It was immaterial whether the fighting for the possession of Chattanooga occurred ten miles away, or within a mile or two of the city. The Federal army accomplished its object at the battle of Chickamauga. The Confederates gained nothing that was of any benefit to them, but lost several thousand good soldiers in excess of the Federal loss.
This picture represents a scene which lives in many a veteran’s memory. A truce to the murderous picket firing has been established, and the men have met to exchange the things they may have for others that they want more. The rebels bring tobacco, rebel newspapers, and sometimes corn-bread and fresh meat, but mainly tobacco. The Union soldiers bring coffee, hardtack, papers, knives, combs and similar articles, but mainly coffee. The rebels wanted many things which were plentiful enough in the Union camps, but they wanted coffee more than anything else. They and their “women folks” seemed half crazy for “Yankee coffee.” They would swap anything except their muskets for it. A pound of Yankee coffee was the most acceptable present one of them could send back home to his mother or sweetheart. It was not often that one of them had the self-denial to do this. He wanted it too badly himself. From the way the Union soldier in the foreground is displaying his stock of coffee, he must be expecting to buy up everything the Confederates had in that section of the country.
The Historic Balm of Gilead
Johnson Farm, Waterloo, N. Y.
LEAVING his scythe hanging in this tree Wyman J. Johnson enlisted and was mustered into service at Elmira, N. Y., November 15, 1861; and became member of Company G, of the 85th N. Y. Volunteers. He served in 15 engagements; was promoted to Fourth Sergeant April 13, 1863; was wounded at New Burn, N. C., and died in the hospital, Raleigh, N. C., May 22, 1864.
The young sapling has now grown to be a massive tree, enveloping nearly all of the scythe, and becoming indeed, a living monument of the dead.
CHAPTER VIII.
My Capture by the Confederates.
I was made a prisoner of war at the close of the battle of Chickamauga, Ga., Sept. 20, 1863. Being a mounted orderly on Gen. Palmer’s staff, my duties were to go where ordered, carrying messages from one part of the army to another. Gen. Palmer’s division held its position during the last day of the battle, and just about the time that the battle closed, which was near the close of the day, it was withdrawn. A short time before its withdrawal Gen. Palmer and staff, including myself and two other members of Co. C, rode away from the line of battle across the Kelly field toward the woods beyond. But before reaching the woods we came to an old-fashioned rail fence, and just as the fence was reached a heavy artillery fire was opened upon us. As near as I could ascertain it came from the extreme left of our army, some distance north of the Kelly field, beyond a patch of open woods, where I saw the smoke roll up from some cannon about a quarter of a mile away. The shots struck nearly lengthwise of the fence, cutting and splintering the rails and throwing the pieces about us in every direction, frightening our horses so that we were prevented from crossing the fence as soon as we desired.