After this costly warning from Cleburne we were permitted to continue our retreat unmolested and reached, the next day, that haven of rest, Dalton, about which I have written in a subsequent chapter.
I am making my chapter on Mission Ridge short because there is nothing pertaining to it that is to the credit of the Confederate soldier as a whole. Yet there were some commands of the army that did their duty well and creditably.
In looking at the tablets of many—in fact most of the Federal regiments and brigades which contain a summary of their losses—I was struck with amazement at the very light loss sustained in this memorable engagement, so disgraceful to the Confederates. Some regiments losing only one man killed and ten or twelve wounded, and no brigade, so far as I noticed, lost more than thirteen men, which was an average of three to the regiment. We had a single company, Company I, of the Fourth Kentucky, that lost more men at Shiloh than a whole brigade here.
When considering the great advantage of position held by them and the insignificant losses inflicted upon the Federals, the losses but emphasize the fact that the Confederates must have been badly rattled on this summit and would no doubt have made a better fight from their entrenchments at the base of the mountain bordering the valley, over which the columns of Grant moved to the attack.
But let us think and reason for the moment, and if possible find some excuse for this miserable failure. It is well known to the expert marksman and sportsman as well, that in shooting on a steep decline you are much more apt to overshoot than when directing a shot horizontally or upward. This was the case there on these steep mountain sides, which furnishes the one excuse only for such bad marksmanship and the low per cent of casualties just noticed. But notwithstanding this fact a much more creditable record could have been made by rolling the huge boulders that were abundant down upon the Federals, whose progress was, of course, necessarily slow; and, lastly, when the enemy reached the summit exhausted, what were their bayonets for and why did they not use them? These are questions that suggest themselves to the mind of the writer at this distant day, while looking at this natural and seeming impregnable position. As stated before, the history on one part of the field would have been differently written had not the Orphans been taken away from their pets—"Lady Buckner," "Lady Breckinridge," "Lady Helm," "Lady Hanson," "Lady Lyon" and others of their companions in war. A feeling of chagrin creeps over me when I think of the surrender of these guns with their endearing names and hitherto immortal history.
But General Bragg, in his wisdom—no, his unwisdom—thought it best to send us away from our idols and hazard them in the keeping of those who betrayed their trust, and left us, like Rachael, weeping, because they were lost and we "also refused to be comforted."
I find almost innumerable tablets, markers and monuments placed here to commemorate the deeds of valor here performed by the Federals; but I find very few (which is well) to mark the Confederates and their deeds. But could I have my way every one of these would be removed and in their stead I would place the Goddess of Liberty, weeping for shame that her children had so dishonored their heritage.
I have said that I would be brief, and choking back the feeling of remorse and disgrace that this one incident in the history of the Confederate soldier has fixed upon their otherwise brilliant and incomparable record, I close by referring the reader to Murfreesboro.