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Chapter XIV
- Appointed a Major
-- General
-- the secret expedition under Card the scout
-- his capture by guerrillas
-- escape
-- a revenge party
-- women soldiers
-- a fight with sabres
-- Tullahoma campaign
-- a foolish adventure.
On the 6th of January, 1863, my division settled quietly down in its camp south of Murfreesboroa.
Its exhausted condition after the terrible experiences of the preceding week required attention.
It needed recuperation, reinforcement, and reorganization, and I set about these matters without delay, in anticipation of active operations early in the spring.
No forward movement was made for nearly six months, however, and throughout this period drills, parades, reconnoissances, and foraging expeditions filled in the time profitably.
In addition to these exercises the construction of permanent fortifications for the security of Murfreesboroa was undertaken by
General Rosecrans, and large details from my troops were furnished daily for the work.
Much attention was also given to creating a more perfect system of guard and picket duty — a matter that had hitherto been somewhat neglected in the army, as its constant activity had permitted scant opportunity for the development of such a system.
It was at this time that I received my appointment as a majorgeneral of Volunteers.
My promotion had been recommended by
General Rosecrans immediately after the
battle of Stone River, but for some reason it was delayed until April, and though a long time elapsed between the promise and the performance, my gratification was extreme.
My scout, Card, was exceedingly useful while encamped near Murfreesboroa, making several trips to
East Tennessee within the enemy's lines to collect information as to the condition of the loyal people there, and to encourage them with the hope of early liberation.
He also brought back from each trip very accurate statements as to the strength and doings of the Confederate army, fixing almost with certainty its numbers and the locations of its different divisions, and enabling my
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engineer-officer-Major Morhardt--to construct good maps of the country in our front.
On these dangerous excursions Card was always accompanied by one of his brothers, the other remaining with me to be ready for duty if any accident occurred to those who had gone out, or in case I wanted to communicate with them.
In this way we kept well posted, although the intelligence these men brought was almost always secured at the risk of their lives.
Early in the spring, before the Tullahoma campaign began, I thought it would be practicable, by sending out a small secret expedition of but three or four men, to break the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad between
Chattanooga and the enemy's position at
Tullahoma by burning the bridges in
Crow Creek valley from its head to
Stevenson, Alabama, and then the great bridge across the
Tennessee River at
Bridgeport.
Feeling confident that I could persuade Card to undertake the perilous duty, I broached the contemplated project to him, and he at once jumped at the opportunity of thus distinguishing himself, saying that with one of his brothers and three other loyal East Tennesseeans, whose services he knew could be enlisted, he felt sure of carrying out the idea, so I gave him authority to choose his own assistants.
In a few days his men appeared at my headquarters, and when supplied with money in notes of the State Bank of
Tennessee, current everywhere as gold in those days, the party, composed of Card, the second brother, and the three East Tennesseeans, started on their precarious enterprise, their course being directed first toward the
Cumberland Mountains, intending to strike the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad somewhere above
Anderson's station.
They expected to get back in about fifteen days, but I looked for some knowledge of the progress of their adventure before the expiration of that period, hoping to hear through Confederate sources-prisoners and the like — of the destruction of the bridges.
I waited in patience for such news, but none came, and as the time Card had allotted himself passed by, I watched anxiously for his return, for, as there was scarcely a doubt that the expedition had proved a failure, the fate of the party became a matter of deep concern to Card's remaining brother and to me. Finally this brother volunteered to go to his father's house in
East Tennessee to get tidings of the party, and I consented, for the probabilities were that some of them had made their way to that point, or at least that some information had reached there about them.
As day after day went by, the time fixed for this brother's return came round, yet he also remained out; but some days after the lad was due Card himself turned up accompanied by the brother he
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had taken with him, soon explained his delay in getting back, and gave me the story of his adventures while absent.
