We started one month ago to-day. Twenty of these days were on the road; 240 miles have been travelled. We have been transferred from the Army of the Tennessee to the Army of the Cumberland, and all of our record from this on will be with them.
Sequatchie Valley, Ala., Wednesday, Nov. 18. Reveille sounded before dawn and we were ordered to prepare to march, but they knew not at what hour. All baggage that could be spared was ordered to be left with camp guard. The knapsacks were to be left, but as the cannoneers did not feel disposed to lose all of them as at Vicksburg, they all strapped them on their backs to "tote 'em". Failed to draw but one load of forage, so a vacant wagon was left and the knapsacks packed in, much to the satisfaction of all. Hitched up at 6 A. M. Marched on to the hill where the infantry were encamped. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades had started, leaving tents standing. We were in the rear and compelled to lie in the road until 2 P. M. In the meantime a large mail was distributed. I received four letters, all from home, which of course were very acceptable. Moved down to the river where our Division had been crossing all day on the pontoon. No more than four wagons allowed on at a time, hence a tedious job. 4 P. M. we moved on to it. It consists of a firm scow boat anchored every sixteen feet and stringers laid across, over which were laid twelve-foot plank. It was narrow and shaky, but a tight rein and careful driving brought us over all safe. Had to cross two of them, an island occupied by Hooker's men in the middle of the river. Men busy at work on R. R. bridge, but not near finished. Came to a halt two miles from the river and lay there over an hour to wait for the train to cross. Large fires were built and the infantry cooked their coffee in their little cans. It was quite dark before the bugle sounded and we marched on at a brisk rate till 9 P. M. Our road lay through the Sequatchie Valley, which was pretty well under cultivation, watered by a large stream coming out of the solid rock a few yards above us, one spring furnishing water enough to run a flouring mill. A large cave was close by, which is reported to be a curiosity, thirteen miles long, out of which saltpetre is dug, but I could not visit it. Unhitched our weary and hungry horses having had nothing but two quarts of corn all day, and but a scant feed last night. Made our bed in the open air and piled in supperless.
1863 Under Lookout
Lookout Mountain, Tenn., Thursday, Nov. 19. Reveille woke us at 4 A. M. Slept cold. A heavy frost covers the ground this morning. Marched before the cooks got breakfast ready, so we had to take dry grub. Took the Chattanooga road and marched leisurely down, coming to the end of the valley; the mountains and the river coming together. Our road lay along the bank, and the R. R. several hundred feet above us, sometimes running over a precipice and then over stilty-like bridges. An engine ran by us here. We next left the river and soon entered the hills, winding through the valleys and crossing stony points, which was very slow and laborious as our horses were jaded out and hard to keep up. A few inhabitants were seen but they could not find much to live on. 4th Corps stationed through the valley as guards, each squad already located in neat "shebangs". Passed Sand Mountain at noon, a force being stationed upon it, the very high bridge having been destroyed near by and not yet commenced to be built. The R. R. is in bad condition and will require a good deal of labor before it will be rebuilt. A large part of it is laid with wooden rails, an iron plate fastened on top. Coal abounds in the hills. We passed a large bed of nitre, out of which saltpetre was manufactured for Confederate States' use.
Came in sight of Lookout Ridge about 4 P. M., and at sundown we were directly under the enemy's line, their picket fires burning brightly not more than half a mile off. Did they but have the artillery they could soon shell us out. The roads are very bad, filled with slough holes some of which were bridged. 8 P. M. halted nearly an hour to allow the pioneer corps to repair the roads. Most of the boys made coffee. Hard-tack very scarce. I had none since dinner. After the roads were fixed we moved out and marched about four miles right under the point of the guns which could not be brought to bear on us. We passed by Joe Hooker's headquarters. It was a very beautiful evening, bright moonlight, and pleasant marching. Came into camp at 11:30 P. M., our horses having nearly given out. When the wagons came up we fed horses and drew crackers, but I was not as hungry as sleepy, so I laid down in the open air with Point Lookout frowning in full view, on which is a battery of heavy guns that at any moment could hurl terror to our Corps.
With Grant at Chattanooga
1863 A Night March