the country, by a d liferent but no less difficult or 
 desolate route, at one time getting lost and groping about 
 for hours in the woods. Night had again settled around us 
 ere the welcome hail of the picket ushered us once more 
 to the comforts of camp. 
 
IV. 
 
 Down into Tennessee. 
 
 A WEEK of rest and quiet at Bowling Green, and then 
 we packed up for another long, but withal a pleasant ride, 
 down into Tennessee. Our route was far more interesting 
 and exciting than the march from Louisville. The 
 country became more desolate as we advanced, and showed 
 more recent marks of the presence of armies. Besides, 
 Morgan was still skulking about, and we hoped that he 
 might run against us accidentally — which did not happen,, 
 however. 
 
 Then, too, we had the mountains to cross. Tlie southern- 
 portion of Kentucky is traversed by a spur of the Cumber- 
 land range, over which the highway leads into Tennessee. 
 It was laborious work to transport the trains over these 
 mountain roads. The way frequently leads alone: narrow 
 ledges of rock, while chasms of unknown depth gape 
 hideously around. Any restiveness or insubordination in 
 a team might have plunged wagon and all over the pre- 
 cipice. At such places it was the custom to dismount the 
 train-guards and string them out along the brink to keep 
 the mules from approaching too near. Then there were 
 gulleys and ravines to jolt through, and steep declivities 
 to scale, requiring stout shoulders at the wheels. 
 
 But we crossed in one day without accident, and 
 bivouaced for the night in a beautiful blue-grass field, un- 
 der the shadow of the mountain. At noon of the next 
 
30 
 
 day we passed a perpendicular shaft of gray stone, about 
 the size of a horse post, standing in the centre of the road, 
 and — entered Tennessee. 
 
 There was something romantic in touching the soil of 
 the old State. From our boyhood days the name had been 
 embalmed in the songs of slavery and the stories of the 
 border. To our imagination it was still in transition from 
 the barbarous to the civilized— partly the haunt of the 
 savage and the pioneer, as well as the. home of the planter 
 and his gang of happy slaves. One voice among us struck 
 up the dirge of the poor old slave that went to rest 'way 
 down in Tennessee; the sentiment was infectious, and in a 
 moment more nearly the whole column was joining in the 
 strain. The chorus gathered in volume, and rolled back 
 in prolonged echoes from the mountains behind us, pro- 
 ducing a remarkable, if not musical, effect. It seemed like 
 the requiem of Slavery, then within a few days of dis 
 solution. 
 
 The appearance of the country was now visibly changed. 
 Beautiful, rolling land stretched away on every side, so 
 unlike the rough hills and dead levels of Kentucky. But 
 it was mournfully desolate. Houses along the road were, 
 for the most part, deserted ; and where they were not, only 
 a few women and children appeared, staring in wondering 
 silence at the passing Yankees. One village through 
 which we passed was entirely uninhabited; houses and 
 stores were open but empty; not a living thing was seen 
 in the place. The fences along the road were stripped 
 away, leaving only scattered heaps of black ashes and 
 charred rails, around which had gathered in turn the 
 Federals and Confederates. 
 
 On the evening of December 23 we arrived, tired with 
 a day's brisk riding, at Tyree Springs in Sumner County, 
 about twenty miles from Nashville. It was a lovely place, 
 
31 
 
 and before the war had been a favorite resort of the 
 wealth and beauty of the south. The hotel was an immense 
 structure, of wood, light and graceful, with verandahs 
 from the foundation to the roof. Around the building 
 clustered a beautiful wood, and down in a romantic hollow 
 bubbled the Springs. Passing the place at sunset, there 
 was no person visible, no doors or windows open, no sign 
 or sound of life in the neighborhood. The unnatural 
 loneliness of the spot was impressive and ominous. 
 
 We went into camp about half a mile further south, at 
 the base of a slope that hid the buildings from view. Just 
 after dark, in the midst of our horse-feeding and coffee- 
 boiling, a bright reflection was observed over the trees in 
 the direction of the Springs. The light rapidly increased 
 in intensity and compass until the whole northern sky was 
 illuminated. Soon the huge columns of smoke that began 
 to roll up above the v;oods, 
 
 "With gloomy splendor red," 
 
 confirmed too truly our fears that the hotel was on fire» 
 From our picket-post at the top of the hill a sublime and 
 terrible sight was presented. The immense building was 
 wrapped in great sheets of flame, which forked wildly out 
 from the Avindows and curled above the roof. It burned 
 up with frightful rapidity. In less than an hour from the 
 beginning the whole burning mass collapsed with a crash 
 that shook the woods around, and sent great volumes of 
 flame and smoke far up into the heavens. 
 
 The immensity of the structure, its elevated position 
 the gloomy and oppressive silence of the surroundings, 
 and — more than all— the mysterious origin of the fire, 
 combined to make a startling picture of war. 
 
 The Southern papers complained with just bitterness of 
 the destruction of this place, but attributed it, of course, 
 
32 
 
 4.0 Yankee vandalism. All I can say is that we had no 
 hand in it, and that if our search of the neighborhood 
 had succeeded in unearthing the incendiary, there would 
 have been meted out to him a summary punishment. 
 
 Another day's slow march ensued, winding through 
 bodies of infantry, interminable wagon-trains, and other 
 evidences of proximity to the army. 
 
 At four o'clock we discerned through the dusty air the 
 high walls and chimneys of the Kock City — and over all 
 the dome of the Capitol — looming up grandly in the sun- 
 light on the bluffs of the Cumberland. Passing through 
 the pleasant suburb of Edgefield, we halted on the steep 
 xiver-bank, to await the passage of a wagon-train over the 
 pontoons. Before us were the remains of the suspension 
 bridge destroyed by Bragg after the fall of Donelson. The 
 wires still dangled from the abutments, and dipped into 
 the river — a melancholy sight. Further down was the 
 rail-road bridge, which had also been partly destroyed by 
 Bragg, but was now repaired and in use by the Government. 
 
 We sat our horses impatiently until the stars came out; 
 ■then, at six o'clock on Christmas eve, following the last 
 wagon over the boat bridge, we scaled the steep south-bank 
 and entered the city. 
 
 Inspiriting change ! The streets were quiet and yet there 
 was enough bustle and light and life, to make it seem like 
 liome to us, who had been a month in the wilderness. The 
 very horses seemed to breathe new spirit as their hoofs 
 touched the novelty of a paved street. We halted a few 
 moments, during which the cake shops in the vicinity were 
 hurriedly bought out by the hard-tacked troopers, to whom 
 a gingerbread, howsoever musty and stale, was a luxury 
 far above the steepest price that could be put upon it. 
 
 But we moved on again, clattering through the long 
 treets, out into the southern suburbs, the lights and stir of 
 
33 
 
 the city sinking away into the gloom behind us. Turning 
 off to the right at the end of College Street, we bivouaced 
 on a slight eminence, grassy and wooded. 
 
 All around us was the buz of camps, and the horizon 
 was aglow with a circle of innumerable fires, about which 
 were gathered the fiftv thousand soldiers of Kosecrans 
 whom he had ordered to move on the 26tli. The soldiers 
 were celebrating the morrow with illuminations and 
 amusements; and were jubilant, too, over the prospect of 
 closing again with their old enemy on familiar ground — 
 a new-born confidence, developed already by the genius of 
 their new leader. 
 
 Our coming was hailed with congratulations from the 
 neighboring regiments upon liaving arrived "just in time 
 for the fight." 
 
V. 
 
 The ^tone Riyer -Holidays. 
 
 I SHALL never forget the raelanclioly sweetness of the 
 reveille as sounded by bugler Murdoch on that morning 
 after Christmas, eighteen hundred and sixty-two- 
 Christmas-day, raw, damp, and disagreeable, had been 
 depressing to the spirits, and the order to move, coming 
 just after our five days' ride from Kentucky, had put us in 
 no very good humor ; added to which was a defection in oUf 
 camp, six hundred men refusing to march: why and where 
 fore, I purpose not to say here. 
 
 Upon the whole, it was a melancholy regiment ; and 
 when the strains of Murdoch's bugle, touched with an 
 eloquence which only he could give, floated over the camp^ 
 they were in sad unison with, and helped to deepen, the 
 general gloom. Ere the notes had died away I pulled 
 aside the flap of my tent, and looked out. The sky was 
 dark and solemn, the camp still silent. But one person 
 was visible — Major Rosengarten, full-dressed, standing 
 before his tent. He looked pale and handsome, and seemed 
 to be listening to the last echoes of the reveille. Was it the 
 voice of Fate, speaking to him in those dying notes, that 
 paled his cheek and fixed his eye so vacantly ? 
 
 The morning was damp and cheerless. Rain set in early 
 — a hard, cold rain, which continued throughout that day 
 and the next. The troops that had encircled us were 
 already miles on the march. Nothing remained but the 
 
forlorn an<l dripping c/eir/.s of the camprt, and an occasional 
 straggler searching in the ruins for plunder. We were the 
 only regiment left to follow ; and those of ns who desired to 
 go — say three hundred men — assembled by 8.V o'clock 
 under the command of Majors Rosengarten and Ward. 
 
 An hour's trot on the Nolensville pike brought ns up to 
 the rear divisions of McCook, plodding merrily along in 
 the rain and mud, joking betimes, and filing aside to allow 
 our cavalcade to pass — not without remark, of course, for 
 your "dough-boy" seldom looses an opportunity to gibe 
 at his mounted comrade. Said one tired fellow, as he 
 splashed along : 
 
 "Here comes these jockey-soldiers, ridin' over us ; soft 
 thing tli^y have of it " 
 
 His remark was greeted with many approving comments. 
 
 " Bah ! " growled an old sergeant, who had evidently seen 
 both arms of the service, "it's not so soft as it seems, 
 Charley. A fellow's got enough to do to take care of him- 
 self in a campaign like this, without bavin' a horse to look 
 to. Besides, when the fightin's over there's no rest for the 
 trooper ; he's got to go it always. Tell ye boys," continued 
 the veteran, elevating his voice, " let them be cavalry that 
 wants to be, I'd rather march this way and fight this 
 way." •* 
 
 This reassured the discontented ones, for the man was 
 evidently the oracle of his company. 
 
 A little further on we overtook the artillery, Edgarton's 
 and Goodspeed's Ohio batteries— splendid organizations, 
 already famed for their services under the lamented 
 Mitchell. Edgarlon was chief of artillery for Johnson's 
 division, and rode proudly at the head of his guns, little 
 dreaming that a few days hence would find them in the 
 hands of Hardee, while he and his men would be hurried 
 to a prison-pen in the heart of Dixie. 
 
36 
 
 Thus on hour after hour. The rain continueil to fall, 
 the mud to deepen. There were frequent halts to await 
 the clearing away of rebel skirnaishers, and other obstruc- 
 tions. Fur away to the left we could hear occasionly the 
 faint patter of musketry, and the booming of heavier 
 weapons, proving that Crittenden's men were at work. 
 
 The day waned rapidly under the leaden sky. At night- 
 fall the rain respited us for an hour or so, and we turned 
 off into a soaked field to bivouac, but had scarcely dis- 
 mounted w^lien the bugle again sounded to horse. Then 
 out on the pike again, groping through the mud and 
 darkness for several miles, until a house or two loomed 
 up before us, and lights flickered through the windows. 
 
 It was Nolensville. 
 
 A. short halt at the head-quarters of General Johnson 
 resulted in moving us to a wet clover field near by. Therein 
 stood two huge hay-stacks, which in five minutes were not 
 so huge by a good deal Our horses were unbridled, and 
 gorged themselves on hay; while their mas^ters, swallowing 
 rain-soaked ''tack," and lying crowdedly aro'md the few 
 small fires that were allowed, rested tolerably, notwithstand- 
 ing an occasional sharp shower during the night. 
 At three o'clock on Saturday morning, the 27th December, 
 we were aroused quietly by the orderlies. The morning 
 was uncomfortably sharp, and a thick fog covered every- 
 thing. Bridling up, we gathered silently around the 
 smouldering embers of the fires. There was in every man 
 an instinctive consciousness of being near " the front," that 
 mysterious and eventful region so often referred to in the 
 prints, and in the rear camps. There was no room to doubt 
 it now. Evidently we had reached McCook's advance, and 
 were about to lead it. The front ! the rebels ! under fire ! 
 These experiences, so long heard and read of and hoped 
 for, were now at last to try our maiden courage. 
 
37 
 
 What rousing letters we would write liome, descriptive of 
 charge, of hair-breadth 'scape, of victory ! 
 
 But alas ! who should survive to write them ? Who no\T 
 living of that martial group that gazed so abstractedly into 
 the cinders, but will recall the manly figures and brave 
 faces of those who never wrote their share of the campaign 
 that followed ? 
 
 As soon as it was light enough to see a little way into 
 the fog, Ave rode through the town and out the pike toward 
 Triune, halting at a little log-house that stood on elevated 
 ground, and commanded a view of some bold hills beyond. 
 While we were peering through the mist, endeavoring to 
 see something of the " front," there emerged from the log- 
 house a portly, pleasant-faced General officer— R. W. 
 Johnson, whose division occupied Nolensville. The 
 General stood awhile talking with Major Rosengarten ; 
 and from his gesture^, and an occasional word caught, we 
 now became satisfied that those hills, barely discernible 
 . through the fog, were held by the enemy's out-posts, and 
 that there our first fight was to be. 
 
 So it proved. Our little command was divided into two 
 equal squadron^, one to advance directly along the pike 
 to Triune, the other to dislodge and push the rebels from 
 the hills that skirted eastward from the road. This latter 
 duty fell to Major W^ard's party, which I follow. 
 
 Starting in advance of the other squadron, we moved 
 down the road at a brisk trot. At the same time the fog 
 lifted considerably, giving us a clearer view of the field. 
 A short distance out we passed the infantry pickets, who 
 hailed us with with such words as "go for 'em boys!" "give 
 'em thunder!" etc. (I say thunder, but that was not the 
 precise word used.) 
 
 Reaching a fxvorable point, the Major ordered the fence 
 on the left of the road to be taken down, which was done 
 
38 
 
 in a twinkling. Our party then filed over into a meadow, 
 soft and miry, difficult to traverse — so much so that several 
 horses were unable to keep up. We floundered through 
 as fast as possible, skirted a cornfield, swept up a hill 
 through a belt of timber, and descended into a wooded 
 hollow, right under the enemy's position on the ridge. The 
 column had not all entered the hollow, when hang — hang, 
 zip — zip, came the rebel greeting. There was an immediate 
 and general scattering to seek the protection of trees. We 
 listened to the bullets until the novelty of their sound wore 
 away, and then some attempt was made under our cover 
 to return the enemy's fire ; but the most careful scrutiny 
 of the wooded heights above us failed to discover a foe, 
 
 "By George, Barney," whispered my mess-mate, Watts, 
 "I see a gray back nov/; look! up there behind that short 
 oak — he's stooping down. D— n him I I'll fetch him" 
 — and while I watched the object. Watts carefully poised 
 his carbine, and fired. The rebel did not move. I also 
 fired ; the smoke cleared away, but there still stooped the 
 supposed gray-back. 
 
 "Thunder!" exclaimed my comrade, in disgust," its only 
 a stump." 
 
 And so we kept pegging away at stumps, under the 
 impression that it was the soldier's duty to burn as many 
 cartridges as possible. But the rebel bullets still came 
 cutting through the tree tops, dropping the twigs and leaves. 
 
