MUCH MARCHING, BUT LITTLE FIGHTING.
The morning of October 10th were again early on the move, and at 9 o’clock passed through the town of Perryville, and proceeded on towards Danville. The buildings, as we passed along, presented the appearance of hard usage from the effects of the battle of Wednesday. Nearly every house was more or less riddled by shot and shell. We saw one house that seemed as if it had been the especial target of the gunners, for it was pierced in many places. We continued on for about two miles, when our advance had some little skirmishing with the enemy’s rear guard. Our guns were at once drawn up in position on a high hill, having a good command of the country surrounding. We remained here some fifteen or twenty minutes, and then proceeded forward on a double quick. Two miles further, and we came to a halt—all our forces being drawn up in line of battle. More skirmishing took place. About 4 o’clock we bivouacked in an extensive hemp field, four miles from Danville. The boys remarked that we had come here for the express purpose of preparing hemp for the “skedaddlers.” That night was cold and stormy. We crawled under the hemp-stacks, and made ourselves as comfortable as the circumstances would admit.
October 11th. Morning still cold and stormy. We changed the position of our guns, and the horses were kept ready harnessed, and every one at his post. Some firing was heard on our left during the forepart of the day, and, in the afternoon, on our right. We, however, kept our position, and at night again slept under the hemp-stacks. The weather still continued cold, but the storm had ceased.
Weather next morning was clear, but cold. At 9 o’clock some of the enemy came into camp, bearing a flag of truce, but for what purpose we soldiers did not learn. About 10 o’clock we were ordered to move forward. Our march was through woods and fields, we seldom being on a regular traveled road. At 4 P. M. we came out on the turnpike leading from Danville to Camp Dick Robinson, and proceeded towards the latter place. The smoke of the enemy’s camp-fires could be plainly seen. When within four miles of the camp we were ordered to “about face,” and march back. So face about it was, and we were again passing over the same ground that we had but just traveled.
“We marched boldly down the road,—
Then marched back again.”
After going about three miles, we came out on another pike, which also led to Danville. And now we came to a halt, for the night. Supper was soon over with, and all turned in for a night’s repose. Before midnight we were routed out, with orders to harness our teams and march. Soon found ourselves faced towards Danville. The night was clear and the road good, so we went along at a lively pace, and in an hour’s time reached the town, and halted in a field just on the outskirts. We were now allowed to remain quietly until morning.
October 13th. The weather being fine, and as we were to remain in camp this day, the men took the opportunity to wash their clothes, it being the first time that they were able to do so since leaving Louisville. During the day we were visited by Colonel Barnett. We had not before seen him since leaving Nashville, in March, a period of eight months. Major Race also accompanied the Colonel. At 4 o’clock we were ordered to move.
On getting into the road we found we were faced towards camp Dick Robinson. Marched three miles, and camped directly opposite the camping ground of the night previous.
On the following morning, October 14th, again on the move, and going towards Danville, which place we reached about 9 o’clock A. M. We here turned into a field and halted. The entire army seemed in motion. After remaining here some two or three hours we again started, and about noon passed through town, and took the road leading to Stanford. Just before dark we turned off the main road, and after going two or three miles through the woods and fields, camped on a high piece of ground, as we supposed, for the night, as it was quite dark. It was reported that a large wagon train of the enemy had passed only two or three hours in advance of us. As soon as supper was over those who were not on guard stretched themselves on the ground to seek repose. Suddenly the clear notes of the bugle rang out on the night air. Never was the sound more unwelcome; but its call had to be obeyed. The moon shone brightly, but the air was piercing cold. The prospect of an all night’s march was not much relished.
As soon as we got out on the road we struck off on a double quick, and went spinning along towards Crab Orchard. Considerable firing was now heard some distance in advance. At every halt that was made fires were kindled with the rails along the road, and for miles ahead the sky was lighted up by them. There is something very impressive and thrillingly grand about a large army in motion at dead of night. The measured tramp, tramp, of the infantry, the rattle and creaking of artillery, the occasional neigh of a horse, mingled with the peculiar sound which always accompanies a large body—the breathing of thousands of human beings—and all lit up by the camp-fires, presents a weird, spectral scene. The march of death!
