The History of the Fifty-ninth Regiment Illinois Volunteers

by David Lathrop

Doctor Kelly here resigned his commission as Surgeon, and Doctor Bunce immediately applied for and received a commission in his stead.

Indications now point strongly towards another move. A general inspection of the troops and trains almost always precedes a forward movement of the army, and this is now going on in this department. The next move will be across the Cumberland Mountains, and the trains must all be in good condition, or they will never stand the trip. It is only about three miles to the foot of these mountains in a direct course from here, but it is said that we must pass through Cowen before we can climb them, which is ten or twelve miles away. Cowen is a station on the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, and is near the entrance of the tunnel which here runs through the mountain.

On the 17th of August, the army evacuated Winchester, and camped at the foot of the mountain, to be in readiness for crossing on the following morning. The 18th was spent in getting the artillery and trains to the top of the mountain—the regiments having to assist in dragging the heavy cannon and heavy loaded wagons over the most difficult places. The 19th completed the crossing, and the troops bivouacked at the eastern foot of the mountain until morning. The march was continued on the 20th, until a convenient camp was reached near Stevenson, Alabama.

Stevenson is a small town at the junction of the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad with the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. It is twenty-five miles from Chattanooga, and three miles from the Tennessee River. It is one hundred and twenty miles by rail from Nashville. The camp of the Fifty-Ninth is one mile from town, near the right bank of the famous Battle Creek, and within about the same distance of a high conical-shaped mountain, at the foot of which nestles the little town of Stevenson.

On the 28th the First and Second Brigades of Davis' Division moved out, and the probability was that the Third would soon follow. This the men were willing for, as they usually enjoy the march, in pleasant weather, better than much laying in camp. After a few days in camp the routine of camp life becomes tiresome, and the men wish for a change. Sickness usually increases in proportion to the length of time spent in lying idle in camp, showing that it is more agreeable to be moving occasionally. In camp there are many more indulgences in the way of gormandizing, to be sure, than on the march; but the mind, also, has its influence in preserving the health of the soldier. On the march the mind is withdrawn from brooding over the sacrifices made, and a longing for the return of those home comforts and associations which have been so long left behind. The anticipations of coming events, the changes of scenery, both of a natural and artificial character, such as hills and dales, valleys and mountains, rivers and creeks, springs and rivulets, large plantations, with their fine mansions and negro cabins, beautiful groves and lawns, or the isolated log hut of the native forester—all tending to relieve the mind of "brooding melancholy," preserve the health, and restore the convalescent, by their ever-changing attractions to the soldier, as he passes them on the march.

The sick were now sent to the general field hospital, at Stevenson, and, on the morning of the 30th, the regiment struck tents, and moved out. Passing through Stevenson, it proceeded, by a short and direct road, to the Tennessee River. Here it bivouacked till a pontoon bridge was in readiness for crossing upon. About four o'clock in the evening the brigade crossed over, and went into camp one mile distant from the river.

The 30th of August was a beautiful day, and, while awaiting the opportunity to cross, the boys amused themselves bathing in the river. The river here was three-quarters of a mile wide, and many of the men swam from one shore to the other, apparently without much difficulty. It was very amusing to stand on the bank and witness the feats of agility performed by these aquatic actors. After witnessing this lively scene, the writer and Lieutenant Sanderson, of Company A, seated themselves in the shade, near the pontoons, to witness the activity of the scene in that vicinity. Just below the bridge was the only place where the mules could be taken to water, and here the hundreds of mules and horses belonging to the trains were now being brought. Each driver brought six mules, fastened together, so that, by riding one, the others could be led without difficulty. On coming to the water there was such a crowd of them that a great deal of trouble was sometimes required to get them out without becoming considerably entangled. Swearing is a universal practice amongst M.D.'s, and now it was remarkable. It seemed as though each one tried to do more of it than any one else could. The writer had noticed that not one had left the water without leaving many curses resting on the "souls" of his poor mules. He finally remarked to the Lieutenant that he believed all mule-drivers, without an exception, would swear.

"It seems so," said the Lieutenant, "but yonder is a fellow who has been trying to disentangle his mules for some time, and he has not yet used an oath."

Patiently the fellow worked for sometime longer, but to no purpose. The mules were very stubborn, and resisted all entreaty to come to shore in order. Patience now ceases to be a virtue, and he let out—and, of all the swearing that had been heard that day, his was most satanic—'twas awful. The Lieutenant gave it up, and acknowledged that all M.D.'s would swear.

Colonel Post's brigade was now constituted rear guard to the corps train, and was, of course, the last to cross the river, and will be the last to cross the Sand Mountain, which now looms up before us. The crossing will be most difficult. The road is said to be very rugged, and in many places so steep that it will be impossible for the teams to pull the wagons up. The passage of the Alps, in miniature, is before us, and Colonel Post, in size and stature, as he directs the men in their labors, brings to mind the "Little Corporal," as he is represented in the "passage of those alpine heights."