 The sound had become familiar, and as none of us had 
 yet been hurt, we were slow to appreciate the danger of our 
 situation. Now, however, a new peril appeared. Our 
 virgin ears were startled by the roar of a field-piece from 
 the unseen heights before us, and with a horrible whir-r-r, 
 a rifled shot came plunging through the trees, and buried 
 itself directly in front of my horse. Little "Shiloh" 
 jumped back and trembled, as well he might. Hastily 
 
39 
 
 forming a line along the northern slope of the hollow, it 
 was our Major's intention to charge up the declivity; but 
 the line was not fairly completed before another deadly 
 missile came crashing toward ns, and, but for a ptout tree 
 that stopped its career, would have made sad havoc in our 
 ranks. At the same time a trooper Avho had been sent 
 forward to reconnoitre returned and reported that a charge 
 would be impossible. It was plain that we must go at them 
 by some other way. 
 
 Withdrawing from the hollow in good order, we struck 
 a bee line, eastward, across the fields, to a point near the 
 house of a Mr. Copeland, where the rfdge before us was 
 much less difficult of ascent. Here we formed a double 
 line of battle, with skirmishers, and in that manner 
 advanced resolutely over the hills, encountering no enemy. 
 
 They had withdrawn, hastened by the gallant charge of 
 Eosengarten's squadron on the turnpike, the firing of which 
 we had heard. Evidences of recent rebel presence met us 
 at every step. Raw pork and meal, soaked in the rain ; 
 scattered corn, and embers emittingtheir last feeble smoke 
 — these remains of the enemy were highly interesting to us 
 green troops. One sanguine youth dismounted and secured 
 an old bayonet scabbard, which he no doubt still preserves 
 as a relic of his first battle field. 
 
 The rain now began to fall again. It would be hard to 
 depict the extreme discomforts of that march. Hour after 
 hour the rain fell heavily, with brief pauses, which were 
 filled by a cold, cutting wind. Still we toiled on through 
 the sodden fields, halting occasionly to reform our line 
 when the nature of the ground broke it up. 
 
 We stopped at a large plantation house, fronting on a 
 SAVollen creek. One of the horses had given out, and the 
 rider must find another, or be left in the rear. I was 
 ordered back with him to find a remount; so, loading the 
 
40 
 
 extra accoutrements on Sliiloh, we started. It was an 
 unwelcome task to toil back over those miry fieUls, know- 
 ing that the same ground must be traversed a third time 
 in rejoining the command. 
 
 In an hour or so we reached Copeland's house, but (as 
 vre had expected) found his barn empty. An old negro 
 man, the sole occupant of the premises, informed us that 
 the master had sold his stock to the Confederates, and had 
 gone off with them himself. The honest old fellow softened 
 onr disappointment admirably by filling our canteens with 
 a capital article of applejack, and our haversacks with 
 corn bread. 
 
 The horseless trooper, full of an energy imbibed from 
 his canteen, shouldered his equipments, saddle and all, 
 and set out for Nolensville, two miles distant; while I, 
 shaking the generous black hand of our friend, turned my 
 face once more to the front. Before riding away I took 
 occasion to tell the negro that in a few days, on the first of 
 the year, he would be a free man, and explained to him 
 briefly the proclamation of President Lincoln. The 
 innocent old soul regarded me all the while with a look of 
 amused incredulity. He thought, no,doubt, that under the 
 influence of applejack I was endeavoring to perpetrate a 
 grave joke upon him. Subsequently I learned with 
 satisfaction that this man had fully realized the truth of 
 my statements by becoming a soldier in tlie service of tli© 
 United States. 
 
 Shiloh labored gallantly through the tough fields and 
 driving rain, to the brick house where I had left the 
 column. But the latter had gone. I followed the tracks 
 over the creek for a mile, until they led me into a cedar- 
 wood, where all trace disappeared. I was lost! 
 
 It was now near night-fall, rendered earlier by the cloud- 
 ed hcAvens. The prospect was uncomfortable. Should I 
 
41 
 
 plunge blindly forward, or await daylight there ? In either 
 •case it was possible to fall into tlie enemy's hands. 
 
 The instinct of a brute is often sharper than human wit. 
 The thought flashed upon me, and I resolved to trust to the 
 dumb sagacity of my little horse. Loosing his rein, I 
 gave him the spur-, expecting that he would start off into 
 the woods. Imagine my consternation when he stretched 
 out his necli to nose the way, and turned abruptly to the 
 rear again, out of the cedars! My faith in animal instinct 
 wavered. I was about to turn him back again, having no 
 idea of retreating, when he suddenly changed his course 
 in another direction. 
 
 Two hours after I learned to ray admiration that the com- 
 mand had actually entered the cedar woods and turned out 
 again, taking the precise route followed by»my horse. 
 
 It was a long, dark, and toilsome tramp. More than once 
 I dismounted to ease the animal, intending to keep him 
 company on foot ; but the faithful beast would not stir un- 
 less I remained on his back. 
 
 Thus on, long after dark. How well I remember, when 
 at length I emerged upon a hard road, and saw the welcome 
 glimmer of camp fires in the distance ! Riding up along 
 a wooded ridge, I was brought to a stand by the hail of a 
 picket. He passed me safely, but, I thought, reluctlantly, 
 as I was unable to give him the " chaw of tobacker " which 
 he requested. 
 
 In a low field, immediately on the right, a few fires 
 were glimmering, and figures of men and horses moved 
 darkly about. Familiar voices came out of the gloom, 
 and [ knew that my comrades were there. Watts greeted 
 me with a hurrah and a cup of coffee. Shiloh was unsad- 
 dled and made as comfortable as possible. The rain had 
 mercifully ceased, but a slight snow had fallen — a most 
 unpleasant niglit. Sleep, '' sore labor's bath," came gen-p 
 
42 
 
 erously to our weary bodies ; and when the bugle aroused 
 us once more, we found the sabbath breaking clearly over- 
 head, and the long- imprisoned stars, having peeped out 
 before the dawn, were fainting away at the sun's approach. 
 
 There was a sharp rattle of musketry just ahead, the 
 morning greeting of the pickets, but it soon died away. 
 
 What a quiet, beautiful Sunday it wa=?, after the previous 
 two days of gloom ! We were in the vicinity of Triune^ 
 whence Hardee had retreated the previous evening. The 
 brigade of infantry across the road from us packed up 
 early and were off somewhere before we had saddled. 
 There appeared to be no hurry for us. We made coffee 
 and toasted pork at our leisure. The sun was two hours 
 high before we mounted and moved slowly down the road. 
 Even then there was no purpose apparent in our march. 
 It began to be whispered about that the army would rest 
 that day, and the knowing ones assured us that "Old Rosey'^ 
 was a strict observer of the Sabbath, and would not willing- 
 ly desecrate it by the shedding of blood. 
 
 A little way south of the town we dismounted in a grove, 
 and stretched ourselves out upon the strewn leaves. How 
 quiet was everything and everybody! The genial noon-day 
 sun was rapidly warming the tired troopers into slumber^ 
 when lol a courier from head-quarters, with the regimental 
 mail. 
 
 It was our first since leaving Bowling Green, and for 
 awhile there was a lively scene. The son, the brother, 
 the lover, the husband, there on the eve of battle, greedily 
 devoured the dear messages from those who, with anxious 
 and tearful hearts, would await reply — many, alas, still 
 waiting ! Groups were gathered about tlie few who had 
 received newspapers — the Press and Tribune a fortnight 
 old — telling how Burnside had failed at Fredericksburg. 
 A few isolated themselves to writ 3 up their diaries, or to 
 pencil hasty replies to letters. 
 
43 
 
 "Mount!" 
 
 The command came, swift and sadden, without warning. 
 Letters and papers were hastily crammed away. The 
 woods echoed with the jingle of sabres and the stirring of 
 leaves as we mounted and trotted off down the road, across 
 a deep creek— the bridge over which had been destroyed 
 by the rebels the night before— altogether a distance of 
 three miles, halting at the house of a Mr. Pett. It was a 
 pleasant place, surrounded by orchards and corn-fields. 
 We were on the road to Eagleville, by which Hardee had 
 retreated, and it was suspected that his scouts were in the 
 neighborhood, making Pett's house their head-quarters. 
 On the porch stood two young ladies, with whom our Majors 
 talked politely. But the girls were spirited Confederates, 
 and did not appreciate Yankee civility. One of them 
 displayed a pocket pistol, with which she threatened to 
 blow out the brcTins of one of our officers who had presumed 
 to address her. The premises were searched, but the girls 
 were apparently the only occupants. 
 
 After listening awhile to their unwomanly bluster we 
 returned to the creek. Toward sunset, however, another 
 alarm was given, and we again dashed forward to. the 
 place. This time the house and surroundings underwent 
 a thorough scrutiny, the ladies all the while threatening 
 terrible vengeance. 
 
 ''Mark my woids," exclaimed she of the pistol, "you 
 cowardly Yankees will go flying back to Nashville to- 
 morrow quicker than you came — though I hope to 
 Heaven"— here she raised her clenched fist — "that not 
 one of you will live to reach there." 
 
 The lady was not naturally pretty, but the dramatic 
 excitement of the speech gave color to her cheek and fire 
 to her eye; while her earnest boldness commanded our 
 respect. Not a few brutes among us, however, allowed 
 
44 
 
 their low instincts to triumph in derisive laughter. Her 
 wish, alas! was partly fulfilled, as will duly appear. 
 
 Finding no secreted enemies in the house, we at sunset 
 fell back again to the creek, and prepared to picket it for 
 the night. A line of posts was established, extending 
 from the junction of two roads on our left, to the Triune 
 pike on our right, a distance of over a rnile. The party 
 with which I was detailed took post at the ford, near the 
 remains of the bridge, our videttes being doubled and 
 thrown across the ford a score of yards toward Pett's, 
 commanding a view of the road as far as his house. 
 
 The night was frosty and moonliglit. Watts and I went 
 out on post for the last time at 4 o'clock on Monday morn- 
 ing— just the time, from that to daylight, when attacks on 
 outposts are usually made. As we were holding the ex- 
 treme right of the army, it was probable that the enemy's 
 cavalry would be on the alert to develope our position. 
 We were therefore instructed to be very vigilant. 
 
 The first hour passed away in silence — the next was the 
 most dangerous. Our eyes were kept fixed upon the road 
 by Pett's house, for at that point we expected every minute 
 to see the foe start up darkly against the horizon. 
 
 Suddenly our attention was drawn to a rustling among 
 the corn-stalks, away over in the field on our right. It 
 ceased for a little while, but was soon detected again. 
 " Do you hear that, Barney ? " whispered my companion. 
 " I do — we must look sharp." 
 
 The silence for the next interval — the strain upon our eyes 
 and ears — was excruciating. Again we heard the noise, 
 more subdued bat evidently nearer than before. Acting 
 upon the same instinct, we both quietly and quickly dis- 
 mounted, and posted ourselves at the fence that skirted the 
 corn-field. Kneeling there, and holding our bridles with 
 the left arm, we rested carbines on the middle rail of the 
 
45 
 
 fence, and awaited the enemy. We had no doubt at all 
 that a rebel had left his hiding place at Pett's, and was 
 approaching us in this stealthy way to pick us off. 
 
 After another fearful silence, the sound came again, 
 startlingly distinct and near, accompanied by the cautious 
 tread of feet. On came the miscreant, stopping every instant 
 or tAvo, as if to listen and peer ahead. Not more than six 
 yards now intervened between us and the foe ; but we could 
 see nothing in the tall, close corn. 
 
 The suspense of that moment was painful and profound 
 — I recall it now with a thrill, and so, no doubt, will my 
 companion. Not that we were more nervous than soldiers 
 usually are; but one may calmly face an open foe, and yet 
 shudder at the creep of an assassin. 
 
 The next instant Ave should have fired blindly into the 
 corn, Avhen directly before us the stalks were thrust asidd^'^ 
 and there appeared in the Avaning light of the moon — reader, ^ 
 what do you suppose ? ^Yhy, only the big ears and head of 
 a Avhite jackass! There Avas our assassin, assinine and 
 innocent, munching the fodder at his ease, unconscious of 
 the terror AA'hich he had inspired, and of the tragic death 
 which he had narroAvly escaped. Immensely relieved, Ave 
 arose before the beast as suddenly as apparitions, and he 
 he in turn w^as frightened into a hasty retreat. 
 
 The joke leaked out— it AA^as too good to keep to ourselves 
 —and to this day Watts and I are known to many of the 
 boys as the pickets Avho Avere bushAvhacked by an ass. 
 
 Monday daAvned clear and cold. At eight o'clock no 
 enemy had appeared. We Avere relieved by infantry, and 
 the command fell back to Triune, where Ave found our 
 Avagons, and replenished haversacks for tAA'o days more. 
 
 Major Rosengarten, then, under orders, detailed thirty 
 men to act as train guard, and Avith the rest of the three 
 hundred started off on the southern flank of McCook 
 5 
 
46 
 
 who was now moving eastward to concentrate with the 
 centre ond left. 
 
 The wagon guard consisted of the newly relieved pickets, 
 so that Watts and I were included — not greatly to our 
 regret. Being directed to await orders at Triune, and 
 anticipating aoma hours of quiet, we prepired to provide 
 for the inner man such luxuries as the neighborhood 
 afforded. Some successful foraging was d:>ne. The whole 
 party dined regally on fresh mutton and pork, goose, 
 chicken, et3., with enough left for another day. (rovern- 
 ment meat was at a heavy discount. With full bellies 
 and jovial spirits we lounged in "groups about the fires, 
 recounting the incidents of the previous few days, and 
 voting unanimously that campaigning w.is not so terrible 
 after all, when opportunity like the present offered com- 
 pensation. Some of the boys had secured a quantity of 
 applejack from a neighboring still. Canteens were freely 
 circulated and pipes went round. Conversation grew genial 
 and mirthful. The pickets who had been bushwhacked 
 the night before came in for raillery. Songs were sung — ■ 
 "Gay and Happy,"and others of that ilk — with a vehemence 
 that argued well for the strength of the applejack. Ah yes, 
 the boys were happy, very happy; and noisy 
 
 Sj noisy that we did not hear the thunder of hoofs on 
 the road until a horseman Avas almo't in our midst . He 
 was a courier fro ii our commind. AVith pale face and 
 excite! utterance he told this fearful story: that the 
 regiment had been ambuseided by a heavy force of rebel 
 infantry, and that the two Majors, four Sergeants, and 
 sfeveral privates, were known ti b3 dead; others wounded 
 and missing.* 
 
 *Iq this cliiir^e th-rrp wai^-. olevvn killcl, tweuty-five wjiiniel, an 1 
 nine missing'. 
 
47 
 
 There was no more -song or mirth that day. Tlie tidings 
 seemed incredible, but confiiraation and detail were swift 
 to follow, and the horrors of the story were more than 
 verified. They had discovered Avhat they supposed to be a 
 small force of rebels secreted behind a brush-fence; charging 
 across the fields to within a few yards of the enemy, they 
 were met by a long sheet of flame from two regiments of 
 infantry, with the result above stated, — except that Major 
 Ward Avas not instantly killed, but lingered a little while 
 at a house near the scene of the slaugliter. 
 
 With this terrible news came orders to move the .train 
 on the morroAV across the country to the Murfreesboro turn- 
 pike, and rejoin the command near the licadrjuarters of 
 General Rosecrans. 
 
