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Browsing named entities in The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 8: Soldier Life and Secret Service. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller). You can also browse the collection for Jackson (Tennessee, United States) or search for Jackson (Tennessee, United States) in all documents.

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t gray army, it rained torrents for nearly three entire days, the country was knee-deep in mud and water, the roads were utterly out of sight. It was the marvelous concentration march of Meade's scattered army corps, however, that made possible the victory of Gettysburg. It was when they struck the hard, white roads of Pennsylvania that the men of the Army of the Potomac trudged unflinchingly their thirty miles or more a day, and matched the records of Napoleon's best. It was Stonewall Jackson's unequaled foot cavalry that could tramp their twenty-four hours through Virginia mountain trails, cover their forty miles from sun to sun, and be off again for another flank attack while yet their adversary slept. Moltke said the armies of the great Civil War were two armed mobs, but Moltke failed to realize that in the matters of information and logistics, the Union generals had, from first to last, to deal with problems and conditions the best of his or Frederick's field-marshals never
ching order known at that time. Wagon trains were reduced to carry only ammunition and indispensable food. No tents were carried except a few for officers. When Grant advanced upon Vicksburg in May, 1863, the army again marched light, and it has been said that the general's only baggage was a package of cigars and a toothbrush. Vicksburg surrendered on July 4th, and the same day, without entering the city, a large portion of the army marched rapidly away to attack General Johnston, at Jackson. The distance was little more than fifty miles, but never did troops suffer more severely. It was a forced march, under an intense, burning sun; the dust was stifling, and the only water was that from sluggish brooks and fetid ponds. In November, 1863, General Sherman marched his Fifteenth Corps from Memphis to Chattanooga, a distance of nearly four hundred miles, over almost impassable roads. When he arrived his men were in a most exhausted condition, yet they were ready to go into a
but We Shall Miss Him were in constant demand. Only rarely did the camps resound with The Battle Cry of Freedom and The Red, White, and Blue. They had seen so much of the sadness, they had thus far known so little of the joy of soldier life. In the West it had been different. There they had humbled the foe at Forts Henry and Donelson. They had fought him to a draw, winning finally the field, if not the fight, at Shiloh and Stone's River. Brilliantly led by Grant, they had triumphed at Jackson and Champion's Hill, and then besieged and captured Vicksburg, setting free the Mississippi. They had suffered fearful defeat at Chickamauga where, aided by Longstreet and his fighting divisions from Virginia, their old antagonist, Bragg, had been able to overwhelm the Union lines. Yet within three months the Army of the Cumberland, led by George H. Thomas, and under the eyes of Grant, had taken the bit in their teeth, refused to wait longer for Sherman's columns to their left, or Hooke