Shortly before daylight, and when we were some three or four miles from Crab Orchard, we came to a halt in the middle of the road. Several large fires were built, around which we all gathered. At daylight we got a cup of coffee and some “hard-tack,” then away on the road again. An occasional report of a gun could be heard. About 9 o’clock, A. M., we entered the town of Crab Orchard, and were here informed that the rear guard of the enemy had passed through only an hour before. The firing which we had heard was caused by a slight skirmish between them and our advance. Several prisoners had been taken.
After a few moment’s halt we pushed on through the town, and once more were on the road to Wild Cat, the place where we had fought our first battle, nearly one year previous. The weather was fine, and the roads were in far better condition than when we first traveled them.
Proceeding four miles beyond Crab Orchard, our brigade left the main body, and turned off on a road leading to the left. Just before dark, and after having gone some six or eight miles, we were obliged to turn back, to find a suitable camping ground, as there were several high hills which we could not ascend at night. The road being very narrow, with a thick growth of trees and underbrush on either side, it was fully two hours ere we got fairly turned about. We then went one half a mile, and camped in a cornfield, near a small creek.
October 16th, resumed our march. Nothing worthy of note occurred during the day. About 3 P. M. passed through Mount Vernon. Did not make any halt. At night camped three miles from the crossing of Rock Castle River.
The next morning, early, moved forward, a part of the battery in advance. Captain Standart acted as a guide, from his previous knowledge of the country. He, with the advance, consisting of some cavalry and the Thirty-sixth Indiana Infantry, proceeded on some distance beyond Wild Cat, and on the road to London. When three miles beyond the old battle ground, they suddenly encountered quite a force of the enemy, when a brisk skirmish took place. In a short time our forces succeeded in driving the Rebels, killing and wounding several of their number, and taking a few prisoners. Our loss was six or eight killed and wounded. Captain Standart had a very narrow escape, as one of the Thirty sixth Indiana was killed at his side.
Our entire battery, with the rest of the brigade, arrived at the summit of Wild Cat Mountain about 2 P. M. We then camped on the same place we had occupied on the first battle, and our guns were placed in almost the same position that they were in when we hurled death and destruction into the enemy’s ranks nearly one year ago. Appearances indicated that we were to have another battle. It would indeed be a singular coincidence should we again fight on the old ground.
Our battery, being the only company of our present division that had participated in the former battle, was the center of attraction, and many a tough “yarn” was told by our men of their exceeding valor at that time.
Lieutenant Bennett here left us to take command of a battery in Virginia.
During the day of October 18th, there was considerable movement among the troops, and, for a time, it seemed as if we were about to have an engagement. But still it was thought that the Rebels would make for Cumberland Gap as speedily as possible. Some of our troops went out on the Winding Glade Road. Two of our guns were sent with them. Another body went towards London. Troops were constantly arriving. In the afternoon considerable firing was heard in the direction taken by our two guns. It was soon ascertained that a lively fight had taken place between our men and some Rebel Cavalry and Infantry. Our troops soon drove them, taking about one hundred prisoners, and between two hundred and three hundred head of cattle. This occurred about four miles from Wild Cat. The enemy were driven some miles, and several of them were killed and wounded. Four men were wounded on our side.
About 10 o’clock, October 19th, were ordered to follow after the advance. A march of six or eight miles brought us to their encampment. It was located at what is called Scovill’s Corners, or Cross-Roads, being where the Richmond road intersects the Lexington pike. We remained here during the night.
At 2 o’clock on the morning of the 20th, our Battery was ordered out, to go on a reconnoisance, as was also the greater part of the brigade. All baggage-wagons, tents, and camp equipments, were left behind. The men took but one day’s rations.
Shortly before daylight the brigade separated in two divisions, and proceeded out on different roads; but, after being absent all day without meeting with any of the enemy, with the exception of a few stragglers, whom they captured, they returned to camp. The Rebels being alarmed at the near approach of our forces had hastily beat a retreat, burning several of their transportation wagons, to prevent their falling into Union hands.
October 21st. Just one year ago this day was fought the battle of Wild Cat; and we were only six miles from the place. All was quiet in camp.
Another reconnoizance was made, commencing October 22d. Our Battery went towards Manchester. The expedition was gone three days. Their object was to destroy the salt works near Manchester, on which the Rebels depended for a supply of that necessary article of consumption.