After leaving my camp, his party had followed various by-ways across the
Cumberland Mountains to
Crow Creek Valley, as instructed; but when nearing the railroad above
Anderson's Station, they were captured by some guerrillas prowling about that vicinity, and being suspected of disloyalty to the
Confederacy, were carried to
Chattanooga and imprisoned as Yankee spies.
Their prospects now were decidedly discouraging, for death stared them in the face.
Fortunately, however, some delays occurred relative to the disposition that should be made of them, and they, meanwhile, effected their escape from their jailors by way of one of the prison windows, from which they managed to displace a bar, and by a skiff, in the darkness of night, crossed the
Tennessee River a little below
Chattanooga.
From this point the party made their way back to my camp, traveling only at night, hiding in the woods by day, and for food depending on loyal citizens that Card had become acquainted with when preaching and pedling.
Card's first inquiry after relating his story was for the youngest brother, whom he had left with me. I told him what I had done, in my anxiety about himself, and that more than sufficient time had elapsed for his brother's return.
His reply was: “They have caught him. The poor fellow is dead.”
His surmise proved correct; for news soon came that the poor boy had been captured at his father's house, and hanged.
The blow to Card was a severe one, and so hardened his heart against the guerrillas in the neighborhood of his father's home — for he knew they were guilty of his brother's murder — that it was with difficulty I could persuade him to continue in the employment of the
Government, so determined was he to avenge his brother's death at the first opportunity.
Finally, however, I succeeded in quieting the almost uncontrollable rage that seemed to possess him, and he remained with me during the Tullahoma and
Chickamauga campaigns; but when we reached
Knoxville the next winter, he took his departure, informing me that he was
going for the bushwhackers who had killed his brother.
A short time after he left me, I saw him at the head of about thirty well-armed East Tennesseeans-refugees.
They were determined-looking men, seeking revenge for the wrongs and sufferings that had been put upon them in the last two years, and no doubt wreaked their vengeance right and left on all who had been in any way instrumental in persecuting them.
The feeding of our army from the base at
Louisville was attended with a great many difficulties, as the enemy's cavalry was constantly breaking the railroad and intercepting our communications on the
Cumberland
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River at different points that were easily accessible to his then superior force of troopers.
The accumulation of reserve stores was therefore not an easy task, and to get forage ahead a few days was wellnigh impossible, unless that brought from the
North was supplemented by what we could gather from the country.
Corn was abundant in the region to the south and southwest of Murfreesboroa, so to make good our deficiencies in this respect, I employed a brigade about once a week in the duty of collecting and bringing in forage, sending out sometimes as many as a hundred and fifty wagons to haul the grain which my scouts had previously located.
In nearly every one of these expeditions the enemy was encountered, and the wagons were usually loaded while the skirmishers kept up a running fire.
Often there would occur a respectable brush, with the loss on each side of a number of killed and wounded.
The officer in direct command always reported to me personally whatever had happened during the time he was out — the result of his reconnoissance, so to speak, for that was the real nature of these excursions-and on one occasion the colonel in command,
Colonel Conrad, of the Fifteenth Missouri, informed me that he got through without much difficulty; in fact, that everything had gone all right and been eminently satisfactory, except that in returning he had been mortified greatly by the conduct of
the two females belonging to the detachment and division train at my headquarters. These women, he said, had given much annoyance by getting drunk, and to some extent demoralizing his men. To say that I was astonished at his statement would be a mild way of putting it, and had I not known him to be a most upright man and of sound sense, I should have doubted not only his veracity, but his sanity.
Inquiring who they were and for further details, I was informed that there certainly were in the command two females, that in some mysterious manner had attached themselves to the service as soldiers; that one, an
East Tennessee woman, was a teamster in the division wagontrain and the other a private soldier in a cavalry company temporarily attached to my headquarters for escort duty.
While out on the foraging expedition these Amazons had secured a supply of “applejack” by some means, got very drunk, and on the return had fallen into
Stone River and been nearly drowned.
After they had been fished from the water, in the process of resuscitation their sex was disclosed, though up to this time it appeared to be known only to each other.