 It was a melancholy night, that. Around the fires, in 
 low, sad voices, the calamity was discussed, and the 
 mysterious presentiments of some of the killed were made 
 known. Herring had written a line to his wife, on the 
 fly-leaf of his pocket bible, to the effect that he was about 
 to be killed. Kimber had, that morning, been unusually 
 anxious to wash his face, and upon being asked in a 
 jocular way why he was so particular, replied, with a sad 
 smile, that he would ''make a better looking corpse." 
 Rosengarten had at starting expressed the belief that he 
 would not come back alive. Ward had a noticeable de- 
 pression of spirits, which even his natural gaiety could not 
 conceal. 
 
 Both the Majors were young, well-connected, ambitious 
 and daring ; and though perfectly friendly to each other, 
 there was an ill-concealed rivalry between them which 
 sought comparison in personal gallantry. They were 
 supposed to be constantly in search of enterprises that 
 promised a field for such display. 
 
48 
 
 They had found one, the first and the last. Their rivalry 
 was ended, and equal glory was their meed. 
 
 The " wee sma' hours" were upon us ere the gloom created 
 by the day's tragedy was forgotten in slumber. Even there 
 it followed me. In a dream I again opened the flap of my 
 tent, and saw the melancholy figure standing alone, listening 
 to the voice of that fate which had now closed about him 
 forever. 
 
 The life of a soldier in the field gives him little room 
 for sentiment. The scenes crowd each other ; the excite- 
 ments of each day are forgotten in those next following. 
 So that when the morning of Tuesday, December 30,dawned 
 upon us, and we bustled about for breakfast, and packed up 
 to march,there was a visible return of philosophy and good 
 cheer. 
 
 All that morning we jogged along with our five warons, 
 through a wild, wooded country, impeded in our march by 
 the roughness of the roads. At noon we had made but 
 half a dozen miles. We halted, then, at a sharp turn in 
 the road, and near by stood a cabin from which the smoke 
 curled up into the air, showing it to be inhabited. Several 
 of our fellows, having consumed their mutton, and still 
 holding the Commissary in contempt, rode up to the house 
 with the hope of buying something eatable. Watts and 
 myself brought forth the remnants of a boiled goose. 
 Sitting our horses thus comfortably, in the warm sunshine 
 of noon, we listened anon to the faint sound of skirmishing 
 that came up from the south, and congratulated ourselves 
 on being in the rear and out of danger. 
 
 Suddenly we noticed two or three troopers scampering 
 wildly from the house, and through the woods behind the 
 latter caught sight of a party of rebel horsemen approach- 
 ing the road. We had not time to recover from our 
 astonishment— indeed, I was half-inclined to believe that 
 
49 
 
 the strangers were frieiuls, as two of them wore blue over- 
 coats — wlien they began to fire at us. Watts had his 
 horse's ear slit by the first bullet. We were about getting 
 our carbines into position, when an immense crowd of 
 brown-coated cavalry appeared in the woods behind the 
 first party, and swarmed toward us. 
 
 We did not wait to see any more. Our whole party, 
 teamsters and all, commenced a masterly retreat in every 
 direction, every man for himself. The rebels kept up a 
 constant peppering at the fugitives, and shouted to them to 
 surrender. Many of them complied, and were paroled 
 (and robbed) on the spot, to find their way as best they 
 could to Nashville. The victors then cut the mules loose, 
 and set fire to the wagons. 
 
 All this v/hile, as may be expected, Watts and I were 
 getting out of the way. He had the fastest horse, so that 
 his retreat in the matter of speed was more masterly than 
 mine. But after a good, long, rough three miles of gallop, 
 I overtook him, together with a small party of the Third 
 Tennessee Cavalry. This regiment Iiad been dispersed 
 elsewhere by the same rebel force, now ascertained to be 
 Wheeler's. That General was making his famous raid 
 around the army of Eosecrans, and was fresh from his sore 
 repulse at Lavergne. 
 
 The officer in command of tlie Tennesseeans got tlie 
 stragglers together and would have followed the rebels, 
 with the hope of saving a wagon or two ; but more escaped 
 men came by and reported the total destruction of the 
 train. 
 
 My blanket felloAv and myself held a counsel of war, and 
 decided upon our course. We made our way as fast as 
 possible through a wretched country, in the direction, as 
 we supposed, of the Murfreesboro pike. About dark we 
 emerged from the forest upon a turnpike. Following it 
 
50 
 
 up to and aerons Overall's Creek, we began to overtake the 
 ambulances and wagons of Davis and Sheridan, and 
 learned to our disgust that this was the Wilkerson road, 
 two miles west of the one we were seeking. The troops 
 of McCook had advanced along this pike during the day, 
 fighting themselves into position. Evidences of conflict 
 met us at every step — numerous dead bodies, wounded 
 stragglers, scattered arms and accoutrements, trees shivered 
 by shot and shell. 
 
 Tired out with the day's work. Watts and I were loth to 
 go further that night, although anxious to rejoin our 
 command. The latter was supposed to be somewhere on 
 the Murfreesboro road, near the general head-quarters; but 
 to find it then would have necessitated a night's blind 
 traveling through a wilderness of cedars. We concluded 
 to await daylight. 
 
 We Avere now at Grierson's farm, a mile south of Overall's 
 creek. On elevated ground to the left of the road, opposite 
 the orchard, were some ammunition wagons belonging to 
 Sheridan's division. Making known our situation to the 
 teamsters they welcomed us to their fires with soldierly 
 hospitality, and put us in the way of procuring corn for 
 our horses. 
 
 Th^ night was clear and cold — so clear that I made some 
 notes in my diary by the light of the moon. We were 
 about three miles from Murfreesboro, not more than one 
 mile from our own front. Our position gave us a view of the 
 southern horizon, which was lighted up with the fires of 
 the enemy. Eockets occasionally shot into the air. By 
 attentive listening we could hear the rumbling of rail-road 
 trains, and at times a confused murmuring like the cheers 
 of a distant multitude. The fire-works and cheers were in 
 honor of the Confederate President's visit to Bragg at 
 Murfreesboro, as we learned next day from prisoners. 
 
51 
 
 The hostile armies were now face to face. For five days 
 they had been pparring — one pushing, the other receding; 
 closing slowly together until the distance between them 
 was reduced to less than usual skirmish ground. The 
 struggle must come on the morrow. 
 
 How many gallant souls were sleeping then their last 
 temporal sleep ! dreaming perhaps of the homes they were 
 never more to see! 
 
 HoAV many homes and hearts far away would be swiftly 
 and forever plunged into desolation by the first news from 
 this battle-field! 
 
 With such thoughts — for '' the weary way had made us 
 melancholy" — I and my bunk-fellow bestowed ourselves 
 into a wagon, or some boxes marked "Enfield Cal. 58," 
 and there awaited the coming of the memorable last day 
 of the year. 
 
 It was not yet daylight when the mules around us, having 
 disturbed our slumber more than once during the night by 
 their kicking and rattling of chains, roused us thoroughly 
 by a concerted braying for breakfast. Our teamster friends 
 were already astir. We got up, fed and saddled our horses, 
 and breakfasted bountifully on a cracker and a half and a 
 cup of coffee. By that time the streaky clouds in the east 
 were receiving the first tints of the sun. The morning was 
 intensely cold, and a heavy frost covered everything. 
 Eiding down the turnpike to a dirt road that branched 
 westward past Grierson's house. Watts dismounted to 
 tighten his saddle-girth. He had not completed the 
 operation when we both were startled by a sharp, swift 
 volley of musketry, that echoed from beyond the cedars 
 away to the south-west. It must have been two minutes 
 before another volley was heard, deeper and heavier, 
 followed by the roar of aitillery. Quickly another crash, 
 and another roar, mingled with irregular reports; and then 
 
52 
 
 they followed each other rapidly, and seemed to be spread- 
 ing more to our front. 
 
 "Watts," said I, as we started forward again, ''that'? 
 more than a skirmish." 
 
 "Yes," said he, oracularly, pulling out his watch, "its 
 the battle of Murfreesboro, begun at ten minutes past seven 
 o'clock A.M. on the last day of the year, 1862." 
 
 On the strength of our faith in the prediction, we both 
 pulled out our note books, and recorded it in the prophet's 
 wordet. 
 
 Further on, at a clearing in the cedars, we stopped again 
 and listened to the increasing tumult of the conliict. The 
 rebel cheers, as they drove our men, were plainly audible. 
 A couple of demoralized artillerymen came hurrying out 
 of the woods from the direction of the battle, and in answer 
 to our inquiries reported an overwhelming roat — brigades 
 and regiments and bat eries surprised and broken to pieces 
 by the swiftness and vigor of the rebel attack. 
 
 But it was all important to ourselves that we should 
 hurry on. Our purpose was to get as near as possible to 
 our own lines, and follow them eastward to the Murfreesboro 
 road. Proceeding briskly along the pike, the noise of the 
 battle grew louder. Frequent stragglers came running 
 from the thicket, some mounted on mules, some on artillery 
 horses, cut from the wagons and guns. 
 
 The turn of affairs was evidently disheartening to the 
 troops. Probably not one soldier in the army had 
 anticipated such a thing as our own defeat after five days' 
 successful advance. 
 
 Emerging from the cedar-woods upon an open country, 
 the uproar of the conflict met us in full force. Haifa mile 
 distant, along tlie edge of another cedar thicket, stretched 
 a line of blue coats extending to the left across the pike 
 and into tlie woods beyond it. Here the fightini? was 
 
stubborn, and while we remained, the enemy made no 
 progress; but on the right the sound of the battle surged 
 frightfully toward the rear, and the dull, white smoke was 
 gathering heavily over the trees in that direction. 
 
 We observed, too, that the turnpike in our rear, as far 
 asthe eye could reach, was darkened with retreating troops. 
 A confused mob of soldiers, most of them Avithout arms, 
 were hurrying across the road and plunging into the cedar- 
 brakes. Great numbers, mostly wounded, were also falling 
 back from the divisions in front of us. Slowly and 
 wearily the bloody and bandaged heroes passed us by, 
 some of them horribly mutilated, yet silent in their suffer- 
 ing, and still clinging to their muskets. 
 
 A little way before us, off the road, we noticed a mount- 
 ed group, irom which occasionally an aide or orderly 
 dashed off to the iront. Evidently some one in authority 
 was there. Eiding nearer we saw in the midst of the party 
 a small, precise figure, well seated on a black hoise. There 
 was one star on his shoulder, and he was talking or giving 
 orders in a brief and quiet way. 
 
 This was Sheridan — not so famous then, but well known 
 and admired in the army. He was even then building 
 the foundation of his fame. It was his division that was 
 fighting so stoutly on the edge of the cedars, and won for 
 him that day the additional star of a JMaj or- General. 
 
 All this while the crash and roar of the battle shook the 
 earth beneath us. The rattle of musketry sounded like the 
 continuous ripping of heavy canvas : imagine that sound 
 magnified a thousand times or so, and you have an idea of 
 the noise of battle. The stragglers became more numer- 
 ous. Bullets and shells were hurtling around and over us 
 in a lively manner. The place was getting uncomfortable. 
 
 Watts and myself had no business there; we had stop- 
 ped merely out of curiosity, anyhow — so we reasoned our- 
 
54 
 
 selves very conveniently into a retreat. Following^llie strag- 
 glers, our intention v/as to make all haste across the coun- 
 try ; but passing so many wounded soldiers it occurred to 
 us to put a couple of disabled boys astride of our horees. 
 An hour's tedious meandering through the cedar wilder- 
 ness brought us to the open country, bordering the Mur- 
 freesboro road. Along the latter, and far to the left of it, wo 
 observed dark masses of troops, moving to the aid of the 
 retreating right. The country in the rear was crowded with 
 disorganized regiments; and as the waves of battle continued 
 to surge nearer from all points of the line, it became evi- 
 dent to the stupidest observer that the whole army was 
 retrograding. 
 
 teaching the Murfreesboro road, we transferred our 
 wounded freight to an ambulance, and soon found our 
 regiment, which was preparing to move. 
 
 It was about eleven o'clock when we were joined by the 
 7th Pennsylvania, and portions of the od Tennessee, and 
 2d Kentuckv Cavalry. Twelve rounds of cartridge were 
 distributed as we sat our horses. Then we rode off 
 undertheleadof Brig. Gen. D. S. Stanley, Chief of Cavalry. 
 
 It was a long and wild ride that he led us, over the 
 country on the right flank of the retreating army, crossing 
 and re-crossing Overall's Creek. Going head-long on the 
 outskirts of a wood, the column was startled by the 
 near roar of artillery beliind us. A shell exploded in our 
 midst, and it was soon discovered that a private of the 7th 
 Pennsylvania had lost an arm. Another shot came. The 
 column got restive, and the rear half made a plunge for 
 safety along a narrow road that seemed inviting; but the 
 fngitives ran straight into the arms of Wheeler's Kebel 
 Cavalry. Among these captured troopers was my boon 
 companion, Watts. 
 
55 . 
 
 Meantime, the otlier portion of the brigade was getting 
 demoralized — for tlie battery had fired a third shot-^when 
 we Avere presently reassured by the statement that tlie 
 supposed rebel gun was our own, and had fired into us by 
 mistake. Poor consolation, that, for the 7tli Pennsylvania 
 boy! 
 
 Pushing on through woods and by-roads we about four 
 o'clock emerged upon a dirt-road near the house of a Mrs. 
 Burrows. The first thing I noticed on coming into the 
 road was the dead body of a mere boy, not more than fifteen 
 years old, lying with his face half buried in a pool of mud. 
 His arm • were outstretched, and his right hand grasped the 
 barrel of an old rifle that lay beside him. In passing the 
 body I noted with a shudder that some of the horses had 
 trampled on the skull. Over a fence, just behind the boy, 
 lay an old man, he also clinging to his rifle. Both were 
 clad in the merest rags, and the old man's hat still partly 
 covered his head. They had evidently fallen at the same 
 time — the ])oy just after clearing the fence, the old man in 
 the act of climbing. 
 
 Looking off" down the field, numerous other bodies were 
 seen, some in blue uniform. In an orchard, on the other 
 side of the road, were half a dozen Union corpses, as evi- 
 denced by the absence of their overcoats and hats, and, in 
 some instances, of their shoes. The poorly-clad Confede- 
 rates could never resist the temptation to plunder a dead 
 Yankee in that manner. 
 
 We took down the fence, near the old rebel's body, and 
 filed over into the field. It was beautiful ground, covered 
 with short grass, and sloped away gently for half a mile, 
 rising into a bold ridge at the southern extremity. 
 
 Half way down the slope we formed a line of battle. I 
 looked back over our rear and distinguished a dark-blue 
 streak, stretching along the edge of some timber, about 
 
56 
 
 half a mile distant. I could see, too, ihe faint flash of a 
 bayonet now and then. We were supported by infantry, 
 it seemed — a most comforting thought. 
 
 General Stanley and staff rode slowly up and down be- 
 fore us, scanning carefully the ridge in the south. From 
 that point, evidently, the rebels were expected. The sun 
 was low in the west, when faint and confused firing was. 
 heard from the front, followed by the rapid and disorderly 
 flight of our skirmishers, back over the ridge, and from 
 the woods that covered the right of our line. Almost im- 
 mediately after, a few mounted figures appeared and halted 
 on the ridge — it was the enemy. More followed ; then a 
 long column tiled up over the hill, and down the slope a 
 short distance, where they wheeled very prettily into line. 
 A second column soon followed and performed the same 
 manoeuvre. Their skirmishers advanced boldly to the 
 base of the hill, and commenced firing at ours. There 
 was artillery, too, we noticed, posted in a clump of trees 
 on the rebel left. 
 
