Northern writers and speakers sometimes claim that the Confederate army was numerically larger at Chickamauga than the Federal army. I suppose this arises from the fact that they think General Longstreet was there with his entire corps of more than 20,000, when, in fact, but two reduced divisions of his corps were there to take part in the battle—namely, Hood’s and McLaws’s Divisions—and they participated only in the last day’s battle. These two divisions did not exceed 8,000. Bragg retreated to Chattanooga from Middle Tennessee a few months before with about 35,000, and the only accessions he had to his army were Quarles’s Brigade, from Mobile, numbering 3,000, Hood’s and McLaws’s Divisions, and a few loose detachments he had collected up from his department. His entire force could not have numbered more than 55,000.
These writers grow very eloquent over Missionary Ridge and draw gorgeous pictures of the “battle above the clouds.” The two fields are contiguous, and the battles were fought within a few weeks of each other. They do not admit of a comparison. I would not rob the Federal soldier of a single laurel, but what are the facts? After the battle of Chickamauga, Longstreet had left, taking with him General Bushrod Johnson’s Division of the Army of Tennessee, and other troops had returned to their stations; and General Bragg was holding Missionary Ridge with a force not exceeding 25,000 men, who were clamoring for a change of commanders. What could they now promise themselves with a smaller army against a heavily reënforced enemy? All of the renowned Federal leaders were at Missionary Ridge—Grant, Sherman, Hooker, Sheridan, and others—with an army of over 100,000. With such numerical strength and the prestige of such commanders it was possible, as it proved, to break through our thin line at a given point and, taking it in reverse, to drive the Confederates from their position. But here was committed a graver error than Bragg had made at Chickamauga, for the Confederate army should have been captured. Instead of a vigorous onset and pursuit, but a feeble one was made, and that was arrested by a single division under Pat Cleburne at Ringgold Gap, a few miles below there.
Chickamauga and Gettysburg were the two great battles of the war, the one in the Middle West and the other in the East. They were the pivotal fields upon which the cause of the South turned. Two more hours of daylight at Chickamauga on Sunday, and an assault by General Lee at Gettysburg with his entire army, would have brought about a different result. On these two occasions the Confederate had reached the zenith of his strength and enthusiasm.After this he was too intelligent not to know that he was wasting his weakening strength beating against a mighty stone which gathered force as it moved. He fought bravely and with some degree of success until the last, but with the desperation of a forlorn hope.
We cannot conclude without saying a word to the ladies who have honored this occasion with their presence. In fact, any meeting of Confederate soldiers would be incomplete without your presence. I would not be extravagant in what I say; but in truth the Southern woman has been the truest, the best, and the most devoted friend the Confederate soldier ever had. During the war she was his ministering angel in the camp, on the march, and in the hospital. She has been the light and sunshine of the desolated home that the war left him. Her sweet words of cheer have smoothed the rugged pathway of life and have guided his footsteps toward prosperity again. Her devotion has never flagged nor faltered for a moment; and to-day she is at work aiding and assisting the old, disabled, and indigent soldier, making happy his declining years. How can we forget you? We should be untrue to every principle of gratitude to do so. Before I die I want to see some lasting testimonial given expressive of our appreciation. Were I permitted to name it, it would be a shaft of the purest marble, the tall summit of which would touch the skies, and I would plant it upon the highest point of old Lookout, in full view of Chickamauga’s ensanguined field, where so many of the sons of Tennessee gave their lives for what is just and right.
CHAPTER III.
Wheeler’s Raid into Middle Tennessee in 1863.
In the latter part of September, 1863, just after the battle of Chickamauga, by order of General Bragg, General Wheeler was sent into Middle Tennessee with his cavalry corps. The Army of Tennessee was occupying the field they had so gallantly won at Chickamauga. He moved up the Cleveland Road to Red Clay, and forded the Tennessee River at or near Cottonport, some thirty miles above Chattanooga. The object of the raid was to cut off all supplies from the North for Rosecrans’s army, then at Chattanooga. The Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad from Bridgeport to Chattanooga was then in possession of the Confederates. The opposite bank of the Tennessee was closely picketed by the enemy, and the command was to keep as still as possible so as not to draw their attention until we had crossed. We reached the ford after a night’s ride, and rested there till daylight. I can never forget the beauty and picturesqueness of the scene that was presented that moonlight night, when four or five thousand cavalry forded the beautiful Tennessee. It happened that the Fourth Tennessee Regiment was in front; and, headed by a single guide, we descended the banks and dropped into the river, and then the line swung down the stream across the silvery surface of the broad waters, like the windings of a huge dark serpent. When we reached the opposite shore, I looked back upon the scene presented. This, with the reflection that we had turned our faces homeward again after our glorious victory, was soul-inspiring indeed. Nearly half a century has elapsed, but its recollection is as vivid in my memory as it was then. No creation of art could have been more imposing. There is too much stern reality in a soldier’s life for such to claim his attention, but this scene has left an impression that I can never forget.
As we reached the opposite shore the gray dawn of a bright September morning was breaking upon us. About one-half of the regiment was dismounted and silently moved up the bank. But a few moments had elapsed before the bang of a solitary gun was heard, and in another second bang! bang! bang! went the guns, and then a perfect fusillade. All were now wide awake, and the stillness of the scene was suddenly transformed into busy preparation for a fight. Another regiment was hurried forward, and thundered down the road leading from the river in the direction of the firing. A few more shots were heard, and all was still again. A large picket of mounted men had been driven off with the loss of several men and some prisoners. The remainder of the command moved out from the river as they came over, and in due time all were safely over. The trail of the ford was a devious one and very deep in places. One would reasonably suppose that many mishaps would have occurred, but nothing of a serious character happened.