The story was straight and the circumstance clear, so, convinced of
Conrad's continued sanity, I directed the
provost-marshal to bring in arrest to my headquarters the two disturbers of
Conrad's peace of mind.
After some little search the
East Tennessee woman was found in camp, somewhat the worse for the
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experiences of the day before, but awaiting her fate contentedly smoking a cob-pipe.
She was brought to me, and put in duress under charge of the division surgeon until her companion could be secured.
To the doctor she related that the year before she had “refugeed” from
East Tennessee, and on arriving in
Louisville assumed men's apparel and sought and obtained employment as a teamster in the quartermaster's department.
Her features were very large, and so coarse and masculine was her general appearance that she would readily have passed as a man, and in her case the deception was no doubt easily practiced.
Next day the “she dragoon” was caught, and proved to be a rather prepossessing young woman, and though necessarily bronzed and hardened by exposure, I doubt if, even with these marks of campaigning, she could have deceived as readily as did her companion.
How the two got acquainted I never learned, and though they had joined the army independently of each other, yet an intimacy had sprung up between them long before the mishaps of the foraging expedition.
They both were forwarded to army headquarters, and, when provided with clothing suited to their sex, sent back to
Nashville, and thence beyond our lines to
Louisville.
On January 9, by an order from the War Department, the Army of the Cumberland had been divided into three corps, designated the Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-first.
This order did not alter the composition of the former grand divisions, nor change the commanders, but the new nomenclature was a decided improvement over the clumsy designations Right Wing, Centre, and Left Wing, which were well calculated to lead to confusion sometimes.
McCook's wing became the Twentieth Corps, and my division continued of the same organization, and held the same number as formerly — the Third Division, Twentieth Corps.
My first brigade was now commanded by
Brigadier-General William H. Lytle, the second by
Colonel Bernard Laiboldt, and the third by
Colonel Luther P. Bradley.
On the 4th of March I was directed to move in light marching order toward
Franklin and join
General Gordon Granger, to take part in some operations which he was projecting against
General Earl Van Dorn, then at
Spring Hill.
Knowing that my line of march would carry me through a region where forage was plentiful, I took along a large train of empty wagons, which I determined to fill with corn and send back to Murfreesboroa, believing that I could successfully cover the train by
Minty's brigade of cavalry, which had joined me for the purpose of aiding in a reconnoissance toward
Shelbyville.
In marching the column I placed a regiment of infantry at its head, then the wagon-train, then a brigade of infantry-masking the cavalry behind this brigade.
The enemy,
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discovering that the train was with us, and thinking he could capture it, came boldly out with his cavalry to attack.
The head of his column came up to the crossroads at
Versailles, but holding him there, I passed the train and infantry brigade beyond toward
Eagleville, and when my cavalry had been thus unmasked,
Minty, followed by the balance of my division, which was still behind, charged him with the sabre.
Success was immediate and complete, and pursuit of the routed forces continued through
Unionville, until we fell upon and drove in the
Confederate outposts at
Shelbyville.
Here the enemy was taken by surprise evidently, which was most fortunate for us, otherwise the consequences might have been disastrous.
Minty captured in the charge about fifty prisoners and a few wagons and mules, and thus enabled me to load my train with corn, and send it back to
Murfreesboro, unmolested.
In this little fight the sabre was freely used by both sides, and I do not believe that during the whole war I again knew of so large a percentage of wounds by that arm in proportion to the numbers engaged.
That night I encamped at
Eagleville, and next day reported to
Granger at
Franklin, arriving in the midst of much excitement prevailing on account of the loss of
Coburn's brigade, which had been captured the day before a little distance south of that point, while marching to form a junction with a column that had been directed on
Columbia from Murfreesboroa.
Shortly after
Coburn's capture
General Granger had come upon the scene, and the next day he advanced my division and
Minty's troops directly on
Spring Hill, with a view to making some reprisal; but
Van Dorn had no intention of accommodating us, and retired from
Spring Hill, offering but little resistance.
