General Martin gave us prompt notice that the march was at Dandridge, and in force. The move was construed as a flanking proceeding, but it was more convenient to adopt the short march and meet it at Dandridge than to leave our shoe factory and winter huts and take up the tedious rearward move. The army was ordered under arms, the cavalry was ordered concentrated in front of General Sturgis, and the divisions of Jenkins and B. R. Johnson and Alexander’s batteries were marched to join General Martin. McLaws’s division under General Wofford, and Ransom’s under General Carr, with such batteries as they could haul, were assigned to positions on the Morristown (Strawberry Plains) road, to strike forward or reinforce at Dandridge as plans developed. The men without shoes were ordered to remain as camp guards, but many preferred to march with their comrades.
I rode in advance to be assured that our cavalry had not mistaken a strong cavalry move for one by the enemy. We found General Martin on the Bull’s Gap road sharply engaged with the enemy, both sides on strong defensive grounds and using their horse batteries, but no infantry was in sight. General Martin was ordered to push on, gain the opposing plateau, and force the enemy to show his infantry.
He found the enemy in strong fight, but got the plateau, when the enemy deployed in stronger force; but his infantry did not appear. When asked to take the next hill, he thought it could not be done without infantry, but my idea was to save the infantry the trying march, if possible, and to that end it was necessary to push with the cavalry. He was called to send me a detachment of his troopers, and about six hundred came,—Harrison’s brigade, as I remember.
We rode away from the enemy’s left, concealing our march under traverse of an elevated woodland, while General Martin engaged their front attention. At a secluded spot, a little beyond the enemy’s left, the men dismounted, leaving their animals under guards, moved under cover to good position, deployed into single line, and marched for the second plateau. Part of the march was over a small opening, near a farm-house. The exposure brought us under fire of some sharp-shooters, but we hadn’t time to stop and shoot. As our line marched, a chicken, dazed by the formidable appearance, crouched in the grass until it was kicked up, when it flew and tried to clear the line, but one of the troopers jumped up, knocked it down with the end of his gun, stooped, picked it up, put it in his haversack, and marched on without losing his place or step and without looking to his right or left, as though it was as proper and as much an every-day part of the exercise of war as shooting at the enemy. Presently we got up the hill, and General Martin advanced his mounts to meet us. We lost but two men,—wounded,—an officer and a soldier. The officer was at my side, and, hearing the thud of the blow, I turned and asked if he was much hurt. He said it was only a flesh-wound, and remained with his command until night. From that point we saw enough to tell that a formidable part of the army was before us, and orders were sent for the command to speed their march as much as they could without severe trial.
When General Martin made his bold advance General Sturgis thought to ride around by a considerable détour and strike at his rear, but in his ride was surprised to encounter our marching columns of infantry, and still more surprised when he saw a thousand muskets levelled and sending whistling bullets about his men, and our batteries preparing something worse for him. His troopers got back faster than they came. In trying by a rapid ride to find position for handling his men he lost a number of his staff, captured, and narrowly escaped himself.
It was near night when the command got up skirmishers from the advance division, reinforced the cavalry, and pushed the enemy back nearer the town.
Dandridge is on the right bank of the French Broad River, about thirty miles from Knoxville. Its topographical features are bold and inviting of military work. Its other striking characteristic is the interesting character of its citizens. The Confederates—a unit in heart and spirit—were prepared to do their share towards making an effective battle, and our plans were so laid.
At the time ordered for his advance, General Foster was suffering from an old wound, and General Parke became commander of the troops in the field. The latter delayed at Strawberry Plains in arranging that part of his command, and General Sheridan, marching with the advance, became commander, until superseded by the corps commander, General Gordon Granger.
Our plans were laid before the army was all up. Our skirmish line was made stronger and relieved the cavalry of their dismounted service. A narrow unused road, practicable for artillery, was found, that opened a way for us to reach the enemy’s rearward line of march. Sharp-shooters were organized and ordered forward by it, to be followed by our infantry columns. It was thought better to move the infantry alone, as the ringing of the iron axles of the guns might give notice of our purpose; the artillery to be called as our sharp-shooters approached the junction of the roads. The head of the turning force encountered a picket-guard, some of whom escaped without firing, but speedily gave notice of our feeling towards their rear. General Granger decided to retire, and was in time to leave our cross-road behind him, his rear-guard passing the point of intersection before my advance party reached it about midnight.
The weather moderated before night, and after dark a mild, gentle rain began to fall.