 Meanwhile there was agitation along our lines. Gen- 
 eral Stanley came thunderiug down from the left, and 
 stopped short before the commanding officer of the 7th 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 "Major," he said, " we'll charge them now." He then 
 dashed past us to the Tennesseeans on our right, where he 
 spoke similar Avords of cheer. Returning to the centre, he 
 said, in a voice that rang like a trumpet, 
 
 " I will take command of the I5th Pennsylvania."^' 
 
 *It was a '^iMjeliil an 1 fatlierly kiiilnois iii General Stanley to take 
 personal command of oni- little battalion, for we wore almost orphaned 
 of officers. The Colonel had been a prisoner at 11 chmond sinco the 
 battle of Antietam; the Lient.-Colonel was an invalid at Nashville, 
 whence he started with us, but was compelled to return ; tlie two 
 Majors, whom we had learned to confide in and admire, were dead. 
 Captain Vezin, to wliom tiio command had suddenly succeeded, though 
 a brave and worthy officer, was comparatively untried and unknown. 
 
57 
 
 AVith that he drew his sword, shouted the command, 
 "Draw Sabre! Charge/ Follow me ! '^ and plunged away 
 down the slope with his little brigade at his heels. 
 
 It was gallantly done. The red sunset glanced like 
 blood upon our twelve hundred blades as we swept like an 
 avalanche upon the foe. 
 
 The rebels opened upon us with artillery, and stood 
 their ground until we had come to close quarters with 
 their skirmishers. Then their first line gave way, bearing 
 back the second, the whole mass scampering off in confu- 
 sion up the ridge. Their guns were hastily limbered 
 and drawn off. In fifteen minutes from the start, not an 
 armed foe was in sight. A dozen or so were killed, and 
 over a hundred captured. Our casualties amounted to a 
 few wounded. 
 
 One of the men of my company (L),* performed an act 
 of brilliant daring. As the rebels were hurrying away he 
 dashed forward into a crowd of them, shot down the color- 
 bearer of d, regiment, snatched the flag from his grasp as he 
 fell, and bore it triumphantly but modestly to his com- 
 rades. This action was performed under the eye of General 
 Stanley, who complimented the hero on the field. 
 
 Alas ! hero though, he was — like many another of that 
 day — he did not long enjoy his laurels. Two weeks there- 
 after he died of disease in a hospital at Nashville. 
 
 The memorable day was ended, but not our danger and 
 suffering. All night long we sat on horseback in that field, 
 expecting an attack at daylight. The cold was most bitter. 
 We had eaten nothing since morning; both men and horses 
 were nearly used up. Still we were kept there, snatching 
 such sleep as we could on^liorseback, and agitating our 
 hands and feet to keep them from freezing. 
 
 Iloyt. 
 
58 
 
 When the dawn came, raw and misty, the first of the 
 New Year, it found us crusted with frost, benumbed and 
 shivering, looking wearily through leaden eyelids for the 
 expected enemy. But the rebels were probably as fagged 
 as we, for they did not appear. 
 
 At sunrise, relieved by infantry, we fell back over the 
 fields to the pike again, passing scores of corpses, frozen 
 stiff and covered with a winding-sheet of frost. Over one 
 of these bodies some friendly hand had thrown a blanket, 
 to which a scrap of paper was fastened, bearing no doubt 
 the data for a rude memorial when the burial-party should 
 come. 
 
 My story of these eventful holidays ends here. For 
 though that New Year's day was not without adventure 
 — among others a rebel attack upon a train which we were 
 escorting to Nashville — yet our participation in the great 
 battle ended with the dawn of the New Year. 
 
VI. 
 
 The Courieh Line. 
 
 Of all the duties performed by our soldiers in this war, 
 none were more dangerous or exciting than those of the 
 courier. True, the infantry and artillery fought the 
 pitched battles, and the cavalry led the advance, held the 
 outposts, or made long rides around the enemy's flanks ; 
 but they were conducted in person by officers of judgment 
 and experience, and, besides, individual danger is immea- 
 surably lessened by facing it en masse. 
 
 To the courier, however, were intrusted the written 
 commands for the movements of the army, with which he 
 was expected to make his way alone (unless particular 
 danger was foreseen) through a country that was probably 
 penetrated by the enemy's scouts or infested by the more 
 dreaded guerrillas. 
 
 We had just got settled into camp again, at Trenton, 
 Georgia, after the laborious scaling of Sand Mountain, 
 when, early one bright starry morning, the orderlies sliook 
 us out from the comfortable blankets, with injunctions to 
 pack everything and saddle up immediately. Then away 
 on a long and dusty, but -withal a pleasant, starlight ride 
 across the valley, passing the rear camps of McCook and 
 Thomas, from which the peveille wsis beating merrily in the 
 crisp morning air. These corps were on the march to cross 
 the Lookout Mountains, which loomed up grandly in the 
 distance. We were not long in discovering the nature of 
 
60 
 
 our new duties. As we proceedeil, details of five or six 
 men, under a non-commissioned officer, were left at con- 
 venient points along the road; these were stations or reliefs 
 on the courier line which we were forming. Our station 
 was the most remote from the head-quarters of the army, 
 while the constant advance of the different corps left us 
 every day more isolated. Still more trying was the fact 
 that our route to the advancing columns lay over the 
 gloomy and difficult parses of the Lookout range, to 
 surmount which taxed the utmost efforts of man and beast. 
 Those who have served only in the eastern armies can form 
 but a slight idea of the extraordinary feats of strength and 
 endurance performed by the western troops in scaling the 
 mountains of Tennessee and Georgia. The theatre of the 
 war in Virginia presents no such formidable barriers as 
 were encountered and overcome by the armed woodmen of 
 the west. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock on a cool night in the early part 
 of September. Our little cabin blazed with a cheerful fire, 
 which sent a gleam of dancing light out through the open 
 doorway and across the road. The couriers, belted and 
 spurred, stood or reclined in all sorts of positions around 
 the fire, silently awaiting despatches. "VVe had learned to 
 be expectant at night, as experience had proved that the 
 majority of the mysterious packages came through at that 
 time. Sergeant D. had just made a remark to that effect, 
 when the familiar sound of horse's feet broke upon our 
 ears. Mine were, perhaps, more alive to the sound at that 
 moment than the rest, it being my turn to carry the next 
 despatch. I walked to the door to listen. By the speed of 
 the approaching messenger, I knew that the missive he 
 carried was in haste. In advance of his arrival, therefore, 
 I proceeded to mount " Shiloh," who was in excellent trim, 
 and rubbed liis nose briskly on my shoulder as I untied 
 
61 
 
 liim. He knew right well that a long and jDerilous journey 
 was to be made, and like a brave animal as he was, his 
 nostrils snorted defiance. 
 
 In another moment the courier arrived. Sergt. D, ex- 
 amined the despatch, and handed it to me as I rode up to 
 the door. By the light from within I glanced at the 
 superscription and read: "Major General Thomas, com- 
 manding 14th Corps. Full speed.^' An instant later I was 
 galloping away. 
 
 The night was very clear, but chilly. As the cool air 
 penetrated my clothing, I found myself more than once 
 turning in the saddle to catch a farewell glimpse of the 
 bright doorway behind, and the cheerful track across the 
 road. But those beacons of comfort faded gradually in the 
 distance, and as I descended a gentle slope in the road they 
 finally disappeared. I then braced myself anew for the 
 weary ride. Four long miles to the mountains, four still 
 longer miles to climb and descend those wild gaps; and 
 Heaven only knew how much further after that, as the 
 14th Corps was probably still moving. I had traversed 
 those roads several times before at night, but on this occasion 
 they appeared to be unusually gloomy. The fenceless fields 
 by which I swept seemed more forlorn than ii=ual ; the 
 woods were darker through which I felt my way; the hideous 
 cry of the owls seemed to fill the air with demon voices. 
 I could not shake from me the presentiment of some im- 
 pending evil. Instinctiv-ely my hand sought the revolver 
 at my side, and half-cocked it. The action caused Sliiloh 
 to prick up his ears and increase his .speed, and in a short 
 time I found myself under the bold brow of Lookout, 
 which shut out half the heavens, and rendered the darkness 
 more intense. The approach to the mountain lies through 
 a dense woods, along the outer skirt of which flowed a small 
 stream, rippling musically in its narrow bed. Approach- 
 
62 
 
 ing the creek, I loosened the rein in order to allow my 
 horse to drink, as he was accustomed to do at this place. 
 The banks were rather steep, and as he lowered his nose 
 and was about to feel his way into the water, the woods 
 behind were torn into a million echoes by the report of a 
 rifle! At the same time my horse plunged madly forward 
 into the creek, lost his footing, and we both went down 
 together. It will readily be believed that I was scared; but 
 I preserved sufficient presence of mind to disengage my 
 feet from the stirrups and to draw my pistol, which I held 
 up out of the water. The current of the stream was neither 
 deep nor strong, so that Shiloh and myself soon regained 
 our feet, and made all haste up the opposite bank. It was 
 not until that moment that I noticed a mounted figure 
 darkly outlined on the other side of the stream. It was 
 my would-be murderer, who had doubtless expected to find 
 me dead or disabled. I gave him a positive assurance to 
 the contrary by discharging a shot at him, which caused 
 the figure to disappear as suddenly as it had come. I 
 listened to the sound of the rascal's retreat until it died 
 away in the distance. Then, wringing some of the water 
 out of my clothes, and remounting, I pushed forward with 
 all speed from what appeared to be a dangerous locality. 
 But my horse had not proceeded twenty yards before I 
 perceived that his strength was failing. His steps lagged 
 more and more every moment, in spite of my utmost efforts 
 to urge him forward. With a heavy heart I dismounted 
 and examined him. My fears proved too true: he was 
 wounded. I felt a perforation in his groin, from which the 
 warm blood oozed slowly down his flanks. The brave 
 beast finally succumbed, and with a deep drawn sigh 
 staggered heavily to the ground. For awhile my own 
 danger was forgotten in sympathy for the poor horse. He 
 had borne me faithfully and well through a thousand perils^ 
 
63 
 
 and now he was giving up his life in my service. I am 
 not ashamed to confess that the expiring breath of Shiloh 
 as it ascended from those wild woods wrung from my eyes 
 a tear of anguish and regret, though longaslranger to the 
 " melting mood." 
 
 My situation was certainly alarming. The bushwhack- 
 er might follow me, and it was equally probable that oth- 
 ers of his flan were lying in advance, to make sure of the 
 victim. Those dreadful marauders seldom traveled alone. 
 
 For aught I knew their practiced eyes might even then 
 be staring through the darkness around me. For a 
 moment or two I was in a painful state of indecision. In 
 night rides I had always trusted implicitly to the instinct of 
 my horse; but now that resource was denied me, and my 
 topographical instincts were none of the best. Should I 
 make my way back to the station, remount and bring a 
 <3omrade with me? Perish the thought! I said. A 
 feeling of pride determined me to go forward at all haz- 
 ards and deliver my despatch. Quickly stripping the 
 bridle, blanket, and saddle-bags from the dead animal, 
 and securing them about my person, I gave my belt an 
 extra hitch, bade a mental farewell to the carcass of Shiloh, 
 and started forward. 
 
 By the position of the few stars that were visible I 
 assumed the time to be near midnight. The road up the 
 mountain was fearfully trying to legs and wind. For two 
 hours (as I judged) I clambered up the rockj way, stopping 
 every hundred yards to rest my limbs and fill my exhaust- 
 ed lungs. The air grew colder as I neared the summit, 
 and the heavy dew saturated my cap and great-coat, already 
 well soaked in the creek. It was growing lighter, too, as 
 I ascended. I turned at times to look off into the valley 
 behind, which stretched away dark and shadowy to the 
 horizon. Almost beneath my feet, as it seemed, I caught 
 
64 
 
 an occasional glimpse of a gleam of light, which twinkled 
 in the distance like a star. It was the bright doorway I 
 had left behind. How like home it seemed, then, in the 
 rude walls of the courier's hut ! 
 
 But like the " Excelsior " boy, I turned away with a 
 sigh from the " household fires," and bent my steps again 
 toward the summit. I had not gone far when "Haiti 
 who comes there ? " yelled out shrill and clear, as if from 
 the clouds. The unexpected challenge thrilled me to the 
 marrow. Was it a rebel or a Union picket ? The 
 lightning-like process by which I arrived at the conclusion 
 that my challenger was a Federal sentry, is long since 
 forgotten; but to such a conclusion I did arrive in an 
 instant. Answering — 
 
 "A courier with despatches," 
 
 "Dismount, courier, and advance," he replied. 
 
 As I was already dismounted — and would have been on 
 those steeps, even if I had had my horse — I proceeded to 
 obey the latter part of the injunction. I had gone but a 
 few yards, however, when I was halted again. " Where's 
 your horse " ? inquired the sentinel, who was evidently 
 growing suspicious. This question led to an explanation 
 of affairs ; and in a short time I was the centre of a gaping 
 crowd on the mountain top, to whom I related my adven- 
 ture in the valley. My listeners were a portion of 
 Harrison's Mounted Infantry, who were returning from a 
 scout. I hold in grateful remembrance a tin-cup full of 
 hot coffee, which one of these brave boys prepared for my 
 benefit. I think they called him " Gussy." Long may he 
 wave! unless, poor fellow, he sleeps under the blood- 
 soaked soil of Chickamauga, the omens of which conflict 
 were then gathering at the front. Aided by the advice of 
 these boys, and a captured mule which they loaned me, I 
 was not long in finding the way into the other valley,, 
 
65 
 
 where the newly risen sun and freshly traveled roads en- 
 abled me to keep track of the 14th Corps. I found the 
 Head-Quarters of Pap Thomas in the saddle, and delivered 
 my despatch to one of his staff. 
 
VII. 
 
 Chickamauga — Lookout Moun- 
 
 tain. 
 
 It was the night of September 19, 1863. The first day 
 of the awful conflict on "Dead Man's Eiver" had passed 
 into history — a bloody page. The contending armies, 
 mutually exhausted, sank down among the dead in those 
 dark forests to snatcli a few hours rest ere the sun should 
 light them again to the murderous work of battle. 
 
 Our company had moved in the morning from Craw- 
 fish Springs with the head-quarters train, and since 3 P.M. 
 had been standing to horse towards the extreme left, a little 
 east of the Eossville road. Here we had snuffed the odor 
 of the battle on our right, and listened impatiently to the 
 crash and roar, the yell of the charge, and the cheer of the 
 repulse. But we could see nothing of the troops, save a 
 frequent straggler looking for, or skulking from, his 
 regiment, and more frequently a wounded soldier seeking 
 a surgeon. The ambulances, too, rolled by us constantly 
 with their freight of human suffering. Towards evening 
 Minty's splendid brigade of horsemen trotted past us in 
 the direction of Eossville, to meet the enemy's cavalry in 
 our rear. Only those who have experienced the feeling 
 can know the misery of inactivity on the field of battle. 
 
