Colonel, afterwards General Bob McCook, was in command of our brigade, consisting of the 2d Minnesota, the 9th Ohio, almost exclusively German (McCook's regiment), and our own. McCook was a most excellent officer and, although seriously ill, insisted on retaining command, traveling in an ambulance, and caring for his brigade. On August 4, 1862, he rode forward, as was his custom, with a small guard, to select camps for each of the regiments. Near Decherd, Tennessee, a guerrilla band of thirty or forty men, commanded by Frank B. Gurley, ordered McCook to surrender. Upon his refusal, they shot him in the stomach, and he died in great agony that night. The guerrillas carried off two of his staff officers. He had a father and three brothers killed in battle during the war.
The 9th Ohio became infuriated and burned all the houses in the vicinity and killed many citizens. Gurley, the leader of the guerrilla band, was afterwards arrested, identified by the staff officers who had escaped, tried by court martial, and hanged near Nashville.
After McCook's death, the regiment joined the army under Buell at Nashville, which the Confederates failed to reach before it was too strong to capture. Then began the race between Buell and Bragg, in command of the Confederates, from Nashville to Louisville. I am not writing a history of the war, so I shall say nothing of this extraordinary march which ended with our reaching Louisville twenty-four hours ahead of the enemy, with the exception of a little incident at Franklin, Kentucky.
My regiment was rear guard to this great army, taking care that the sick and exhausted should not fall into the hands of the enemy. Colonel Shepherd was instructed to impress transportation sufficient to care for all helpless men. I was ordered, with Quartermaster Benham, to seize such transportation as was necessary. The Confederate cavalry were harassing us flank and rear and, on arriving at Franklin, we were so hard pressed we feared we would lose a great many of our sick.
A friend reported an excellent ambulance and four mules on the outskirts of the town in possession of the wife of a Confederate. Going with two soldiers to seize it, we found the house doors locked, the blinds down, and got no response to our knocks. We directed the two men to search the barn and, if they found the conveyance, to wheel it out and attach the mules. They found the vehicle, wheeled it into the road, and returned to harness the mules, only to find that someone had cut the traces. While we were deliberating how to get the vehicle away with the ruined harness, the blinds flew open, an infuriated woman thrust her head through the open window and angrily exclaimed, "You miserable Yankees; get out of this! Don't you hear those guns?"
We did hear them, for our rear guard was engaged with the Confederate cavalry. Seeing the hopelessness of the situation, I called to an old colored man chopping wood in the yard, "Boy, throw me your axe!" He tossed the axe over the fence; I took it and smashed the spokes in the rear wheels, and Benham smashed those in front. We then bid good-day to the lady, who was as angry as Petruchio's Kate, and the last we saw of her she was still upbraiding us.
General Buell, although a loyal and efficient commander, was not popular with the volunteer army. Although generally chivalrous, it was disposed to interpret orders to its own liking, and became enraged at Buell's severity. He ordered that the commanding officers should not needlessly destroy private property; that he had noticed a disposition to burn valuable cedar fence rails unnecessarily, and that officers would see that only a sufficient number of rails were used to cook the food. A division commander issued an order in derision directing that thereafter none but the top rail should be taken by his troops. The troops understood this insubordination, and it soon developed that there were no more top rails.
This discontent with Buell made its way to Washington. When we arrived in Louisville, General Thomas sent for Colonel Shepherd, showing him a telegram from Washington announcing that General Buell was relieved and that he, Thomas, should take command of the Army of the Cumberland. Thomas said, "Now, Colonel Shepherd, I don't see how I can in honor obey that order unless it is forced upon me, because General Buell has consulted me in every movement he has made since we have been serving together, and I approve of everything he has done. In your opinion, should I not, before taking command, communicate these facts to the government?" Shepherd, loyal to Buell, agreed. Thomas telegraphed to Washington, and Buell was retained for some time. Later he was relieved by Rosecrans.
Bragg, failing to get possession of Louisville, and fearing to proceed further north, fell back to Perryville, Kentucky, where the important battle of Perryville took place on October 8th. General Bragg then abandoned further aggressive movements and began his retirement toward Nashville, Buell following him closely and arriving at Nashville in time to hold that city.
When the Civil War broke out, army regulations provided brass mountings for the soldier, retaining many useless and cumbersome impediments for the soldier's person because at one time they were useful. When fighting was done with arrows and spears and short infantry swords, men wore coats of mail, to ward off the strokes of the enemy. When firearms appeared these became ineffective and were gradually but laboriously abandoned. The soldier's "scale" represented the last remnant of the coat of mail, and theoretically was useful in warding off strokes of the saber on the shoulder. While many intelligent men knew its uselessness, no one had the courage to advocate its abandonment.