We now put a mattress in the wagon, with plenty of bedclothing. We put McDonald in the wagon, well protected from the cold, and, after a sad parting with the family, proceeded to the Bowling Green pike, the old man driving the wagon and I following on my horse. We reached Bowling Green near night, just in time to witness the last cannon shot striking one of the main pillars of the railroad bridge, which was an iron extension, and saw it drop into the river. We crossed on a covered wooden pike bridge.
On our arrival in town, we inquired for a good place to leave McDonald for the night, which we were unable to find, but were recommended to go out about two miles to a Mr. Roe’s, who had a large flouring mill. This we did, and found excellent quarters for McDonald and myself for the night; old Mr. Smith driving back to town and taking the Nashville pike to try to find Breckenridge’s Brigade of Infantry, with which his sons were connected.
During the night we had a very heavy snow. Mr. Roe had his buggy hitched up and drove McDonald to the railroad station in town, myself following. Roe was unable to remain with us, as we were expecting the enemy to cross the river any moment and enter the town, hence left us by the side of the track and returned home.
After a while, Colonel Wharton, with about fifteen or twenty men out of our regiment, was ordered to destroy the depot and proceeded to fire it. A train with a few passenger coaches and an engine to pull it, was standing on the track on the outside, waiting for orders to move. A good many convalescent soldiers from the hospital, including my friend McDonald, squatted down by the roadside, waiting for the coaches to be opened. As soon as the fire started in the station, the enemy opened a battery on the place, using shells, which exploded all around us. The engineer got scared, uncoupled his engine and pulled out, leaving our train at the mercy of the artillery fire. Looking around for some kind of a vehicle to take McDonald out of there, as he was too feeble to attempt to ride my horse, I rode up town and found a two-horse wagon, loaded with hams, flush to the top of the bed, which the driver had taken from our commissary building and was hauling home. I stopped and told him that I had a sick friend down at the station; that I wanted him to go down there and haul my friend away. He said he wouldn’t go down there for anything in the world. I pulled out my gun and told him to go; and he went.
Arriving at the place, we cut open some infantry baggage that had blankets tied to the knapsacks and put about a half dozen blankets on top of the hams, lifting McDonald and laying him on top, covering him with more blankets. In the meantime, the station was about consumed and the artillery had ceased firing. After getting up on the square and finding our troops had all left, I told this man that he would have to drive on the Nashville Pike until we could catch up with our command, which he did most reluctantly and only under the persuasion of my gun.
About a mile and a half below town we found our regiment drawn up in line of battle. I sent for our surgeon, who examined McDonald and said to the driver, “You will have to drive on down the road until we catch up with my ambulances.” The driver said that he wouldn’t go any further; said I, “If you don’t, we will have to hold on to this team until we unload; I am going to save these hams for our regiment.” They were meat that belonged to our commissary. He said that he wouldn’t go any further, that we could take his team and wagon and go to —— with it. The fellow was evidently afraid that we would force him into the army; he thereby lost his team and wagon, which we had no idea of taking, and he could have saved them by continuing with us.
Our army now took up its long line of retreat for Nashville; our regiment covering the rear without any engagements, or the firing of a single gun. On reaching Nashville, crossing the Cumberland River on the suspension bridge about midnight, we got information that Port Donaldson had surrendered, which made it necessary for our troops to leave Nashville in great haste, which they did; protected in the rear by our regiment. The army continued to Shelbyville, while we were ordered to Fort Donaldson, to cover the escape of many men of the Fort Donaldson army, whom we met scattered all along the road. The weather was most severe.
The winding up of this winter I had a sad experience. About midnight, the second night out, we pulled into a cedar grove by the side of the road, the ground of which was soft and muddy. We tied our horses to the trees around us, and arranged as best we could, to get a little rest and sleep, putting down our oilcloths next to the mud, then our saddle blankets and each having a good blanket and overcoat for cover. My messmate, John Cochran, laid by me, and we soon dropped into a sound sleep, being tired and worn out, and without having had a bite of anything to eat that day and no forage for our horses.
Waking up some time during the night, I felt a curious feeling about my head. Putting my hand to my head I found my hair clotted with blood. I woke up Cochran, my companion, and told him that some one had struck me over the head with a gun, which proved a mistake. Our horses being tied in the cold, without any feed, had pulled the length of the rope and commenced pawing, when one of them pawed me on the head with a sharp shoe, which caused a deep cut of my scalp. We then decided we would move through the woods until we could strike some house, and soon struck a country road. After traveling perhaps a mile, we discovered a little log house by the side of the road and through the cracks of the batten door, we saw a bright fire burning on the inside. We knocked on the door, which was answered by a very old gentleman, whom we told that we wanted to come in and dress my wounds. He asked who we were. We told him we were Confederate soldiers, camped near there and the cause of my hurt. He received us very kindly, invited us into his main room, which contained a double bed where his old wife was sleeping. As soon as she saw my bloody condition, she jumped up, dressed, heated some water and with nice clean towels, commenced bathing my head and dressing my wounds. She then went to work, put some clean sheets and pillowcases on the bed and insisted on our lying down and taking a good nap, while she prepared breakfast for us.
While we told them that it was dangerous for us to sleep in a bed, as we were not used to it and it would give us a cold, we were compelled to take the bed on their refusal to listen to anything else.