A few miles from Lenoir's, while we were halting for rest in a drenching rain, General Burnside passed us on his way to the front; under his slouched hat there was a sterner face than there was wont to be. "There is trouble ahead," said the men; but the cheers which rose from regiment after regiment, as with his staff and battle-flag he swept past us, told the confidence which we all felt in Old "Burnie."
One incident of that march is still fresh in memory. Captain Buffum's mess had secured several goodly turkeys, which were still fattening for the approaching Thanksgiving. They were entrusted that morning to Jim, the captain's colored servant, with many injunctions to faithfulness. Late in the afternoon Jim was discovered empty-handed. "Where are those turkeys?" thundered the captain. "I don't know, sah," replied Jim; "I was tired, and lef' 'em by the road." "O Jim," added the captain, "I knew you would yet ruin me!"
Chapin's brigade of White's command (Twenty-third Army Corps), was in the advance; and, about four o'clock, his skirmishers met those of the enemy, and drove them back a mile and a half. The country became hilly as we advanced, and our artillery moved with difficulty. At dark we were in front of the enemy's position, having marched nearly fourteen miles. Our line was formed in a heavy timber, and we there stacked arms, awaiting orders. It still rained hard; but here and there, we hardly know how, fires were made, to prepare the ever-welcome cup of coffee; and then, weary and wet, we laid down on the well-soaked ground.
During the evening a circular was received, notifying us of an intended attack on the enemy's lines, at nine o'clock P.M., by the troops of White's command; but, with the exception of an occasional shot, the night was a quiet one. The rain ceased about ten.
Two additional despatches had been sent by Grant that day. The first asked, "Can you hold the line from Knoxville to Clinton for seven days?" And again, at ten o'clock, he added, "It is of the most vital importance that East Tennessee should be held. Take immediate steps to that end."
The next morning, at daybreak, our line was noiselessly formed, and we marched out of the woods into the road. But it was not an advance as we anticipated. During the night Burnside had issued orders for his troops to return to Lenoir's. Such was the state of the roads, however, on account of the heavy rainfall of the day before, that it was almost impossible to move our artillery. At one time our whole regiment was detailed to assist Roemer's battery. Near Loudon we passed the Second Division of our corps, which, during the night, had moved down from Lenoir's, in order to be within supporting distance. But the enemy did not seem to be disposed to press us. We reached Lenoir's about noon. Sigfried, with the Second Division, followed later in the day. Our brigade (Morrison's) was now drawn up in line of battle on the Kingston road, to check any movement the enemy might make in that direction. A small force appeared in our front about three o'clock, and drove in the pickets. The Eighth Michigan was at once deployed as skirmishers. The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania at the same time moved forward to support the skirmishers, and took a position in the woods, on the left of the road. Just at dark, to feel our position, the enemy made a dash, and pressed our skirmishers back nearly to our line, but declined to advance any further.
Burnside now made preparations to withdraw from Lenoir's, and fall back on Knoxville. About the station nearly one hundred wagons were drawn up, and as the mules were needed in order to move the artillery, the spokes of the wheels were cut, and the stores and baggage in the wagons were destroyed. At the same time a portion of the Ninth Corps, under Colonel Hartranft, and a body of mounted infantry, were sent toward Knoxville, with orders to hold the junction of the road from Lenoir's with the Knoxville and Kingston roads, near the village of Campbell's Station. The distance was only eight miles; but the progress of the columns was much retarded. Such was still the condition of the roads that the artillery could be moved only with the greatest difficulty. Colonel Biddle dismounted some of his men and hitched their horses to the guns. In order to lighten the caissons, some of the ammunition was removed from the boxes and destroyed; but as little as possible, for who could say it would not be needed on the morrow? Throughout the long night officers and men faltered not in their efforts to help forward the batteries. In the light of subsequent events, as it will be seen, they could not have performed any more important service. Colonel Hartranft that night displayed the same spirit and energy which he infused into his gallant Pennsylvanians at Fort Steadman in the last agonies of the rebellion, when, rolling back the fiercest assaults of the enemy, he gained the first real success in the trenches at Petersburg, and won for himself the double star of a major-general.
Meanwhile the Thirty-sixth and the other regiments of Morrison's brigade remained on the Kingston road in front of Lenoir's. The enemy, anticipating an evacuation of the place, made an attack on our lines about ten o'clock P.M.; but a few shots from our pickets were sufficient to satisfy him that we still held the ground. Additional pickets, however, were sent out to extend the line held by the Eighth Michigan. The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts and Forty-fifth Pennsylvania still remained in line of battle in the woods. Neither officers nor men slept that night. It was bitter cold, and the usual fires were denied us, lest they should betray our weakness to the enemy. The men were ordered to put their canteens and tin cups in their haversacks, and remain quietly in their places, ready for any movement at a moment's notice. It was a long, tedious, anxious night; what would the morrow bring? It was Sunday night. The day had brought us no rest, only weariness and care. No one could speak to his fellow; and in the thick darkness, through the long, long night, we lay on our arms, waiting for the morning. How many hearts there were among us which, overleaping the boundaries of States, found their way to Pennsylvania and New England homes; how many which, on the morrow, among the hills of East Tennessee, were to pour out their life's blood even unto death!
At length the morning came. It was cloudy as the day before. White's division of the Twenty-third Corps was now on the road to Knoxville; and, besides our own brigade, only Humphrey's brigade of our division remained at Lenoir's. About daybreak, as silently as possible, we withdrew from our position on the Kingston road, and, falling back through the village of Lenoir's took the Knoxville road, Humphrey's brigade, consisting of the Second, Seventeenth, and Twentieth Michigan regiments, covering the retreat. The enemy, Hood's division, at once discovered this movement, but, lingering around the burning baggage and stores, did not press us till we were within about two miles of Campbell's Station. Humphrey, however, held them in check with the loss of a few killed and wounded,—among the former Colonel Smith, of the Twentieth Michigan,—and Morrison moved rapidly on to the point where the road from Lenoir's unites with the road from Kingston to Knoxville. It was evidently Longstreet's purpose to cut off our retreat at this place. For this reason he had not pressed us at Lenoir's, the afternoon previous, but had moved the main body of the force under his command to our right. But the mounted infantry, which had been sent to this point during the night, and which had moved out on this road, were able to hold his advance in check till Hartranft came up.