He continued to fall back, till finally he got behind
Duck River, where operations against him ceased; for, in consequence of the incessant rains of the season, the streams had become almost impassable.
Later, I returned by way of
Franklin to my old camp at Murfreesboroa, passing over on this march the ground on which the
Confederate General Hood met with such disaster the following year in his attack on
Stanley's corps.
My command had all returned from the
Franklin expedition to Murfreesboroa and gone into camp on the
Salem pike by the latter part of March, from which time till June it took part in only the little affairs of outposts occurring every now and then on my own front.
In the meanwhile
General Rosecrans had been materially reinforced by the return of sick and wounded men; his army had become well disciplined, and was tolerably supplied; and he was repeatedly pressed by the authorities at
Washington to undertake offensive operations.
During the spring and early summer
Rosecrans resisted, with a great deal of spirit and on various grounds, these frequent urgings, and
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out of this grew up an acrimonious correspondence and strained feeling between him and
General Halleck.
Early in June, however, stores had been accumulated and other preparations made for a move forward,
Rosecrans seeming to have decided that he could safely risk an advance, with the prospect of good results.
Before finally deciding, he called upon most of his corps and division commanders for their opinions on certain propositions which he presented, and most of them still opposed the projected movement, I among the number, reasoning that while
General Grant was operating against
Vicksburg, it was better to hold
Bragg in
Middle Tennessee than to push him so far back into
Georgia that interior means of communication would give the Confederate Government the opportunity of quickly joining a part of his force to that of
General Johnson in
Mississippi.
At this stage, and in fact prior to it,
Rosecrans seemed to manifest special, confidence in me, often discussing his plans with me independent of the occasions on which he formally referred them for my views.
I recollect that on two different occasions about this time he unfolded his designs to me in this informal way, outlining generally how he expected ultimately to force
Bragg south of the
Tennessee River, and going into the details of the contemplated move on
Tullahoma.
His schemes, to my mind, were not only comprehensive, but exact, and showed conclusively, what no one doubted then, that they were original with him. I found in them very little to criticise unfavorably, if we were to move at all, and
Rosecrans certainly impressed me that he favored an advance at an early day, though many of his generals were against it until the operations on the
Mississippi River should culminate in something definite.
There was much, fully apparent In the circumstances about his headquarters, leading to the conviction that
Rosecrans originated the Tullahoma campaign, and the record of his prior performances collaterally sustains the visible evidence then existing.
In my opinion, then, based on a clear recollection of various occurrences growing out of our intimacy, he conceived the plan of the Tullahoma campaign and the one succeeding it; and is therefore entitled to every credit that attended their execution, no matter what may be claimed for others.
On the 23d of June
Bragg was covering his position north of
Duck River with a front extending from
McMinnville, where his cavalry rested, through
Wartrace and
Shelbyville to
Columbia, his depot being at
Tullahoma.
Rosecrans, thinking that
Bragg would offer strong resistance at
Shelbyville — which was somewhat protected by a spur of low mountains or hills, offshoots of the
Cumberland Mountains-decided to turn that
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place; consequently, he directed the mass of the
Union army on the enemy's right flank, about
Manchester.
On the 26th of June
McCook's corps advanced toward Liberty Gap, my division
1 marching on the
Shelbyville pike.
I had proceeded but a few miles when I encountered the enemy's pickets, who fell back to
Christiana, about nine miles from Murfreesboroa.
Here I was assailed
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pretty wickedly by the enemy's sharpshooters and a section of artillery, but as I was instructed to do nothing more than cover the road from
Eagleville, over which
Brannan's division was to approach
Christiana, I made little reply to this severe annoyance, wishing to conceal the strength of my force.
As soon as the head of
Brannan's column arrived I marched across-country to the left, and encamped that night at the little town of
Millersburg, in the vicinity of Liberty Gap.