The command then moved toward Middle Tennessee across the mountains into the Sequatchie Valley, where we went into camp for the night at the crossroads. Nothing of note occurred during the day. About daylight the following morning we were aroused by an order to saddle up and mount our horses, as the bugle sounded “boots and saddles.” In a few moments more we were moving down the valley at a rapid rate, not knowing at the time what was up. How vividly these stirring scenes flit across my memory! And how many incidents of dash and spirit do they bring to mind of the early morning “racket, when from out the empty saddlebows bravely they fell!” A few miles away we commenced overhauling Federal wagons, partially plundered; then the cry of a wagon train was raised. As the pace quickened, these captures thickened along the way; and after going ten or twelve miles down the valley to the vicinity of Jasper, there opened the richest scene that the eye of a cavalryman can behold. Along the side of the mountain hundreds of large Federal wagons were standing, with their big white covers on them, like so many African elephants, solemn in their stately grandeur. They had been rushed up there by the teamsters and abandoned. This was too rich a bonanza to be left without an escort; and in a few moments the rifles sounded from the mountain sides, indicating that we would have to do some fighting for such booty. Men were dismounted in haste and hurried to the right and left. A vigorous fire was kept up for a while, when the enemy, seeing that they were greatly outnumbered, surrendered after some casualties on both sides. The escort numbered 1,200, with many drivers of the wagons. Some of them had escaped by cutting loose the mules and mounting them. We knew that there was a large infantry force not many miles away, and we set to work destroying everything at once. Orders were given that no plunder was to be carried off. This, however, was but partially enforced. The wagons were loaded with all manner of clothing and rations for the army of General Rosecrans. Among the wagons were a number belonging to sutlers, with rich stores of all kinds. The result of the capture was seven hundred and fifty wagons, twenty-six hundred fat mules, and twelve hundred prisoners. The wagons, or the most of them, were loaded with rations for the army. The enemy were afraid to risk railroad transportation, and were endeavoring to provision their army at Chattanooga by means of wagons from McMinnville. It had rained the night before and left the roads so slippery that the wagons could not go over the steep mountain pass. Such of the mules as we could not take off were destroyed. The wagons and the greater part of their contents were destroyed on the spot, the débris covering acres of ground. I was particularly struck with the fine harness that had been stripped from the mules, as it lay chin-deep over ten acres of ground. Such a calamity as this would have been most seriously felt by us, and would have retarded movements for months; but with “Uncle Sam,” with all the world at his back, it made no perceptible difference. If it created a ripple of discomfort anywhere, we never had the satisfaction of knowing it.
From here we moved on toward McMinnville, traveling all night long with the prisoners, mules, and a few of the wagons. General Dibrell had been sent forward from the crossroads where we camped to take McMinnville. We reached there the next morning. Dibrell had captured the garrison of four hundred, with stores that had been shipped there by rail to be transported by wagon train to Chattanooga. It was said that there was a full suit of clothing for every soldier in Rosecrans’s army, besides an immense amount of rations. During the night we overtook the guard in charge of the prisoners on foot. As we passed them I noticed a boy among them who could not have been over ten or twelve years of age, dressed in full Federal uniform. I asked him what he was doing there, and he answered that he was a soldier and a marker for a Michigan regiment. I took him up behind me and carried him the remainder of the night, leaving him with the guard in charge of other prisoners captured at McMinnville. We now had about sixteen hundred prisoners on our hands, and the most perilous part of our raid was still before us. So it was concluded that we would parole them. Marching them out a few miles from McMinnville, we ordered them to hold up their right hands, swearing not to take up arms again until they were legally exchanged, and then started them toward the Kentucky line. How many of them observed their parole, we will never know; but it seemed to us then and afterwards that for every one we killed or captured half a dozen would rise up in their places. When we lost a man, he was “dead for certain,” and, worse still, none was to be had to stand in his place. In fact, it was this that forced us to quit fighting after four years, during which time we had the satisfaction of knowing that we were giving them about all they could stand up to, and this after calling to their aid the negroes and an immense foreign importation.
From McMinnville General Wheeler moved toward Murfreesboro. The column was a very long and cumbersome one with the mules and wagons we were attempting to take with us. We must have been close on the rear of the column, for by the time we reached Woodbury (one-half of the distance) we were in a gallop; and when we reached Murfreesboro we were at running speed. We found the command in line of battle close up to the town, forming a semicircle covering the roads leading to the south. We took position in line, and remained there probably half the day, expecting every moment to be ordered to charge the town. All at once we moved in column down the Shelbyville Pike. The object was then comprehended to be a feint to cover the passing of the led stock and wagons. During the halt here miles of railroad track was destroyed. Christiana is a station on the Chattanooga Railroad where a ludicrous little episode transpired en passant. The pike was about half a mile from the station, but in sight. A body of bluecoats were seen about the station, and a small troop was sent over to take them in. After approaching the place, something like a cannon was observed upon an eminence back of the station, with the gunners standing about it ready to fire. The information was sent back to the pike, and one of Lieutenant White’s guns was brought down. About the time it was placed in position to rake the station half a dozen white handkerchiefs were flaunted in the air. We went over to receive the surrender, and the would-be artillery was found to be an ordinary stovepipe set on a couple of wagon wheels. There was a set of about one hundred jolly, well-fed fellows, belonging to an Indiana regiment. They were well fixed up and were equipped with every paraphernalia for camp life—in fact, they had more plunder about them than a brigade of our army. Of this, what was not appropriated was destroyed, with apologies, however, to our newly made friends, whom we paroled and started back toward Murfreesboro. Many detours of this kind were made from the main column during the raid, and hundreds of prisoners were taken and much property was destroyed.