About 2 o’clock resumed our march, and shortly after passed the spot where the skirmish had taken place. It was at a crossing of the road. We marched until 8 o’clock in the evening, and then camped near a small creek, where there were two or three stores.
September 12th resumed our march. We had skirmishers thrown out on each side of the road to prevent a surprise. Nothing worthy of note occurred during the day. Marched sixteen miles, and camped at Mitchellville shortly before dark. Had a light fall of rain during the night. General Buel joined us this day.
At daylight, September 13th, continued the march. At 10 A. M. arrived at Franklin, Kentucky, which place is on the Nashville and Louisville Railroad. It was reported that a large body of the enemy were hovering around the town. A halt was ordered, and scouts sent out in all directions. Each section of our battery went to the outer edge of the town on picket guard. After remaining one hour, and nothing seen or heard of the enemy, resumed our march. At 8 o’clock in the evening, camped two and a half miles from Bowling Green. Distance made this day, twenty-five miles.
Early the morning succeeding proceeded on the march, but went into camp one mile from Bowling Green. While here we suffered for the want of wholesome water—the only spring of good water being two miles from camp. We were obliged to use water for cooking purposes from a pond that was stagnant. Were kept on half rations, as we had been since leaving McMinnville. In place of hard bread, flour was distributed.
Were ordered to move on September 15th, but, after getting ready, the order was countermanded.
September 16th, again ordered to move, and at 5 o’clock were ready, but waited two or three hours for the word to proceed. Finally started and went one mile, when we bivouacked on side of the road for the night, it being impossible to proceed further, owing to the immense wagon train.
At daylight next morning again started, and passed through the town of Bowling Green, and shortly after forded Barren River, then halted long enough for breakfast. About an hour before dark we left the turnpike, and turned off to the right, through a piece of woods. It now commenced raining quite hard, and the night was very dark. Our progress was but slow, and it was 10 o’clock ere we halted for the night. The rain was still falling heavily, and the air was quite chilly. Large fires was soon built, around which we all gathered to enjoy the genial warmth. Water was not readily obtained, and we lay down supperless. Tired and hungry, wet and cold, we were soon asleep.
The next morning, September 18th, opened cold and cloudy, but soon cleared up. And now, for the first time since leaving McMinnville, we had three days’ full rations served out. Having found a mudhole, from which we could obtain water, all were soon busy in cooking their food, and for a time the camp was quite lively—the men once more wore cheerful faces, and our former hard fare was forgotten. Hardly, however, had we prepared our meal, when the order was given to move, and the grub went down our throats on a double quick. There was considerable “jawing” about that time. In a few minutes, we were once more on the road. We started at noon, and for the greater part of the way the road lay through a woody and sparsely populated country. At dark we came in sight of camp fires, burning brightly, evidently but a short distance ahead. But, for some reason, we were delayed for hours on the road, and it was midnight ere we arrived at the place. Here was presented one of the most beautiful sights ever witnessed. Spread out in a large open space, extending over many acres of ground, were the camp-fires of an army of fifty thousand men. The fires were built in rows a few feet apart, each mess having its own fire. The men could be seen flitting about from point to point, some cooking, some carrying wood and water, some sleeping, others smoking or eating. Occasionally the strains of a flute were wafted sweetly to the ear, borne on the night breeze. Then came the full manly chorus of some patriotic song, from one of the messes. Away in the distance we heard the sweet and touching words of “Rock me to sleep, mother,” sung by some brave but warm-hearted soldier-boy, as he thought of his dear home far away. Would that kind mother ever again fold her darling boy to her warm heart? Mayhap, even the morning’s sun might shine on his lifeless form. The vicissitudes of war are great.
At a distance, the camp resembled a large and populous city by gaslight, and it was truly a magnificent spectacle. Our battery was soon joined with them, and most of us being wearied by the days’ labors, lay down for a little sleep, as our orders were to move at daylight. We were informed that the place near which we were encamped was called Prout’s Knob, from a small mountain, which reared its rugged head just outside the line of the encampment.
Were routed out before day next morning, September 19th, to prepare breakfast. At daybreak, were ready to move. General Smith now took the command of our division in place of General Ammon.