I was directed to move from
Millersburg, on
Hoover's Gap — a pass in the range of hills already referred to, through which ran the turnpike from Murfreesboroa to Manchester-but heavy rains had made the country roads almost impassable, and the last of my division did not reach
Hoover's Gap till the morning of June 27, after its abandonment by the enemy.
Continuing on to
Fairfield, the head of my column met, south of that place, a small force of Confederate infantry and cavalry, which after a slight skirmish
Laiboldt's brigade drove back toward
Wartrace.
The next morning I arrived at
Manchester, where I remained quiet for the day. Early on the 29th I marched by the
Lynchburg road for
Tullahoma, where the enemy was believed to be in force, and came into position about six miles from the town.
By the 31st the whole army had been concentrated, in spite of many difficulties, and though, on account of the heavy rains that had fallen almost incessantly since we left Murfreesboroa, its movements had been slow and somewhat inaccurate, yet the precision with which it took up a line of battle for an attack on
Tullahoma showed that forethought and study had been given to every detail.
The enemy had determined to fall back from
Tullahoma at the beginning of the campaign, however, and as we advanced, his evacuation had so far progressed that when, on July 1, we reached the earthworks thrown up early in the year for the defense of the place, he had almost wholly disappeared, carrying off all his stores and munitions of war except some little subsistence and eleven pieces of artillery.
A strong rear-guard remained to cover the retreat, and on my front the usual encounters between advancing and retreating forces took place.
Just before reaching the intrenchments on the
Lynchburg road, I came upon an open space that was covered by a network of fallen trees and underbrush, which had been slashed all along in front of the enemy's earthworks.
This made our progress very difficult, but I shortly became satisfied that there were only a few of the enemy within the works, so moving a battalion of cavalry that had joined me the day before down the road as rapidly as the obstructions would permit, the confederate pickets quickly departed, and we
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gained possession of the town.
Three siege guns, four caissons, a few stores, and a small number of prisoners fell into my hands.
That same evening orders were issued to the army to push on from
Tullahoma in pursuit, for, as it was thought that we might not be able to cross
Elk River on account of its swollen condition, we could do the enemy some damage by keeping close as possible at his heels.
I marched on the
Winchester road at 3 o'clock on the 2d of July and about 8 o'clock reached Elk River ford.
The stream was for the time truly an impassable torrent, and all hope of crossing by the
Winchester ford had to be abandoned.
Deeming that further effort should be made, however, under guidance of Card I turned the head of my column in the direction of Alisona, marching up the river and nearly parallel with it till I came to
Rock Creek.
With a little delay we got across
Rock Creek, which was also much swollen, and finding a short distance above its mouth a ford on
Elk River that Card said was practicable, I determined to attempt it. Some of the enemy's cavalry were guarding this ford, but after a sharp little skirmish my battalion of cavalry crossed and took up a strong position on the other bank.
The stream was very high and the current very swift, the water tumbling along over its rocky bed in an immense volume, but still it was fordable for infantry if means could be devised by which the men could keep their feet.
A cable was stretched across just below the ford as a lifeline for the weaker ones, and then the men of the entire division having secured their ammunition by placing the cartridge-boxes on their shoulders, the column pushed cheerfully into the rushing current.
The men as they entered the water joined each other
in sets of four in a close embrace, which enabled them to retain a foothold and successfully resist the force of the flood.
When they were across I turned the column down the left bank of
Elk River, and driving the enemy from some slight works near Estelle Springs, regained the
Winchester road.
By this time it was clear that
Bragg intended to fall back behind the
Tennessee River, and our only chance of accomplishing anything of importance was to smash up his rear-guard before it crossed the
Cumberland Mountains, and in pursuance of this idea I was directed to attack such of his force as was holding on to
Winchester.
At 4 o'clock on the morning of July 2 I moved on that town, and when we got close to it directed my mounted troops to charge a small force of Confederate cavalry that was picketing their front.