 Now that night had fallen, and the fight died away — 
 the result of it, too, being doubtful — we began to grow ex- 
 
67 
 
 ceedingly restive. Our Lieutenant Commanding rode 
 uneasily up and down in front of u?. He evidently shared 
 our anxiety. I tliink he would soon have taken the re- 
 sponsibility of moving somewhere, had we not heard the 
 sound of rapid hoofs down the road. The command 
 mounted in a twinkling, and awaited developments, 
 which might be the firing of our videttes, or the welcome 
 appearance of a courier. It was a courier, bringing orders 
 for us to mal^e all haste to Chattanooga. 
 
 We had now something active to do, and we did it. 
 A wild and breathless ride ensued. The road was inches 
 deep with dust, and it was rarely that a trooper could see 
 the head of the horse that carried him. Occasionally, 
 though, a little breeze wafted the dust clouds away, reveal- 
 ing a hazy moon, and along our left the low dark ridges of 
 the Mission Hills, overshadowed by the lofty range of 
 Lookout. 
 
 We overtook thousands of silent stragglers, many of them 
 wounded ; and picked our way through miles of wagons, 
 falling back to the Tennessee. At John Eoss's house — 
 called ''Rossville" — we found the reserve corps of Gordon 
 Granger resting on their arms. We halted for a short 
 time among the Ohio boys of General Steadman, who little 
 dreamed that their timely march on the morrow would 
 save the hard-pressed heroes on the Chickamauga. Moving 
 on again, through dust thick enough to cut with our sabres, 
 we reached Chattanooga about midnight. Utterly worn 
 out— for we had been unusually active on the courier line, 
 and for four days past had not unsaddled — men and beasts 
 threw themselves on the ground at the rail-road depot and 
 slept. 
 
 The dawn of Sunday, the 20th September, gave us our 
 first view of the objective point of the campaign. 
 
68 
 
 The first object that challenged "attention was the mag- 
 nificent dark blue front of Lookout Mountain, wreathed 
 in the vai3ors that rose like incense from the river at its 
 feet. The sun, though to us unrisen, tipped the bald pate 
 of the mountain with a golden streak, while the ridges and 
 valleys below yet lay in the mists of early dawn. 
 
 The town — itself a straggling, disordered place — was full 
 of straggling soldiers. Wagon trains crowded through 
 the town and rumbled over the pontoons to the north side 
 of the Tennessee. 
 
 Meanwhile we breakfasted on the remnants of our rations 
 issued three days previous, and drew quarter rations for 
 two days more. The memorable starving time, which for 
 the rest of the army, began Avith the siege, commenced for 
 us on this Sunday morning. Not that provisions were 
 scarce, but the Commissary Department had probably 
 already received orders to hoard up their stores. For the 
 horses we were compelled to cross the river and rummage 
 some miles, through a well gleaned country, before we 
 could find them a little fodder. 
 
 Keturning to the river we bivouaced on the north bank 
 in front of the town. Here we lay throughout that long, 
 eventful Sunday, watching the arrival of the immense 
 wagon trains, and listening to the thunder o^ Thomas's 
 magnificent fight. 
 
 About the middle. of the afternoon a bustle and excite- 
 ment was noticeable in the town. Orderlies galloped 
 hurriedly about; staflTofficers appeared and assumed authori- 
 ty; stragglers were picked up by armed j^atrols and march- 
 ed away. Order seemed to spring up all around as if by 
 magic. Soon it was whispered around that the command- 
 in"- General had arrived. After awhile shouts and cheers 
 were audible away out on tlie plain toward the mountain, 
 and then along the lines nearer and nearer, until we could 
 
69 
 
 see the commotion at the river above us. "Old Rosey" 
 was there, sure enough ; it was his presence that brought 
 order and enthusiasm out of chaos and despair. Later in 
 the afternoon the fact became known that Generals McCook 
 and Crittenden had also arrived from the front, followed 
 by depressing rumors of their corps having been cut to 
 pieces.* 
 
 That Sunday night is one of fearful memory. Where 
 was the army? what was to be our fate ? were the queries 
 in every mind. The reports brought in by teamsters and 
 others led us to fear the worst. 
 
 All night long the wagons and stragglers poured in on 
 the different roads— the stragglers being promptly put out 
 in the trenches, where, 
 
 "By the strua;gling mooubeam's misty light, 
 And the lanterns dimly burning," 
 
 they vigorously plied the pick and shovel, under the 
 direction of Rosecrans and his engineers, throwing up a 
 line of works from the mountain's base to the river. 
 
 On Monday we had a little diversion. We received orders 
 to climb Lookout Mountain, scout the approaches to the 
 
 *The reader will understand that this chapter records only the move- 
 ments made and scenes witnessed by the Company (L) to which the 
 author belonged. The main portion of the regiment, under Colonel 
 Wm. .T. Palmer, remained on the field during both days of the battle 
 rendering important service as couriers, orderlies, and escort. When 
 Davis's division gave way on Sunday, the Anderson Cavalry had the 
 delicate and difficult task of arresting the flying troops. An eye-witnesa 
 of the scene (Sergt. Wm. Gable, Co. I) relates that in the height of the 
 tumult and confusion Major General McCook and staff rode up ; and to 
 a question from an officer of the Anderson Cavalry as to where he should 
 place his men to be most effective, the General replied, excitedly: "Back, 
 back to Chattanooga — every man must get back to Chattanooga." And 
 soon after away went the commander of the 20th Corps, obeying his own 
 injunction. But Old Roman Thomas did not th:nk it necessary to get 
 back so hurriedly! 
 
 7 
 
70 
 
 summit, and guard the signal station there, the flags of 
 of which we could plainly see from over the river. It 
 was highly important to retain so splendid a position as 
 long as possible in view of the occupation of Chattanooga 
 by our forces, and the consequent following up of Bragg's, 
 who would thus place himself directly under our telescopes 
 
 Leaving our wagons, therefore — virtually cutting loose 
 from our base — we re-crossed the river and made our way 
 over the plain, now tumbled up into formidable earth- 
 works, to the mountain. As an illustiation of the growing 
 scarcity of hard-tack, it may be stated that in passing 
 through the town some keen-scented trooper found a negro 
 man with a lot of musty ginger-bread to sell, in pieces no 
 larger than a man's hand, at fifty cents each. Federal 
 currency. His stock, some dozen pieces, was bought out 
 in less time than I have taken to tell it. 
 
 But O ! that weary, panting, exhausting ascent of 
 Lookout Mountain ! leading, almost dragging, our weak- 
 legged Kosinantes ; sinking down in our tracks every ten 
 minutes to rest and gasp for breath. Not the magnificent 
 views that stretched away below us, nor the significant 
 boom of artillery that occasionally came up, nor the 
 portentous clouds of dust that hovered over the Mission 
 Hills, could rouse our senses from the lethargy of fatigue. 
 Mechanically we toiled onward and upward; and when at 
 length, about noon, the upper level was reached, the entire 
 party, biped and quadruped, sank gasping and quivering 
 upon the rocks. 
 
 Three hours later we had recovered sufficiently to drag 
 ourselves up the plateau to Summertown. This was a 
 handsome little place, a noted resort of the chivalry, and 
 contained an immense hotel, into which we incontinently 
 bestowed ourselves. Evidences of hasty evacuation were 
 visible on all hands ; but we found scattered through the 
 
71 
 
 big rooms almost every physical and cesthetical comfort 
 commonly kept in hotels. I except the very essential one 
 of food. Pianos, sofas, chairs, bedsteads and feather beds, 
 statuettes, books, crockery-Avare and cooking utensils — 
 these we found in abundance ; but not a scrap of any thing 
 eatable. 
 
 The village was utterly deserted, save by two women and 
 some children, who peered from the windows in great 
 alarm. Finding, however, that we made no attempt to 
 molest them, or to appropriate their little store of corn 
 meal, they soon became friendly and communicative. 
 
 The signal officer, with his corps of three men, was 
 stationed on a projecting rock, a little distance above the 
 hotel. The position afforded a visual sweep that seemed 
 to take in the entire South. 
 
 We remained here only a little while. The roads were 
 to be picketed, forage must be found. Leaving a detach- 
 ment at the station, we groped our way through the pitchy 
 darkness for six or seven miles down the ridge. Not a 
 living thing was encountered in our travels, excejit a sleep- 
 ing cavalryman and his horse, whom we found at midnight 
 under a tree in the woods, and at first took for a napping 
 rebel picket ; but he turned out to be a member of the 12th 
 Kentucky (Union) Cavalry, which regiment had been cut 
 to pieces in the valley. 
 
 For the rest of the night we picketed the roads leading 
 up from east to south. It was my fate to be placed at the 
 farthest outpost on the southern road, over a mile from 
 the reserve. By this road it was almost certain the enemy 
 would make his approach — whether that night or not was 
 the only question. O the interminable length of those 
 *' wee sma' hours," when Birney and I stood to horse just 
 inside the thickets, cold, weary, half starved, and half 
 asleep, awaiting the tardy dawn! We expected every 
 
72 
 
 moment to hear the sound of hostile hoofs. It seemed as 
 if daylight would never come. Nor was it the least part 
 of our misery to see our poor brute companions gnawing 
 the bushes around them in the extremity of their hunger- 
 When at last the welcome sun gilded the tree tops above 
 us, and brought a recall, we returned sore and famished to 
 our no less suffering comrades. 
 
 Eeturning to Summertown we found that the army had 
 fallen back during the night, and was occupying the hastily 
 built works around Chattanooga. It was probable, therefore, 
 that the rebel Cavalry were already swarming around the 
 mountain, cutting off our escape. Starvation or captivity 
 — the alternatives seemed about equal. So we looked upon 
 them with the stolidity of veterans, thrumming the pianos 
 and lounging on the sofas and beds, trusting in Heaven 
 and Eosecrans for deliverance. 
 
 On this day — the 22d of September — it was our good 
 fortune to witness scenes, which, as viewed by us, have 
 probably had no parallel in this war, and which rendered 
 us for a time oblivious of danger and physical privations, 
 albeit ''the difficult air of the mountain top" increased the 
 keenness of our hunger. 
 
 The day was calm and clear. From the overhanging 
 cliffs we beheld the country mapped out beneath us for fifty 
 miles around. As far as the eye coald separate them, 
 appeared an agreeable diversity of wooded ridge and open 
 plain, bathed in the sunlight, rich in the blended variety 
 of early autumn tints, through which from east to west the 
 silvery stream of the Tennessee wound its crooked way. 
 In the dim distance, on every hand, the hills and mountain 
 spurs rolled away in purple billows to the horizon. Far 
 off in the south-east the air still looked heavy with the 
 smoke and dust of battle. Directly under our feet, as it 
 seemed, lay Chattanooga, — an infinitesimal "city" — encir- 
 
cled by yellow lines of earthworks, wliich extended 
 unbrokenly from the mountain to the river. An inner 
 circle of dark blue was still more apparent, from which 
 the bayonets and colors gleamed in the sunlight — as though 
 visibly tipped with the glory of as gallant a fight as any in 
 history. 
 
 In rear of the lines the plain and town were dotted with 
 innumerable "dog tents," looking at that distance like 
 clustei's of snow-balls. Over the river were vast parks of 
 wagons, covering many acres, but at our height apparently 
 spread over a few square yards. Still through the town, 
 and over the thread-like pontoons, crawled long lines of 
 diminutive white wagons, each one a Queen Mab's chariot, 
 
 " Drawn by a team of little atomies ! " 
 
 That was an absorbed group that watched these scenes 
 from Lookout Mountain. The signal officer kept his eye 
 glued to his glass, which was trained upoo the approaches 
 to Chattanooga. He evidently expected the appearance of 
 the rebels. Every eye around him was on the watch, every 
 tongue silent. Soon the atmosphere beyond the Mission 
 ridges grew hazy, and small clouds of dust rose slowly in 
 the air. The excitement of our party at this moment was 
 intense, but the stillness was so profound that thG^music of a 
 band in Chattanooga was distinctly heard. Suddenly the 
 signal officer slapped his knee and exclaimed quietly, 
 "They are coming" ! at the same time giving some orders 
 to his flagmen, who, screened by a thicket from the enemy's 
 observation, waved their colors vigorously. Sure enough, 
 when a pufi of wind lifted the hazy vail in the distance 
 there appeared small squads of horsemen coming cautious- 
 ly forward on the Rossville and Dry Valley roads. Behind 
 them other distinct clouds arose, from which larger bodies 
 of cavalry emerged. Simultaneously, on another road 
 
74 
 
 further south, leading over the ridges beneath us, lilce a 
 scene occnrred, and I was able to distinguish the flags of 
 these parties, and the colors of their horses. In a moment 
 more little pufF? of white smoke floating up from the roads - 
 and the trees, followed by the faint rattle of carbines, told 
 that the pickets of the two armies had met again. And 
 now while we gazed, long, gray columns of infantry and 
 strings of artillery appeared upon the roads, barely 
 distinguishable from the clouds of dust which they created. 
 One gun was seen to move into an open field, between the 
 two main columns of the enemy. Immediately thereafter 
 a dull red flash came from the spot, followed by the un- 
 mistakeable crash of a Napoleon gun. Instantly our guns 
 replied ; and for a little while there was a beautiful artillery 
 skirmish, every shot being plainly visible to ns. The rebel 
 gun was the first to be silent, and we saw it withdrawn. 
 
 All this while, and for the rest ofthe day, the rebel columns 
 continued to crawl over the hills like a swarm of insects, 
 settling down into the fields, or disappearing in the woods. 
 As their lines extended and developed ours, the skirmish- 
 ing became sharper and heavier, rising at times into the 
 genuine roar of battle. 
 
 Who of the few that saw that sight can ever forget it? 
 Were we to witness a still grander scene, an assault upon 
 our works? If Bragg had any such notion at five o'clock 
 — at which time the skirmishing was heaviest — his purpose 
 was changed before night-fall. For as the mighty shadow 
 of Lookout crept over the two armies, the fight dwindled 
 away to a straggling picket fire, and here and there along 
 both lines the bright twinkle of bivouac fires appeared, 
 emerging with the stars and apparently in similar numbers. 
 Two parallel semi-circles of blinking light, broken in spots 
 by intervening woods, marked the opposing armies. 
 
.75 
 
 I reclined on a ledge of rock for some hours, looking off 
 upon this grand historic scene, listening to the rifle crackpj 
 and between them tothe confused murmur of the camps, 
 the music of the bands, and the occasional cheer of some 
 enthusiastic regiment. 
 
 But the night dews were gathering heavily ; so taking 
 one last comprehensive look, I reluctantly withdrevr to the 
 hotel, where I bestowed myself between two feather beds — 
 not without apprehension lest, before morning, a rebel sabre 
 or bayonet should pin me there forever. 
 
 T!ie sun was high when I got up — for no early bugle 
 was allowed to wake the mountain echoes. Looking over 
 the rocks, the blue army and the gray still confronted each 
 other, but in quiet. Both had, as if by tacit consent, ceased 
 for awhile to murder pickets. But the Union colors and 
 steel gleamed out proudly along the yellow works, and 
 bands of music filled the air with defiant notes. 
 
 They Avere ready for Bragg's assault. 
 
 But Bragg was settling quietly down into his memorable 
 seige, confident of receiving in due time the surrender of 
 an emaciated and starving army. Things looked well for 
 the Confederacy in this quarter. Nor was the Federal 
 army without those who feared that our successes at 
 Yicksburg and Gettysburg were about to be balanced. 
 
