The Campaign in East Tennessee.
On the 11th of August Gen. Burnside arrived at Hickman's Bridge, Ky., and began making the final arrangements for his movement into East Tennessee. He received information that the Ninth Corps had been relieved by Gen. Grant, and was then on its way north, the advance regiments having already reached Cairo, and could be expected to arrive in Cincinnati not later than the 15th.
The Twenty-third Corps, under Gen. Hartzuff, had rendezvoused in three columns, at different points; one, under Gen. White, at Columbia; another, under Gen. Hascall, at Somerset; and the third, under Gen. Carter, at Crab Orchard. With this last column Gen. Burnside was to go.
On the 20th the General issued orders for a forward movement to take place on the 21st, and at last this long delayed, much wished for, and most fervently prayed for expedition was to start.
What significance those two words—At Last—had for thousands, yea, tens of thousands at this time. It signified to President Lincoln that at last one load which had been upon his heart for a year and a half—namely, his sympathy for the loyal people of East Tennessee—was about to be removed; it signified to those three great leaders of the Union men of that section—Andrew Johnson, Edward Maynard, and Parson Brownlow, that at last all their labor, efforts and prayers were about to bear fruit in the accomplishment of their most cherished desire.
It signified to Gen. Burnside that at last he could push forward an expedition which had had full possession of his heart—primarily, for the relief of a long-suffering, intensely loyal people—and secondly, to seize and hold as much as possible of the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad.
It signified to Gen. Rosecrans that at last he need give himself no uneasiness about the rapid transfer of any portion of the Army of Virginia to Chattanooga, via the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad, and after being used successfully against him, to be as rapidly returned back again.
But what an infinitely greater significance did these words have for the thousands of women and children in East Tennessee. In imagination I can see those mothers, wives and sisters (as they receive the news carried by some fleet-footed messenger over the Cumberland Mountains, by secluded paths) gather on their mountains, in their valleys, in towns and cities, and turning their eyes towards the mountains at the north, cry out in all the ecstacy of lightened hearts, "At last, thank God, dear fathers, husbands and brothers, you are coming back to us!" And in answer I can hear, coming from the throats of those fathers, husbands and brothers, who had come over the mountains into Kentucky in such numbers that they had organized eight full regiments of infantry and three of cavalry, "Yes! dear ones, at last we surely are coming, to protect you and our homes."