"A day or two after his arrival General Burnside sent for me to say that he had received information which he thought was reliable to the effect that the rebels had left the railroad up as far as Bristol, on the Virginia line one hundred and thirty miles, in good condition and unguarded; that at Bristol there was a round-house and a great supply of locomotives and cars; and that it was very desirable to get possession of this rolling-stock, if possible. He proposed that I make up a train out of the rolling-stock I had captured on my occupation of Knoxville and go up the railroad as far as I could do so safely, and reach Bristol if possible.
"It was a new business for me to go a-soldiering on a railroad train, but I cheerfully undertook the expedition. I had to secure the engineer and brakemen out of my own command, as there were none others available. Putting three of the companies of the Sixty-fifth dismounted on the train, we started out early in the afternoon, hoping to get over a good part of the road before dark, but within ten miles of Knoxville we encountered a small bridge burnt, but with the tools we had brought with us some of our expert railroad men were able to arrange a temporary crossing for the train. It was nearly dark when we reached Strawberry Plains, only seventeen miles out, and here we stopped the train, as I had learned that the President of the railroad lived here, and he would probably be at home, as he had fled from Knoxville before our arrival. I took a small guard with me to his house, where I found him. I explained that our general had sent me on an expedition up his road toward the Virginia line, and as we had no one on the train who was familiar with the road, I should esteem it a great favor if he would accompany us. Seeing the situation with my armed guard, he accepted the invitation with the best grace possible, but as we moved off the ladies of the household set up a fearful wailing, beseeching me not to take him, as they felt sure he was going to his death, notwithstanding I assured them that no harm should come to him.
"After comfortably seating the President, I took post with the brigade bugler on top of a pile of wood on the locomotive tender, and the train moved off at slow speed in the darkness on the strange road, without a stop until we reached Jonesboro, ninety-eight miles from Knoxville, after midnight. Here our engineer, not being familiar with the switches, ran the fore wheels of his locomotive off the track. While a few of us dismounted to aid in getting on the track again, I discovered that another train was lying on the track with a lot of invalid Confederate soldiers, who told us the train had just arrived that evening from Richmond. About the same time we heard a great commotion in the town, with loud military commands indicating the presence of troops. It was very dark and we were strange to the locality, but I ordered out a platoon of soldiers, who fired a volley or two in the direction of the noise, which was followed by a great clatter of horses' hoofs. The next day, as we came back, the citizens told us that the rebel troopers could be seen in all directions flying away, some bareback, others without firearms or hats. It proved to be a detachment of Confederate cavalry stationed in the town.
"At Jonesboro we learned from the station employees that another train would be due from Richmond about eight o'clock in the morning. Thirteen miles above that place the railroad crossed the Watauga River, where there was a rebel blockhouse or fort protected by artillery, and which we learned was garrisoned. Our only hope of getting to Bristol was to capture the incoming train and rush our own train unawares into the fort and take the garrison by surprise. So after leaving a guard in charge of the train found at Jonesboro, we moved up quietly about day-break to the first station this side of the fort, surrounded the town with orders to allow no one to pass out, and we lay quietly in ambush waiting for the train. Sure enough, it came along on time and we were greatly elated. But just before it got within gunshot of our ambush, it whistled down the brakes, stopped, and instantly ran backwards at full speed and whistling into the fort. Some one had given them a warning signal, and the fort was at once notified of our presence. With that our expedition to Bristol came to an end. General Burnside had been misinformed. The railroad above Knoxville was not only guarded but was in use from Richmond.
"Our return journey was uneventful except that, as we neared Jonesboro, some of the soldiers we had scattered had quite dexterously loosened a rail and slightly displaced one end at a sharp curve in the road on a down grade, which tumbled our locomotive down an embankment and disabled it. Several of the soldiers were bruised and the railroad President got a few slight scratches on his face. Fortunately we had the captured locomotive, and with it we took all the cars back to Knoxville. Our return was on Sunday, and as the news of our passing up in the night had got noised about, the whole country turned out in gala dress and with flags to welcome us."
My next letter is from Greenville, seventy-four miles above Knoxville on the railroad, the home of Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of the United States. It is dated September 12:—
"I have my brigade at this place, as also the One Hundred and Third Ohio Infantry assigned to my command and stationed here as a provost guard. Generals Burnside and Hartsuff (corps commander) have been very pleasant and kind and are disposed to do everything they can for me. They promise to send me on an expedition by way of Bristol into Virginia to destroy the Salt Works, probably the most important movement left in East Tennessee. I am in very good health and spirits."
We were still at Greenville on September 16. My chief trouble seemed to be with the mails. I had not heard from home for nearly a month. I write my wife:—
"It has been so long since I have heard from you. How I would appreciate a letter to-day from my dear wife, telling me about our family affairs, that she was well, that our dear little children were well, giving me some of the sayings and doings of my little Alice, to have some news from Evansville and the families there. If it had not been that I had so very much to do and such great responsibilities resting upon me that kept me actively employed, I should have been lonely, indeed. When I go a-soldiering again I want it along a river or railroad so I can get some communication with the outer world and my wife.