 It now became necessary to look more closely to our own 
 safety. The rebels swarmed about the eastern base of the 
 mountain; their outposts were perhaps pushed half-Avay to 
 the summit, on the only road by which we could descend. 
 It was not probable that they would permit another day to 
 pass before feeling their way to our retreat. Our provis- 
 ions were absolutely gone ; horses and men were ravenous. 
 
 To attempt cutting our way through, even if we had 
 fed on capons and oats, would have been folly. A party 
 went down the ridge on the western side in hopes of find- 
 
76 
 
 ing a descent into Lookout valley. The boys might have 
 climbed or tumbled down, but there was no visible foot- 
 bold for a horse, except at the Gaps, many miles below. 
 
 The fatigues and privations we had undergone produced 
 a feeling of indifference as to our fate; and as we returned, 
 slowly and despairingly, to Sumraertown, every mind was 
 made up to submit with a stolid grace to (apparently) 
 inevitable capture. But, reaching the signal station, we 
 found a stranger there — externally a butternut, tho' really 
 a noted Federal scout. He was a young man, and for years 
 had passed almost daily through perils that would have 
 whitened the hair of ordinary men ; yet he was as fresh as 
 a daisy, quick, but quiet and collected, with clear steel-gray 
 eyes that seemed the very incarnation of cool courage. 
 
 Our friend was fresh from the rebel lines, which he 
 reported in close proximity. A council of war was held, 
 and the situation was thoroughly canvassed. The scout 
 volunteered to conduct us down by a route known only to 
 himself, and that extremely hazardous. We felt that it 
 must indeed be so when he asked for a suit of our regimen- 
 tals — for if found by the enemy leading us in his butternut 
 jeans he would have swung for it to the first tree. We 
 assorted a suit for him from the contents of our saddle- 
 bags, and he was soon metamorphosed into a Federal 
 trooper. 
 
 At noon, all things being ready — pistols and carbines, 
 carefully loaded and capped — we followed our guide down 
 the road by which we had ascended, pulling our skeleton 
 beasis after us. The gloomy and silent woods below were 
 thoroughly scanned as we proceeded, lest a lurking ambush 
 should start up around. Our footsteps in the dust sounded 
 painfully loud. The occasional stumbling of a horse or 
 bouncing of a loosened stone down the declivity, startled 
 the echoes like a rebel veil. After traveling thus for a 
 
77 
 
 half hour or so, we stopped at a sudden sign from the scout 
 He went on down the road some distance, and laid himself 
 flat on the road-side, with his ear to the ground; then 
 rising, he seemed to examine the trees. His actions were 
 as intelligible as a pantomine. "We all correctly under- 
 stood them to mean that the enemy was but a little way 
 below us and it was not safe to go any further. We now 
 followed him away from the road; directly northward along 
 the steep mountain side. Climbing over boulders, rocks 
 and fallen timber ; wading knee-deep through fallen leaves 
 and twigs ; scrambling through bushes and thorn-trees — 
 such was the exhausting labyrinth through which we toiled 
 for hours. It was with incredible difficulty that our 
 miserable beasts were dragged and cufTed along. There 
 was no sign of a path, save to the practised eye of the guide, 
 to Avhom every rock and tree was no doubt familiar. 
 
 We now heard the renewed picket skirmish, which 
 sounded as though but a little way below us, and might at 
 any moment burst into view. 
 
 Suddenly the loud "Halt" ! of a picket echoed and re- 
 echoed around. Reins were dropped in trepidation, and 
 carbines were clutched — but only for an instant. There 
 before us, not twenty yards away, a tall blue-coated soldier 
 stepped out from behind a tree. Safe at last ! was the ex- 
 clamation of hearts that had stood still for two hours. 
 
 Sliding down the steep paths to Chatanooga creek, which 
 we crossed under the rail road bridge, we made an entry 
 once more into Chattanooga, a happy, but sore and starv- 
 ing troop. 
 
 The morning after these adventures revealed the rebel 
 colors floating from the top of Lookout Mountain ! 
 
/ 
 
 PPENDIX. 
 
 An Account of the Mutiny in the Anderson Cavalry, at 
 Nashville, Tenn., December, 1S62. 
 
 To THE Author of the " Leaves " : 
 
 My Dear Captain: — At the repeated requests ,of 
 many of those most interested I avail myself of the 
 opportunity you offer me to publish a statement of the 
 troubles in the Anderson Cavalry known as the " Mutiny." 
 Such a statement has, I believe, long been expected from 
 me on account of the peculiar position I occupied in the 
 organization for some time previous to and following the 
 outbreak. I was the only member of the regiment who 
 received a commission in it until after the troubles had 
 subsided ; and in my capacity as Commissary and acting 
 Quartermaster I was brought into intimate contact with all 
 parties. I was also placed in command of the camp of the 
 mutineers until their arrest by the authorities ; made it a 
 part of my duty to be among them as much as possible 
 during their confinement; and was placed in command of 
 them again when they were removed to the barracks pre- 
 paratory to re-organization. 
 
 It is never too late to correct wrong impressions. I 
 have always considered it due to the men, to their friends, 
 and to history, that some attempt should be made to clear 
 away the doubt that still, with many people, obscures the 
 fair fame of the regiment. If my statement, offered, as I 
 
79 
 
 have said, in compliance with repeated requests, shall tend 
 at this late day to re-open old sores and to revive unpleas- 
 ant controversies, no one will regret that result more than 
 myself; but while I shall endeavor in this brief narrative 
 to maintain an impartiality that cannot be misrepresented 
 nor misunderstood, I propose to write what I believe to be 
 the truth, holding myself, of course, responsible for all my 
 statements, and ready if called upon either to reiterate or 
 retract, according as I am confirmed of truth or convinced 
 of error. 
 
 The personnel of the regiment caused it to be regarded 
 with jealousy at the start. Enlisting was then (1862) no 
 longer looked upon as going on '• Governor Seward's three 
 months' picnic." There were many young men, who 
 while anxions to enter the service, were averse to forced 
 association with a class that frequently composed our east- 
 ern regiments. Captain Palmer's shrewd knowledge of 
 human nature led him to sieze the opportunity for so 
 golden a harvest. He obtained .authority to raise a 
 battalion of 400 men, to be strictly confined to the class of 
 young men above referred to; and then was seen the 
 singular military spectacle of the recruit presenting him- 
 self for enlistment with letters of recommendation from 
 reputable parties, which might or might not obtain his 
 admission to the surgeon. The success of the plan was so 
 speedy and immense that after the battalion had been 
 obtained, the recruiting went on unchecked, and in the 
 course of a month there was gathered in camp at Carlisle 
 aregiment of men, the like of which, I venture to say, never 
 before entered into the composition of an army. 
 
 But this great success was one of the principal sources 
 of the subsequent troubles. It is impossible for one man 
 to organize, equip, and discipline a regiment; yet Captain 
 Palmer attempted it alone, though afterward aided by an 
 
80 
 
 officer who was an invalid. This officer being in charge 
 of camp, was in the habit — possibly from indisposition — of 
 leaving the command every night to a private of another 
 organization. Indeed for a period of about two months 
 this large body of men was left almost alone, without even 
 a non-commissioned officer in camp. 
 
 Beginning their military life under such neglect, with 
 accommodations more wretched and scanty than they ever 
 afterwards possessed in the field, with arms and accoutre- 
 ments that were the condemned refuse of the Indian wars^ 
 it is not strange that the spirit of discontent should have 
 started up among these men. And it is a splendid proof of 
 their intelligence and patriotism that,notwithstanding these 
 depressing influences, there was no disorder in the camp, 
 and but three desertions. 
 
 I have said that the command was often left "to a private 
 of another organization." This introduces a subject which 
 I approach with regret, but cannot avoid, as it involves the 
 chief cause of the subsequent disorders. The organization 
 alluded to was called the "Anderson Troop," a company of 
 100 men selected from all parts of the state, recruited for 
 and serving as the body-guard or escort of Maj. Gen. Buell. 
 They had been officially reported to be the finest body of 
 men in the western army. 
 
 Many people supposed then — and do still — that this 
 "Anderson Troop" and the "Anderson Cavalry" were 
 one and the same. So, indeed, they should have been, and 
 so, apparently, was the original intention, for there was a 
 general understanding among the members of the Cavalry 
 that the "Old Troop" (as the body-guard was called) was 
 to be company "A" of the new regiment ; in fact the first 
 company of the Cavalry, in its original organization, was 
 always designated as " B." 
 
81 
 
 But it soon became apparent that the interests of these 
 two bodies were not identical. Wliat arrangements or 
 promises Captain Palmer made with the gentlemen of the 
 body-guard have never transpired ; but it speedily became 
 obvious to the Cavalry that there was a scrambling 
 rivalry among the former for the commissions in the new 
 regiment. The rivalry between those who had been 
 detailed to assist in the recruiting and those who still 
 remained in the field, ran very high. Every man of them 
 looked upon himself as the heir apparent to a commission. 
 I say this in no disparagement of their ambition, which 
 was natural and laudable ; but they made the fatal mistake, 
 in thus seeking their own promotion, of assuming that the 
 commissions belonged only to them— that the regiment 
 was their exclusive property by virtue of their belonging 
 to the body-guard — that the men whom they assumed to 
 command "had no rights which they were bound to 
 respect." As there was scarcely a man in the Cavalry 
 who would not have honored a commission, they, as may 
 be supposed, looked upon this appropriation of themselves 
 with no great meekness. Witnessing the rivalry, suffering 
 from the consequent delays and neglect, was it unreasonable 
 that the men began at length to feel that they had been en- 
 listed not for the good of the service, but for the purporJc of 
 furnishing commissions to a body of men who looked upon 
 them as their aristocratic right? Could they fail to trace 
 out comparisons between this state of affairs, with their 
 consequent ill condition and prospects, and what might 
 have existed if their organization had been properly and 
 speedily effected in accordance with regulations ? 
 
 The consequence was that there arose in the regiment 
 
 a wide-spread distrust of Captain Palmer and the body 
 
 guard. Although the former was unknown to and had 
 
 never been seen by most of the men, vet, owing to the state 
 
 8 
 
82 
 
 of things above narrated, all his measures and proposals 
 looking to the special service for which the regiment had 
 been raised were regarded with suspicion, and even met 
 with opposition and rebuff. 
 
 Here let me say in justice to Captain Palmer that when 
 he became cognizant of the manner in which the camp at 
 Carlisle had been mismanaged and neglected, he expressed 
 strong displeasure. I am willing to believe that he had 
 not anticipated, and is still unconscious of, the extent and 
 bitterness of the scramble for power among his old sub- 
 ordinates. 
 
 To show the disordered state of affairs at this time, I will 
 here state a few facts. The Captain being in Rebel hands^ 
 and the Lieutenant being sick, the command of the 
 Cavalry devolved upon the Orderly Sergeant of the 
 body-guard. By his order I took possession of such papers 
 relating to the Commissary and Quartermaster departments 
 as could be found ; but it was impossible to tell what re- 
 quisitions had been made, or how and upon whom they had 
 been drawn. Investigations, laborious and protracted, re- 
 vealed that a portion of our- stores had been sent to the 
 front, and had been in possession of the enemy. Special 
 inquiries were made at the State capital, and the officer in 
 charge of the Quartermaster's department there said " that 
 he did not know that we had any right to draw through 
 the State authorities, as neither himself nor the Adjutant- 
 General of the State knew whether we belonged to the State 
 or to the General Government." 
 
 Governor Curtin said ''that he had been trj^ing to get 
 control of the regiment, but had not succeeded ; that the 
 whole matter of the previous requisitions had been hurried 
 through in a very loose way, and that it was now time to 
 come down to some system about it ; that if he had control 
 of us, things would be brought up with a round turn." 
 
83 
 
 I also found that there was not even a roster of the 
 Tegiment, and I had one prepared in the camp for my own 
 use, showing an aggregate of 994 enlisted men. To com- 
 mand this full regiment there were less than a dozen 
 officers commissioned at Carlisle. 
 
 Putting all these facts together — and many minor ones 
 which the limits of this letter exclude— the men of the 
 Cavalry began to fear that there had been no authority 
 to recruit more than the one battalion originally proposed ; 
 that the true cause of the disorganized condition of the 
 command was the absence of authority to organize. And 
 yet such was the devotion of these men to themselves as a 
 body, such the strength of their hope in the future, that 
 when, after the campaign of Antietam, .a great majority of 
 them were furloughed in the loosest way — some even 
 verbally — there was not a single desertion. 
 
 A little more evidence of the bad condition of things. 
 Before the gentlemen of the body-guard had received their 
 commissions, the duty of drilling the Cavalry was per- 
 formed by Sergeants and Corporals of the barracks ; but 
 now, after being fully clothed with the long looked for 
 authority, the new officers continued to permit their men 
 to be drilled as before, and did not personally attend to 
 their duties. This abuse became at last so flagrant that 
 Captain Ward, who Avas then commanding, found no other 
 remedy than to remove the camp from the vicinity of the 
 barracks to the other side of the town. 
 
 Having been appointed acting Q. M. Sergeant (as a 
 "temporary arrangement")* and orders read that I was 
 
 *Everj' Anclersou Cavalryman will understand the application of this 
 phrase; but to others some explanation is necessarj\ Be it known, 
 then, that for a long time the orders issued to the regiment at Carlisle 
 always bore these words as a preface or appendix, qualifying appoint- 
 ments, regulations, details, etc., as so many "temporary arrangements." 
 
84 
 
 to be obeyed and respected accordingly, I went to the 
 barracks to attend to my duties as usual (having done so 
 for two months) when I found a member of the body-guard 
 there before me. He was there by orders from the Lt. 
 Colonel of the regiment (late Lieutenant of the body- 
 guard.) Notwithstanding my long occupation of the 
 position, being only a private of the Cavalry it was not 
 considered worth while to give me any official notice of 
 having been relieved. 
 
 On my way back to camp I was overtaken by an orderly 
 with orders to me to report immediately to Captain 
 Hastings, U. S. A., commanding the barracks and Post. 
 He said to me : "I have sent marching orders to your camp, 
 but no notice has been taken of them. When will you 
 leave ? " 
 
 I told the Captain that I was only a private soldier ; had 
 been up to that evening, acting as Quartermaster, but 
 finding another attending to the duties of that position,, 
 supposed I has been relieved. 
 
 ''I dont know," said he, " what your position is, nor can 
 I understand how your regiment is organized ; but I learn 
 from my subordinates that you are the only executive 
 officer in the command who can give me the necessary 
 information." 
 
 While Captain Hastings was still talking to me the 
 Lieut.-Colonel of the Cavalry was announced. He had 
 been a sergeant at these barracks, under the veteran who 
 still commanded there, and was subsequently (as has been 
 stated) Lieutenant of Buell's body-guard. As he entered 
 
 What the permanent arrangements were intended to be will probablj' 
 never be made known. This unhappy designation came at length to be 
 regarded as fatally bound up with the affairs of the organization, and 
 passed into a regimental proverb. 
 
85 
 
 in full uniform the Captain U. S. A. arose and saluted his 
 superior officer. Here, then, was the explanation of the 
 indifference to the marching orders, of which the Captain 
 liad just complained ! I left the room feeling that the 
 rivalry between the regiment and the regulars of the 
 barracks should not be charged entirely on the privates of 
 the regiment. Notwithstanding this rival feeling, let me 
 here state, the regiment was indebted to Captain Hastings 
 and Ordnance Sergeant Furay for many comforts which 
 they could not otherwise have obtained. 
 
