The other case was that of an old planter in Alabama, about twenty miles south of Iuka. He, too, was rich, with negroes, cotton, mules, etc., and was tainted with disunion sentiments. General Mitchell deemed it necessary to clip the wings of his riches, also, lest they should fly over to the rebel cause. Accordingly, a detachment of two or three regiments, the Fifty-Ninth included, were started out one evening, about sun-down, to make him a visit. After marching all night, they came to the plantation at sun-rise, or just before, but not early enough to catch the old planter. The negroes, cotton, mules, horses and wagons, were taken in possession. Other plantations were visited, and many bales of cotton were found hid away in the brush, the hiding places being pointed out by the negroes. The expedition returned, with ninety bales of cotton, besides other property, to the amount of several thousands of dollars. These three cases were somewhat similar, but with this difference: the one was in accordance with guerrilla warfare, the other according to the law of civilized warfare.
The health of the regiment continued good while here, although some cases occurred from the excessive use of green corn, and other imprudent indulgences. One patient, (Nathan Logue, of Company B,) was taken sick on the morning of the 18th, was sent to town to general hospital on the morning of the 19th, and died that afternoon, at three o'clock.
The First Lieutenant of Company F, (John Kelly,) was here compelled to leave his company, and attend solely to his own afflictions. For several months his eyes had been affected with severe inflammation, which now became almost insupportable. The Surgeon, (Doctor Maynard,) had frequently advised him to resign his commission, and leave the army, until he could get his eyes restored to a healthy condition. This he persistently refused to do. His love of country was above all considerations of self. Said he: "My country needs my services. I was, also, instrumental in getting the boys of Company F to enlist, and they were generous enough to give me the second position in the company, and now I will not desert them. I will share their toils and hardships as long as it is possible for me to do so." Now his eyes had become so much inflamed that he could not see. The pain was excessive, his whole system became deranged, fever set in, typhoid symptoms soon made their appearance, and he became prostrated. He was taken to a private house in town, was well nursed and medically attended; but nature could endure no longer, and, in August he was buried at Iuka, Mississippi. He was beloved by all belonging to his company, and highly respected by every officer and private in the regiment. His love of country was only excelled by his love of virtue.
CHAPTER XXI.
Orders came to the regiment on the morning of the 18th of August, to march at twelve o'clock. This order had been anticipated for a day or two, and did not create any surprise. Although the men had been expecting to remain some time longer at Iuka, they willingly proceeded to pull down arbors and strike tents. The Fifty-Ninth had been in service long enough to learn that orders were not rumors or suppositions, and that to obey with alacrity was characteristic of a contented soldier; and that, however much they might desire to stay at Iuka, the better policy was to leave without complaint.
"Rumors, rumors; vague, contradictory! Surely, like the heath on which the witches in 'Macbeth' stirred their gruel, and summoned the spirits of many colors." As W. L. F. writes of Memphis, so Iuka is at this time—the gathering place of "black rumors and white, red rumors and grey." Every hour there is a new batch of them. One rumor says that General Buell is now in the Sequatchie Valley, east of Stevenson and north of the Tennessee River, nearly north of Chattanooga, with General Kirby Smith in his front, with Polk and Bragg in his rear, and with Forrest's cavalry on the north, which is large, and another formidable force on the south, leaving him a bare possibility of escaping with his command. Then comes another one on the same day, and tells that General Bragg was near Bolivar, with an army of twenty thousand men, and about to surround General Ross, who is in command at that place. And still another—that "Price is at Grand Junction," and is about to eat up the army of General Rosecranz, at Corinth. To the relief of some one of these points, the command of General Davis is now to be sent. Some suppose it will be back to Corinth, and some to relieve Buell. The latter proved to be the correct supposition, and hence the direction taken was towards Tennessee.
At twelve o'clock, the command moved out. At one o'clock it commenced raining, and continued raining till the next morning. The command marched eight miles that afternoon, going into camp sometime after dark—and dark it was, too. Wet and hungry, the men had to lay that night without fire or tents. It was too dark to find wood, and the wagons did not come up in time to pitch tents. About day-light the rain ceased, and the sun came up bright and cheering, and disclosed to view the small town of Eastport, and the Tennessee River. Two steamboats were in waiting at the wharf to ferry the troops over.
Eastport is on the left bank of the Tennessee River, in the north-east corner of the State of Mississippi. It is, altogether, a one-horse town, although some business in the way of shipping produce has been carried on here. The town is situated on one of those high, abrupt banks, which are everywhere met with along the Tennessee River. The view from the bluff just above town affords a most magnificent scenery. In the east the sun is lending a brilliancy to the dispersing rain-clouds of the night before. In the south the blue waters of the Tennessee, are seen emerging from a narrow avenue, among the heavy foliage of the forest trees, in the distance; and in the north the same waters are seen disappearing as they came, to find their level in the bosom of its rival—the Ohio. Beneath you lay the two steamboats, sending up their wreath of white, and their black columns of smoke. A line of soldiers are forming on the wharf to await the order for crossing. In the back-ground are the camps, with their thousand soldiers, in all conceivable attitudes, giving a lively finish to the picture.
Soon after sun-rise the troops commenced crossing. At three o'clock the Fifty-Ninth crossed over, and went into camp about one mile from the river. The 20th was consumed in getting the trains over, and in fitting up rations, etc., for a continued march. While here the boys amused themselves bathing in the river, and washing up their dirty clothing. Here, too, Colonel Post again came very near being captured. He, with Doctor Maynard, who was ever ready for a scout, or a dash at the Johnny secesh, rode out beyond the lines in the evening, and called at a plantation, where two or three ladies detained them until after dark. Soon after starting for camp they were ordered to "halt" by some unseen foe; but, not being inclined to an ambush, they put spurs to their horses, and made their escape, although several shots were fired after them.
On the morning of the 21st we again broke camp, and did not pitch tents until we reached Florence, Alabama. Florence is a beautiful town, of, perhaps, one thousand inhabitants. It is situated near the right bank of the Tennessee River, not far from the Tennessee State line. It seems to be a place of some business, but, to judge from appearances, it is principally occupied by wealthy citizens, who are destitute of employment. There is no other town so well calculated for the enjoyment of repose as Florence. The houses, for the most part, are set back some distance from the street, and the front yard is filled with most delightful shade trees. Many of these trees are quite large, indicating great age, but have been cut off at the top so as not to be of too great a height for ornament as well as shade. In riding along the street, in hot weather, the inclination to stop, and take a siesta under these cool shades, is almost irresistible. A glimpse of the white cottage, within, is only now and then obtained through the thick foliage of the trees in front. No wonder the citizens of Florence are opposed to the emancipation policy. To lay in the shade here, and have slaves to wait on you—what more could be desired?