The Confederates resisted but little, and our men went with them in a disorderly chase through the village to
Boiling Fork, a small stream about half a mile beyond.
Here the fleeing pickets, rallying behind a stronger force, made a stand, and I was directed by
McCook to delay till I ascertained if
Davis's division,
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which was to support me, had made the crossing of
Elk River, and until I could open up communication with
Brannan's division, which was to come in on my left at
Decherd.
As soon as I learned that
Davis was across I pushed on, but the delay had permitted the enemy to pull his rear-guard up on the mountain, and rendered nugatory all further efforts to hurt him materially, our only returns consisting in forcing him to relinquish a small amount of transportation and forage at the mouth of the pass Just beyond
Cowan, a station on the line of the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad.
At
Cowan,
Colonel Watkins, of the Sixth Kentucky Cavalry, reported to me with twelve hundred mounted men. Having heard during the night that the enemy had halted on the mountain near the
University — an educational establishment on the summit — I directed
Watkins to make a reconnoissance and find out the value of the information.
He learned that
Wharton's brigade of cavalry was halted at the
University to cover a moderately large force of the enemy's infantry which had not yet got down the mountain on the other side, so I pushed
Watkins out again on the 5th, supporting him by a brigade of infantry, which I accompanied myself.
We were too late, however, for when we arrived at the top of the mountain
Wharton had disappeared, and though
Watkins pursued to
Bridgeport, he was able to do nothing more, and on his return reported that the last of the enemy had crossed the
Tennessee River and burned the railroad bridge.
Nothing further could now be done, so I instructed
Watkins to rejoin the division at
Cowan, and being greatly fatigued by the hard campaigning of the previous ten days, I concluded to go back to my camp in a more comfortable way than on the back of my tired horse.
In his retreat the enemy had not disturbed the railway track at all, and as we had captured a hand-car at
Cowan, I thought I would have it brought up to the station near the
University to carry me down the mountain to my camp, and, desiring company, I persuasively invited
Colonel Frank T. Sherman to ride with me. I sent for the car by a courier, and for a long time patiently awaited its arrival, in fact, until all the returning troops had passed us, but still it did not come.
Thinking it somewhat risky to remain at the station without protection,
Sherman and myself started our horses to
Cowan by our orderlies, and set out on foot to meet the car, trudging along down the track in momentary expectation of falling in with our private conveyance.
We had not gone very far before night overtook us, and we then began to realize the dangers surrounding us, for there we were alone and helpless, tramping on in the darkness over an unknown railroad track in the enemy's country, liable on the one hand to go tumbling through some bridge or
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trestle, and on the other, to possible capture or death at the hands of the guerrillas then infesting these mountains.
Just after dark we came to a little cabin near the track, where we made bold to ask for water, notwithstanding the fact that to disclose ourselves to the inmates might lead to fatal consequences.
The water was kindly given, but the owner and his family were very much exercised lest some misfortune might befall us near their house, and be charged to them, so they encouraged us to move on with a frankness inspired by fear of future trouble to themselves.
At every turn we eagerly hoped to meet the hand-car, but it never came, and we jolted on from tie to tie for eleven weary miles, reaching
Cowan after midnight, exhausted and sore in every muscle from frequent falls on the rough, unballasted road-bed.
Inquiry developed that the car had been well manned, and started to us as ordered, and nobody could account for its nonarrival.
Further investigation next day showed, however, that when it reached the foot of the mountain, where the railroad formed a junction, the improvised crew, in the belief no doubt that the
University was on the main line instead of near the branch to
Tracy City, followed the main stem until it carried them clear across the range down the
Crow Creek Valley, where the party was captured.
I had reason to remember for many a day this foolish adventure, for my sore bones and bruised muscles caused me physical suffering until I left the Army of the Cumberland the next spring; but I had still more reason to feel for my captured men, and on this account I have never ceased to regret that I so thoughtlessly undertook to rejoin my troops by rail, instead of sticking to my faithful horse.
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