 For some reason or other my commission as Commissary 
 was withheld until the regiment was about to move. As 
 it then became apparent that some one would be compelled 
 to assume the responsibility of providing for the troops 
 •while en route, I was notified on the day previous to the 
 departure that I would be commissioned. There were 
 no haversacks for the men, no provisions but for one day. 
 I waited anxiously for instructions until after dark, and 
 then, as none came, made bold to report to the command- 
 ing officer for orders. I received only severe censure for 
 intruding upon him after '"office hours!" Determined, 
 however, that the responsibility of such neglect should have 
 no chance to fall upon me, I took private conveyance 
 ■early next morning to Harrisburg, was mustered in, and 
 secured the necessary supplies, with which I joined the 
 regiment as it passed through. 
 
 I have been circumstantial in the foregoing, because in 
 sno other way could I show in its true light the utter con- 
 fusion and want of system in the organization. 
 
 During the transportation of the regiment to the West 
 the growing dissatisfaction was lulled by change of scene 
 by enthusiastic welcome along the route, and by hope of 
 better times when our destination should be reached. 
 Throughout that long ride to Louisville these men pre- 
 
S6 
 
 served decorum, though unguarded and virtually without 
 officers — for the latter chose to carry their aristocratic 
 ideas so far as to remain together and let their men look 
 out for themselves. That many stragglers dropped off 
 along the route, and did not return for weeks, is not 
 surprising; but that they returned at all voluntarily, when 
 desertion was so easy and the chances of inquiry doubtful — 
 and, more than all — in the face of the disorganization and 
 discontent of their comrades, proves that they possessed a 
 wonderful innate sense of duty, and a no less wonderful 
 hope. 
 
 As soon as we had got settled in camp at Louisville the 
 unhappy internal condition of affairs again became 
 apparent. It had been expected by the Cavalry, as 
 intimated heretofore, that the body-guard would be trans- 
 ferred to the regiment at Louisville as company "A," and 
 that they would, therefore, receive their full complement 
 of officers, and complete their organization. We found 
 here, however, only the senior Major. But the regiment 
 was not to be without acting officers — " temporary arrange- 
 ments" — as was soon demonstrated. Members of the 
 body-guard, on leaves of absence, would visit their com- 
 missioned comrades in- the camp, and while remaining 
 be invested by their friends with the authority to wear the 
 scarf and act as officers of the day or of the guard. The 
 baker of the body-guard, a foreigner who could scarcely 
 speak English, often assumed such role. All this, the 
 reader will understand, from no other reason than that they 
 belonged to the "Old Troop," and were therefore (as they 
 believed) the legitimate heirs of the power they assumed. 
 Those who can conceive the pride a true soldier takes in 
 his organization will not fail to see the exasperating 
 
87 
 
 tendencies of such assumptions — such unauthorized handing^ 
 over of a regiment bodily to privates of a different 
 organization. 
 
 Nor was there any improvement in other internal affairs. 
 A constant conflict of authority was going on between the 
 Lieut.-Colonel Commanding and the Majors — the latter 
 energetically endeavoring to equip the command and put 
 it into service. This clash of authority found a scape-goat 
 in me, as it had many times before. Thus, although I 
 had been relieved from duty at Carlisle as Acting Quarter- 
 master, (by finding another in the place, as stated) yet here 
 I was constantly receiving orders from the Majors to turn 
 in surplus stores, etc., and was as constantly threatened by 
 the Lieut.-Colonel with arrest if I did so — he being un- 
 willing to sign even an invoice for stores turned in. 
 
 These complications could not do otherwise than increase 
 the uneasiness and discontent in the regiment. The long 
 suppressed feelings of the men began to find voice. They 
 took counsel among themselves in their messes, and in 
 groups by the evening fires, and afterwards in meetings en 
 masse that shadowed the coming storm. Letters were 
 drawn up and sent to the Secretary of War and the Governor 
 of their State, setting forth the nature of their grievances, 
 and entreating for the good of the service that a regular 
 organization might be vouchsafed them. Some of the men, 
 having no faith in the virtue of these appeals, and knowing^ 
 full well the determined spirit of their comrades, concluded 
 that the organization was already on its last legs, and left 
 it for their homes, intending to enter other regiments. 
 These absentees, however, returned when it was oflicially 
 announced that the Cavalry was being re-organized at 
 Murfreesboro. 
 
88 
 
 At this time the men had formed the determination, and 
 liad notified the officers of it, not to march beyond Nash- 
 ville without a proper organization. So well aware were 
 the Majors of this intention that they contemplated asking 
 permission to cross the country into Ea.st Tennessee and 
 burn the rail-road bridge at Strawberry Plains. They 
 hoped by activity in the field, and the reputation which 
 such an achievement would have won, to inspirit the men 
 and divert their thoughts from the unhappy condition of 
 regimental affairs, I know this to be a fact ; for, having 
 formerly lived in East Tennessee, the Majors frequently 
 consulted me, while on the march to Nashville, about their 
 project, and also discussed the condition of the command, 
 and the probable end of the troubles. It is to be regretted 
 that the scheme they proposed was not carried out. 
 
 After leaving Louisville — the Lieut. Colonel following 
 the main body with two companies — Major Rosengarten 
 requested me to take temporary possession of the Quarter- 
 master's department, the gentleman of the body-guard who 
 had relieved me of that trust at Carlisle being (as stated 
 heretofore) only a private and unauthorized to sign receipts. 
 As it was urged upon me by both Majors as tending to allay 
 the dissatisfaction in the regiment, as well as in the light 
 of a personal favor to them, I accepted until we should 
 reach Nashville, Avhere a Quartermaster was supposed to 
 be awaiting us. 
 
 I found that no proper blanks had been provided, and 
 not half the transportation that was allowable; and such 
 wagons as we had were mostly loaded with surplus stores 
 which should have been left at Louisville. This was the 
 •cause of much unnecessary trouble and suffering. Not 
 being able to carry subsistence, we were compelled to keep 
 up a constant scouring of a country that had already been 
 well gleaned by two great armies. 
 
89 
 
 We readied Nashville on the evening of the 24th Decem- 
 ber. The regiment was halted in the streets while I rode 
 off, by Major Rosengarten's orders, to report our arrival 
 to the commanding General, whom I found at a council of 
 of war with a room-full of Generals. My orders were to 
 report to him in person, and to do so I was compelled to 
 push by guards and elbow Major Generals. General 
 Eosecrans received me courteously and gave some instruc- 
 tions to Col. Goddard A. A. G., who directed me where 
 the command was to locate, and ordered also that we should 
 report to the Chief of Cavalry. While the regiment was 
 going to camp, which was near Stanley's head-quarters. 
 Major Rosengarten sent me off to report to that General. 
 I did so, and at the same time made a requisition for forage, 
 and got the promise of it in the morning. 
 
 I also found that the Anderson Cavalry had been 
 brigaded Avith some other new regiments. 
 
 This fact has been considered by many as the pretext for- 
 the outbreak; and, indeed, having been recruited as an 
 independent organization, it is only natural that the 
 brigading should have increased the discontent among the 
 men. But I have already shown that the determination 
 of the majority not to march beyond Nashville without 
 being efficiently officered, was formed at Louisville, as the 
 result of causes hereinbefore mentioned, and that it was 
 well known to the officers. As an instance of this, and as 
 showing the quiet spirit that actuated the men, I will state 
 that on coming to camp that night, before the fact of the 
 brigading was known to any one in the regiment but my- 
 self, I heard one of the best sergeants say to his horse, 
 while unsaddling, "There, that is the last time it goes on your 
 hoAik until these difficulties are settled" 
 
90 
 
 I reported this incident to the Major, who appreciated 
 its significance, and talked with me long and anxiously as 
 to the probable action of the men. 
 
 There is no reason to suppose that if the regiment had 
 been properly organized and officered, a single man would 
 have mutinied. Let me here say that I am attempting no 
 apology for the outbreak. I opposed it from the start, and 
 was the first (and for a time the only) officer who went 
 personally among the men to dissuade them from such 
 action. I always regarded their conduct as the efforts of 
 courageous, high-spirited, but impetuous men to obtain an 
 efiective military organization ; smarting under the neglect 
 and confusion arising from the squabbles of another organ- 
 ization to obtain exclusive control of them; and fearful lest 
 the splendid prospects with which they enlisted should 
 fizzle away under incapacity and mismanagement: the 
 whole arising, as they could not fail to see, from the ir- 
 regular, irresponsible, and "temporary" manner in which 
 they had originally been recruited aTid organized. 
 
 As to the charge of cowardice, which some stay-at-home 
 and detailed -in-the-rear warriors have had the insolence 
 to advance, I consider it unworthy of aught but simple 
 mention as a part of the history of the event. 
 
 Shortly after going into camp, orders were brought to 
 march the regiment at an early hour in the morning 
 (Christmas). The Major handed me the despatch, and I 
 told him I did not see how it was possible to move so soon, 
 without a single ration of forage or subsistence, or a round 
 of ammunition, all which would have to be drawn on the 
 morrow. The horses had not been fed for more than a 
 "day, and had had but little for four days. 
 
 " Well," said he, " the orders are peremptory, and you 
 must try to get these things to-night." 
 
91 
 
 Unfortunately, no one had been left to guide the wagons 
 to camp, and but three succeeded in reaching us; these 
 three, too, were deserted by their drivers, who liad returned 
 to their companies, having previously obtained the per- 
 mission of their officers to do so when the regiment should 
 arrive at iS^ashville. It took me until near morning to 
 get volunteer drivers, find the Commissary's and get 
 provisions; but we still had no forage nor ammunition. 
 About day-break, the marching orders were countermand- 
 ed, and instead of receiving the promised forage orders 
 were sent to us for a train and guard to go after it beyond 
 the lines. Owing to miserable management this party was 
 driven back by the rebels, with the loss of one of our men. 
 
 This incident helped to deepen the discontent, and was 
 regarded by the men as sadly confirmatory of their worst 
 fears that ''temporary arrangements" would bring upon 
 them only disaster and disgrace. 
 
 All this day the regiment remained quietly in camp, 
 but during the day sent a committee to wait upon the 
 Lieut. Colonel (who had arrived and was commanding), 
 stating to him their purpose not to leave that camp until 
 properly organized. This notification seemed to produce 
 no impression upon the commander, and the swelling tide 
 of the mutiny was allowed to take its course. I know not 
 what occurred at this interview, but to illustrate some of 
 the characteristics of the officer referred to, I will state in 
 detail the difficulties and delays which I had to go through 
 that very day to obtain his signature to the requi;^ition 
 necessary to procure ammunition. 
 
 Presenting the document to him, I reminded him of ths 
 urgency of the matter, and asked his immediate approval. 
 He said he would send it to me. After waiting some time 
 I sent an orderly for it, and it was returned unsigned. In 
 a sort of blind hope I took it to the ordnance officer, but 
 
92 
 
 lie very properly refused to issue on it without approval. 
 I returned it to the Lieut. Colonel with a written request 
 that he would sign it immediately; his answer was that he 
 would attend to it. Waiting awhile again, I went to head- 
 quarters and found the envelope open, but the requisition 
 ■still unsigned. I ventured then to carry it in person to the 
 Majors, but they declined to approve it as they were not in 
 command. I then addressed the requisition "To whoever is 
 in command of the Anderson Cavalry,'' and sent it to the 
 head-quarters tent. Not receiving it back, I went to the 
 tent again, found the document on his table, and handed 
 it to him. Said he : " This is insolent! " I insisted that he 
 should sign the paper, and he again said he would send it 
 to me. But I remained there for a considerable time, and 
 the requisition was still unapproved. In despair I took it 
 from the table and was about to leave the tent, when he 
 asked what I was going to do. I answered that I was not 
 willing to be held responsible for the absence of ammu- 
 nition, and that I was going to report to Gen. Stanley his 
 refusal to approve the necessary papers. 
 
 He then took and signed it ! Nearly an entire day was 
 consumed in these efforts, and it was after dark before I 
 secured the ammunition. 
 
 In anticipation of the march in the morning (orders to 
 that effect having been received), I was detailed to remain 
 in charge of the camp, with a guard and the sick. The 
 usual confusion of things w^as exhibited even in this, for I 
 j-eceived but two of the details, and found it impossible to 
 make a correct roll ofthose who remained with me by orders. 
 The memorable morning — December 26 — arrived. 
 About 7 o'clock orders came to march ; but, although the 
 usual early reveille had been sounded, the marching orders 
 were followed by no ''Officers' Call," no ''Boots and 
 Saddles," no formal intimation whatever to the men that 
 
93 
 
 they were expected to go anywhere. Authority in the 
 regiment, always confused and irregular, was now utterly 
 paralyzed, and the outbreak received the strongest en- 
 couragement by meeting with no official opposition. 
 
 It soon became manifest that but a few were preparing 
 to march. Only one company entire (L)* saddled up, 
 when it became known that the command had been 
 ordered off. 
 
 Meeting Major Rosengarten, we rode together outside 
 of camp, and talked the situation over. He was much 
 vexed at the mismanagement of affairs, and the lamenta- 
 ble result, and, as if in despair, rode off to head-quarters to 
 persuade Gen. Rosecrans to countermand the order of 
 march for the Anderson Cavalry, in hope of gaining time 
 for a speedy settlement of the difficulties. In this request 
 he was joined by Gen. Mitchell, Commanding District 
 who was also aware of the condition of the regiment, and 
 stated further that he would need their assistance to convoy 
 trains to and from the front. But the Commanding 
 General deemed it best not to grant the request. 
 
 Returning to camp I found no further preparations 
 making, but the arms were stacked in the company streets, 
 and the men remained quietly in their quarters. The 
 officers were gathered at head-quarters, clanned together 
 as usual, discussing the situation, and, no doubt, ready to 
 folloiu such of their men as would decide to go. I heard 
 one of the Captains say "that he hoped the men would 
 remain firm, and that he would be glad of an opportunity 
 to go with the boys"— meaning the body-guard. Going 
 among the men of this officer's company, I had no great 
 difficulty in persuading most of them to saddle up, and I 
 
 * Excepting one meml)er of it. 
 
94 
 
 reported to their Captain that his men were going. The 
 strongest argument I used with these men was that there 
 certainly would be a battle. 
 
 Another officer requested me to use my efforts with his 
 company, which I gladly did ; but when I had got so far 
 as to consider my mission accomplished, up rides an 
 orderly from head-quarters, a member of the body-guard, 
 who proceeded to tell what he knew. His opinion of the 
 military situation was different from mine, for he assured 
 his hearers that there certainly would not be a battle, that 
 it was "merely the forward movement of a campaign"; 
 and that they must not allow themselves to be diverted 
 from their purpose by other statements, &c., &c. Other 
 orderlies from head-quarters (members of the body-guard) 
 frequently passed through the camp reiterating these 
 assurances, and advising the Cavalry to stand firm. 
 
 Major Ward,who was sick and dispirited, said to my 
 entreaty that he would remain in camp: "No, I will go 
 with the boys that go into this battle, and then resign, for 1 
 am not willing to see such men so shamefully treated. 
 
 I am very careful in reporting the actions and words of 
 the deceased Majors at this time, as there is no one but 
 myself to mention them. 
 