Having accomplished their purpose, and nothing further remaining to be done, the expedition returned to camp on the morning of October 25th. On the day previous, several citizens of London came into camp, and reported a large body of Secesh cavalry in the town. It was thought that, owing to the absence of the greater part of our force, the Rebels might take advantage of it, and make an attack on our camp during the night. Accordingly the men belonging to our Battery were all armed with muskets, and given several rounds of amunition. We were notified to hold ourselves in readiness to repel an attack. For the first time our artillerymen were transformed into infantry. About one hundred refugees from East Tennessee came into camp, and were also armed. The night, however, passed without any alarm. Our troops arriving the next morning, we all again got in motion, and proceeded back through Wild Cat. Arrived at the Rock Castle river crossing, and camped for the night.
There was a very heavy snow storm during the night, and in the morning the ground was covered to the depth of several inches; but, the weather being mild, it rapidly disappeared. Got an early start, and pushed on through the mud and slush. At noon arrived at Mount Vernon, and halted for an hour in a large field, and cooked our dinner. At 2 o’clock we again moved forward, and went towards Somerset. The weather was now growing colder, and the snow had made the roads very heavy, so that our progress was but slow. It was a cheerless and comfortless march. Little do those at home, who tread only on hard, dry pavements, know where a soldier’s feet hath been. We toiled on through the mud for about six miles, and then camped for the night. The snow was still quite deep, but we succeeded in getting some hay, and, clearing the ground, spread our blankets on the hay, then built large fires, and lay down to rest. Thus we managed to pass the night in tolerable comfort. It must be borne in mind that, as yet, we were without tents, and had been so ever since leaving Nashville.
The next morning, October 27th, we were up betimes, and, after breakfast, were again on the road. The sun shone brightly, yet the air was quite chilly. We marched about twenty miles, and at night camped near a small creek, two miles from Somerset.
The day succeeding we all remained in camp, and passed the time in looking over old letters—as dear to us as household words—and now and then a sly look was given to some well-worn miniature of a nameless friend far away in some Northern home. Thus passed the day, and the stars came out, and
“Sat their sentinel watch in the sky,”
and found us sunk on the ground overpowered with sleep.
The following morning we were again on the march. Passed through Somerset at 8 o’clock, and went out on the road to Fishing Creek. Found all the places of business closed, and the town looking quite gloomy. The greater part of the inhabitants had left previous to the Rebel army entering. We were warmly welcomed by those who remained—especially the members of our Battery, as most of us were well known. As we passed the hill on which we had been so long quartered the previous winter, all eyes were turned towards it, and many a familiar spot was pointed out. It seemed to us like an old home.
We crossed Fishing Creek about 11 o’clock, A. M., and here remained until the following morning.
October 30th. Resumed our march, and, at 9 o’clock, A. M., passed the battle ground of Mill Springs.
Old stories of the battle were told, as we passed the familiar places where the conflict had raged. Many a tree bore the marks of cannon ball and shell. The fences were riddled with bullet holes, as evidences of the terrible work of January 19th, 1862, and which will long be remembered as an eventful day in future history.
We saw many graves of those noble heroes who that day gave up their lives in their Country’s cause. Peace to their ashes.
Marched about twenty miles this day, and camped near the road.
The next day we continued our march, and at dark crossed Green River, and camped one half-mile from Columbia, having marched twenty-one miles.
November 1st. Remained in camp. A general muster was had, for the purpose of making out the pay-roll. Weather clear and pleasant.
The next day resumed our march at noon, and, passing through Columbia at dark, camped near a creek, eight miles from last night’s camp.
November 3d. Again on the move, and at noon halted near the town of Edmonson, and remained long enough to feed horses and get dinner. Passed through the town, and took the road towards Glasgow. Marched eight miles, and camped in a piece of woods. The men had here a fine opportunity to gather hickory-nuts, which covered the ground profusely.
The next morning made an early start, and at noon passed through Glasgow, and camped one mile beyond.
We here found George Eldridge, with our baggage, tents, etc., which we had left behind at Bowling Green. Some of the sick, who had also been left, rejoined us here.
