When the Confederates came on the ground, then was the time for acts of brutality against their Union neighbors, the political feeling in the valleys being about equally divided. Burnings, hangings, whippings were common—all acts of private vengeance and retaliation. When the turn came and the Unionists were in authority, Confederate sympathizers were made to suffer in the same way, and so it went on throughout the bloody strife.
Once an old woman came to my quarters with a request. She was a fierce, hard creature, strong, of wrinkled skin, but set, relentless features, clothed in the homespun worn by all, and like all, dipping snuff. Stick in mouth she made her statement. Some men had come to her house that morning—she knew them name by name. They had taken her old man from her and hung him to a tree by his own porch, and there left him—dead. She wanted the murderers caught and punished. Not a word of sorrow or softness, not a tear of regret, but only vengeance, and that instantly. I immediately sent a good troop of cavalry to seize the men, if to be found, but little hoped it. They had, as usual, taken refuge in the mountains, quite inaccessible to ordinary attack, and were safe there with numbers of others.
These mountain fastnesses were filled with evil-doers of both sides, Union and Confederate; murderers, thieves, deserters—all crimes could there be known.
The authorities had found it quite impossible to break up these formidable gangs by any ordinary force. A special expedition for the express purpose would be necessary.
It was to these mountains that a large body of deserters from a North Carolina regiment in Virginia was making a little time back.
A whole company had broken away, but were overtaken at a crossing of the James above Richmond. They showed fight and killed several of the pursuers, but were taken back and the leaders tried by court martial. Ten were convicted and sentenced to be shot. There had been too much leniency, and General Lee had the sentence executed. The unfortunates were tied to small sunken crosses in line about ten feet apart, with a firing party in front of each. Their division, Major-General Edward Johnson's, was drawn up in three sides of a hollow square, the deserters being on the fourth. At the word the firing was accurately executed and the men sank dead or dying at their stakes. The division was then marched by, close to their bodies, and it was hoped the lesson would be salutary.
General Grant made a visit to Knoxville about January 1st, General Foster in command. Before leaving he ordered Foster to expel us from Tennessee, if not altogether, at least beyond Bull's Gap and Red Bridge. Washington was still uneasy and pressing him hard to put us out of the way.
Preparing for it, he ordered the Ninth and the Twenty-third Corps to Mossy Creek, Fourth Corps to Strawberry Plain and the cavalry to Dandridge—a formidable force. That army moved about January 15th. Dandridge is on the French Broad River, about thirty miles from Knoxville, and was the enemy's objective.
General Foster was invalided, and Sheridan for a short time took command until relieved by the corps commander, Gordon Granger. A smart affair ensued, General Martin's cavalry doing our principal work. Granger retired and Longstreet rode into Dandridge and was soon in the house occupied by his old friend Granger. Pursuit was made impracticable by the condition of roads and want of a bridge train. Practically nothing was accomplished on this trial, and our troops as well as the enemy were sent back to camps.