 After the three hundred had gone — some of them, 
 including the two Majors, never to return alive — I 
 personally reported the state of affairs to Gen. Mitchell. 
 He censured me severely, in the warmth of his feeling, 
 saying that experience had proved that the inefficiency of 
 officers was the cause of all the troubles in volunteer 
 regiments. 
 
 During the next few days the camp was visited by many 
 officers, soldiers, and citizens, all anxious to see the 
 " mutineers." Most of these visitors advised the men to 
 maintain their position. The quiet and orderly conduct 
 
95 
 
 of all— guarding their own canap, &c., — seemed to astonish 
 observers, who probably expected to find a turbulent and 
 noisy crew, held in subjection by the bayonet. This 
 impression was also shared by the authorities, for I was 
 twice offered a guard for pergonal protection ! Members 
 of the regiment, especially those who remained at camp, 
 will smile at this evidence of the desperate reputation 
 which they had unconsciously acquired. As for myself I 
 need hardly say that I never felt safer in my life than I 
 did amongst these terrible fellows, although I was aware 
 of being very unpopular with them. 
 
 The bulk of the rations drawn for the regiment having 
 gone to the front with the three hundred, those men who 
 remained were compelled, (after sharing the provisions 
 that had been retained for the guards, &c.) to forage for 
 subsistence in the best way they could. For the horses 
 they were glad to dig up the refuse corn from the mud at 
 the late site of the wagon parks ; and as for the men them- 
 selves, I need only state that I— though a Commissary and 
 acting Quartermaster, positions wherein one is supposed 
 always to be able to look out for self— was very glad to 
 purchase from an Irish laborer in the Q. M. D. the cold 
 remnants of his dinner. But the men stood it bravely, 
 accepting with a good grace the consequences of their 
 defection. 
 
 During this time I did all that my poor efforts could do 
 to reason with them, speaking to them individually and 
 collectively; but the only result of my endeavors seemed 
 to be that I was looked upon as crazy on the subject — an 
 impression which obtains among some of them to this day! 
 
 On the 29th December, a Captain came to camp, having 
 been out with a squad of the men to secure and bury the 
 body of our comrade who had been killed on Christmas 
 morning. I turned over the camp to this officer, and he 
 
96 
 
 succeeded in obtaining about 30 men to go with him to the- 
 front. Before starting that way, I accompanied him to- 
 Gen. Mitchell, to whom he reported the refusal of the rest 
 of the command to march with him. At this interview 
 with Gen. Mitchell, Gen. Morgan, commanding the Post 
 being present, they both declared it to be their purpose to 
 fire upon the mutineers if still persistent in their dis- 
 obedience. 
 
 Accordingly on the next ^^.ay (30th), Gen. Morgan 
 marched a regiment of infantry and one of cavalry to the 
 camp, and surrounded it. He then sent a message to the 
 men that he wished to address them. Immediately, with 
 true soldierly spirit, they went to their quarters and 
 equipped themselves as for dress parade, but without arms r 
 marched out by companies and formed regimental front 
 with a precision and celerity that made a visible impression 
 on the troops that surrounded them. 
 
 Gen. Morgan then ordered his men to load, after which 
 he read his orders, and asked the Cavalry if they still 
 refused to march. A few stepped to the front, one after- 
 another, and replied, briefly referring to their defective 
 organization ; to the long suffering and forbearance with 
 which from Carlisle to that place they had withstood the 
 consequent neglect and abuse; to their appeals to the 
 Governor of their State and to the General Government^, 
 which had met with no attention. They had not made 
 this stand out of fear of the enemy, for they were ready 
 to meet death there, if need be, at the hands of their friends. 
 The General replied in substance : "Of your organization 
 or history I know nothing, nor is it my business to consider 
 either. You are soldiers, sworn to obey the orders of your 
 superiors. I also am a soldier, and am here under orders 
 to compel your obedience. I do not wish to use the force- 
 
with which I have been sent here, but I should be in 
 mutiny like yourselves if I refused to obey my orders." 
 
 He then announced that he would allow them five minutes 
 to come to decision. 
 
 It was a remarkable scene. Here were less than 500 
 men, standing shoulder to shoulder, silent and determin- 
 ed ; without arms, but strong in their conviction of right ; 
 facing two regiments that might in a few moments more 
 cut them to pieces. The five minutes grace were passing 
 away — the last one had come, the most trying moment oi 
 my life. I begged the General to grant five minuter more, 
 and asked his permission to go amongst the men. I appeal- 
 ed to them by every consideration that could touch the heads 
 or hearts of people ; but the only result of my efforts was that 
 some of my own guards joined the ranks to share the fate 
 of their comrades. 
 
 General Morgan was a man of tact as well as of feeling. 
 He assured the Cavalhy that, after all, their wishes and 
 his orders were about the same ; that his desire was to lead 
 them to Gen. Rosecrans, who would see, he doubted not, 
 that they were at once properly organized. This proposition 
 had the desired effect. The men saddled up with alacrity ; 
 indeed, so universal was the desire to go to the front, and 
 so inspiring the hope that something at last would be done 
 for the regiment, that I was compelled to threaten some of 
 my own detachment with arrest to prevent them from 
 going. 
 
 Gen. Morgan detailed Col. Woods, of the Illinois 
 regiment of infantry that had marched out to camp, to 
 lead the Ca.vat.ry to the head-quarters of Gen Rosecrans. 
 
 I pause here to notice a statement which has been made, 
 that those who went with Col. ^yoods did not comprise all 
 the mutineers. I have my own knowledge to the contrary; 
 and in addition have the statement of Col. W. himself to 
 
98 
 
 the efiect that he believed not a man was left in camp ex- 
 cept those whose duty it was to remain. If any but these 
 did remain, they must have secreted themselves, and there 
 are always some scallawags in the best of regiments. 
 
 At or near Lavergne the command was stopped by a 
 heavy force of the enemy's cavalry, under Wheeler, who 
 wa?3 destroying wagon-trains, &c. Col. Woods, having had 
 no experience with cavalry, transferred the command to a 
 cavalry officer who had accompanied him. An attack was 
 about to be made, when an escaped prisoner — an officer — 
 came up and reported tlie rebels to be in overwhelming 
 force. It was therefore not deemed prudent to attack ; but 
 the men urged to be led on, saying that annihilation was^ 
 better than returning to camp. The officer in command 
 afterwards said that it was harder to keep them from 
 sacrificing themselves unnecessarily than it had been to 
 start them from camp. The party then fell back, about a 
 htmdred of them going into camp six miles from Nashville, 
 whence they made their way next day to the army ; but the 
 majority, disheartened and desperate, having no subsistence 
 for themselves or their horses, and no shelter from the 
 storm that was then raging, returned again to the camp at 
 Nashville, where they hoped to find relief. The horses 
 were so famished that it 'required skill to mount without 
 upsetting them, and they perished, scores daily, of 
 starvation. 
 
 At midnight Col. Woods came again to the camp, with 
 orders to take the command once more to the front ; but 
 it was impossible to get a single man out of his blanket- 
 And if it had been possible, the chances were that the troop- 
 er would have found his horse dead. This was the last 
 attempt made by Gen. Mitchell to get the Cavalry into 
 the field. On the evening of next day — the last day of the 
 year — he sent troops and wagons from the city, and the 
 
99 
 
 mutineers, by orders, piled their arms and accoutreraente 
 into the wagons,and marched to the city Workhouse escort- 
 ed by the troops. 
 
 I encamped my guard and sick on a hillock near the 
 waterworks, formed of offal and the refuse of camps, having 
 been ordered there as it was an unoccupied point 
 in the defences. It hardly needed military occupation, we 
 thought, for it possessed in itself a strong element of defence. 
 The camp here was so aptly named that it must ever re- 
 main one of the classic remembrances of the regiment. 
 
 On the 1st, 2d, and 3d of January, 1863, those who had 
 gone into the fight returned in detachments. They had 
 seen a week's hard service ; both men and horses were 
 nearly used up. True to the determination which they 
 had formed with their comrades, to compel a reorganiza- 
 tion of the regiment, a great many of these returned men 
 courageously gave up their arms and joined their comrades 
 in theWorkhouse. The latter was consequently overflowed 
 and many were placed without shelter in the yard of the 
 prison. Those who remained in camp had but little shelter 
 nor provisions, the camp equipage having been taken by 
 the Government, and it being impossible to obtain approval 
 for requisitions. The officers positively refused to receipt 
 for any stores that might be drawn for the use of their men. 
 Many of the latter had been stripped of their clothing by 
 the rebels, and were almost naked, I was compelled to 
 assume the responsibility of drawijig clothing and issuing 
 it in person to these men in order to save them from 
 freezing to death. Those familiar with the customs of 
 service will understand the great irregularity of this 
 proceeding, and my only excuse is that, though it was ir- 
 regular, it saved some valuable lives. 
 
 I know not how to express my thanks to A. Q, Masters 
 Chas. H. Irwin and T. K. Dudley, to whose kindness I 
 
100 
 
 ■vvas in a great measure indebted for the ability to draw as 
 stated. 
 
 From the first intimation of the troubles, and the purpose 
 to openly demand a remedy, many of the men had received 
 ■enaoaragement from their families and friends at home ; 
 and as many of them were connected with influential 
 circles, the promises of legal and other aid carried great 
 weight. But now that the stand had been made, and the 
 •strong hand of military power was laid upon those who 
 had taken part in it, none of the promised help from home 
 appeared. On the contrary the journals there teemed with 
 editorials, letters, and despatches, pronouncing eternal 
 infamy upon the mutineers. Their motives were mis- 
 represented or misunderstood, some ascribing it wholly to 
 disappointment in not finding the regiment accepted by 
 Gen. Rosecrans as a " body-guard ; " some to the fact of the 
 brigading ; some to a desire to escape the service altogether ; 
 and some to the Emancipation Proclamation. This last^ 
 it seems, was the impression received at Washington, and 
 by the Secretary of War, who was reported as saying that 
 the outbreak of the regiment from such a motive was the 
 worst thing that liad happened daring the war. He also 
 sent an inspecting officer to look into the matter, and this 
 officer had evideiitly received his instructions under the 
 impression I have stated. The Nasliville rebels also held 
 the opinion that such was the cause of the trouble, and no 
 doubt wrote astonishing letters to their Confederate friends 
 about the wholesale throwing down of arms by Yankee 
 troops because they were not willing to have the niggers 
 set free. Not a few little dinners were given by rebel 
 admirers to some of these supposed enemies of emancipa- 
 tion. To those who asked advice in tlie premises, instruc- 
 tions were given to obey St Paul's injunction: '• Eat, and 
 ask no questions, for the stomach's sake." 
 
101 
 
 Meanwhile the abuse of the unfortunate men by the 
 organs of opinion at home continued to increase if possible, 
 and scarcely a voice was lifted up to soften or explain their 
 offence. I am tempted to say much more on this point 
 but must hurry on. 
 
 Eeceiving such unbounded censure instead of the advice 
 and assistance that had been promised,finding their motives 
 wholly misunderstood or wilfully perverted, served only 
 to intensify the devotion of the men to their cause. They 
 demanded a trial by court-martial. The majority became 
 mono-manias on this subject, insisting on a court-martial 
 even if it resulted in the death of some of them. Misun- 
 derstanding the nature of such a court (which considers 
 facts, not motives) they hoped that their good intentions 
 might thus be proved to the world. This demand became 
 at last so earnest and obstinate, that it was captiously 
 charged to a desire of escaping service entirely. 
 
 This slander is hardly worth disproving ; but the facts 
 are at hand, and may as well be stated. It having been 
 reported that an order was extant, allowing men to be 
 transferred from the army to the gun-boat service, a 
 committee of the men in the Workhouse waited upon me 
 with an urgent request that I would ascertain if they could 
 be so transferred ; but from officers of gun-boats then at 
 Nashville I learned that there was no such order. And 
 here is an individual instance, still more significant. 
 Among the many whom I removed from the Workhouse 
 to the hospital was one who protested to the last that he 
 would not go, as he had learned that it was the intention 
 of his friends to purchase his discharge. I respected his 
 motive, and it was only when the responsibility of his 
 death was thrown upon me by a surgeon's certificate that 
 his life was in danger, that I at last removed him to a. 
 hospital. 
 
102 
 
 I may state, too, that with most of those whom I sent to 
 the hospitals, I had difficulty to get their consent, as they 
 looked upon it as deserting the rest. 
 
 What better proof can there be that the object of these 
 men was not to leave the service, but to obtain an organ- 
 ization that would result in something better than " tempo- 
 rary arrangements " and disorder? 
 
 The Workhouse, where the majority of the men were 
 confined, was a long, low, brick shed, on the river bluff, 
 with a leaky roof, and a bare, muddy floor. The heaps of 
 stone, at Avhich petty offences against civil law were wont 
 to be expiated, still remained in the corners, and were now 
 used as depositories for blankets and utensils, or as a 
 lounge of relief from the unhealthy ground. The few fires, 
 of green or wet wood, filled the area with a dense smoke, 
 and from this arose the title which the men always gave 
 to the place, the "Smoke House." It was a sad sight to 
 see these hundreds of young men, with inflamed eyes, 
 violent coughs, and husky voices; faces purple with fever, 
 or haggard with the wasting diseases engendered by the 
 place. Dreadful as this was, however, the unfortunate 
 youths who had been quartered in the prison yard (some 
 distance from the Workhouse) were in far more pitiable 
 plight. Without shelter of any kind, sick, famished, 
 ragged and freezing ; deep in water and mud, and in the 
 accumulated filth of their confinement — the scene was one 
 which I have no disposition to dwell upon. 
 
 The court martial demanded by the men was granted. 
 Eleven of their number were tried, and it was rumored 
 had bean con lemned to death ; but no such result was ever 
 published in orders. Tliere was a far more probable rumor 
 to the effect that no formal sentence was ever fixed, the 
 •evidence pointing conclu-jively to the fact that the men 
 had used every means in their power to obtain a proper 
 
103 
 
 organization. Of course the truth of the matter can only 
 be known by examining the records of theWar Department, 
 
 On or about the 20th January, Gen. Eosecrans sent a 
 proposition to the confined men, promising to have them 
 speedily reorganized and put into service if they would at 
 once return to duty. Part of them accepted at once, and 
 were quartered in the building that then stood at the corner . 
 of Broad and Cherry Sts. The number increased rapidly 
 from day to day, until two other buildins:s were taken to 
 accommodate them. By the 13th February all had left 
 the prison and the Smoke House. From this time the 
 condition of the men in every way began to improve ; and 
 when Colonel Palmer arrived soon after, and began ta 
 reconstruct the ruins of the "temporary arrangement" by 
 accepting the resignations of all the officers, the men 
 eagerly went down to the new camp at Murfreesboro a? 
 fast as they were sent for. At the same time, on official 
 notice being given, most of those who had in disgust made 
 their way home, returned to the regiment. In less than 
 two months the command was in the field again, sadly 
 thinned, it is true, but fully officered and equipped, and 
 immediately entered upon that career of independent 
 service which needs no further mention here. 
 
 In closing, I repeat that I make no apology for the 
 mutiny. I always censured the action of the men as im- 
 prudent and untimely, but have always felt that their motive 
 merited some public defence. If this plain statement shall 
 dislodge a single prejudice against those in whose interest 
 I have written, they and I will be amply repaid. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Geo. S. Fobes, 
 Late Quartermaster of the Anderson Cavalry. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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