We remained in camp at this place for three days; and while here received some blankets, and a few articles of clothing, of which we stood greatly in need. Orderly Sergeant Kelley here received a commission as Second Lieutenant, and Sergeant Thompson was promoted to Orderly. Quarter-Master’s Sergeant, George Eldridge, was transferred on detached service, as clerk in the Division Quarter-Master’s department. The weather, during the time we remained here, was wet and disagreeable.
Saturday, November 8th. Broke up camp, and resumed our march towards Nashville. Marched about twenty miles, and camped near the road. During the day we crossed Great Barren river.
Next morning proceeded towards Scottsville, where we arrived at noon. Pitched tents one mile beyond, and remained until next day.
Scottsville is sixty miles distant from Nashville, and is the last town we passed through previous to entering Tennessee.
November 10th. Commenced our march at half-past 8 o’clock, A. M. At noon halted for dinner, a short distance from the boundary line of Kentucky and Tennessee. At 2 o’clock we were again on the move, and in the State of Tennessee, having been out of that State nearly two months. Marched only thirteen miles this day, and halted for the night. Weather clear and cold.
Early the next morning on the move. At half-past 3 o’clock, P. M., passed through Gallatin, without stopping, and took the Lebanon road. At night camped on the banks of Cumberland river, about three miles beyond Gallatin. Had all kinds of rumors during the day. One of which was that there had been a fight at Nashville. No reliance could be placed on these reports.
The morning of November 12th opened with a cold, drizzling rain. About 11 o’clock, A. M., we were ordered to move; and, after waiting until near noon for the Tenth Brigade to pass, we finally forded the river—which was at this time quite low—and marching eight miles, encamped for the night in the woods, near the Nashville and Lebanon turnpike.
The next morning, at 10 o’clock, we started towards Nashville, and on reaching Silver Springs, camped in rear of the town. This place is distant eighteen miles from Nashville.
We remained here for several days, during which time one of our men was tried by Court Martial for attempting an outrage on the person of a woman in Kentucky, while on the march from Somerset to Columbia. He was found guilty, and sentenced to serve six months in military prison, with ball and chain attached to his leg, and to forfeit two months’ pay.
While here, General Crittenden came near falling into Rebel hands. He, however, managed to escape, but several of his staff were captured.
After having remained in camp at Silver Springs for six days, on the morning of November 19th we broke up, and moved down the turnpike towards Nashville. Proceeded as far as Stone river, and again camped, being eight miles from the city. We remained here one week, with nothing worthy of note transpiring.
Broke up camp on the morning of November 26th, and moved towards Nashville.
During the march, one of our new members, who had joined us at Louisville, named Leonard Starr, died in the ambulance. He had been sick several days. His remains were sent home in charge of his brother, who is also a member of our battery.
We camped on the Murfreesboro pike, three miles from Nashville.
Our tents were pitched in a large open field. The ground was low and springy, and whenever it rained, the place was almost untenable.
The day after our arrival was Thanksgiving day, but it passed off the same as all other days with us. We had our usual dinner of sow-belly a la mode, and hard-tack a la mouldy.
Nothing out of the usual course occurred, until December 8th. On that day, our brigade made a foraging excursion on the Nolensville pike. Went ten miles, and succeeded in obtaining one hundred and sixty-nine loads of corn, which was brought away in sight of the enemy’s pickets, without a gun being fired.
Captain Standart was acting as Chief of Artillery on General Palmer’s Staff; General Palmer having succeeded General Smith as Division Commander.
I will here mention that we were now in what was called the Fourth Division of General Crittenden’s Corps. Our Brigade is known as the Twenty-second, General Cruft commanding. Lieutenant Baldwin, at this time, was temporarily commanding the Battery.
On the 10th, we moved our camp about one-fourth of a mile to a drier piece of ground. Captain Standart also moved his quarters back to the Battery, but still retained his position as Chief of Artillery.
We remained in camp near Nashville just one month, during which time we had several alarms, but none of them of any consequence. Also made several reconnoisances on different roads.
We here received a supply of new clothing, harness, and other equipments; and, on the morning of December 24th, were ordered to have five days’ rations in haversacks, ready to march—but for some cause did not move.
Christmas went by in quiet, but it was only a lull in the war-storm which was soon to break upon us with a fury hard to withstand.
On the morning of the 26th we were ordered to move. All camp equipage and baggage, as well as those who were not fit for active duty, were to be moved into Nashville.
The storm was about to burst.