Rosecrans's situation became desperate, for it was practically impossible to supply his troops by the mountain roads. The army was put on half rations, and three thousand sick and wounded were dying for the want of proper nourishment and medicines. Fodder for the horses and mules could not be obtained, and ten thousand of them died. All the artillery horses were sent round through the mountains to Bridgeport, but one third of them perished on the way. In case of retreat, it would be necessary to abandon the artillery, for the want of animals to draw it. To add to the perils of the situation, the ammunition was nearly exhausted. Short of clothing, short of tents, short of food, the condition of the army was deplorable in the extreme. Heavy rains deluged the earth, and the sufferings of the men were intense. It is not to be wondered at that Rosecrans was prepared to resort to so mild an expedient as abandoning the place. Bragg was waiting for starvation, cold, and intense suffering to fight his battle for him. He was unwilling to sacrifice a soldier in an assault, when Chattanooga was sure to fall under the weight of its own miseries. Only in Andersonville and on Belle Island were the sufferings of the troops surpassed.
Such was the terrible condition of the army of the Cumberland when Grant started for the field of action.
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
Wherein Captain Galligasken details the Means by which the illustrious Soldier relieved the Army of the Cumberland, and traces his Career to the glorious Victory of Chattanooga.
The stoutest heart would have been appalled at the situation in and around Chattanooga. Rosecrans had failed, and the army of the Cumberland was "bottled up" in the town. Grant, still feeble, and unable to move without his crutches, was ordered to extricate the force from its desperate dilemma; and not only to do this, but to save the place itself. One less resolute than he, or equally resolute, but less patriotic and devoted to the loyal cause, might well have exclaimed, "I pray thee have me excused!" Disabled as he was, he might have pointed to his crutches, and let them speak for him. They were not only a good excuse, but a good reason for not going upon such a perilous errand.
Could he have been borne at the head of the victorious veterans of Vicksburg, and gone into the beleaguered and starved town to the musical tramp of a large army, it would have looked more hopeful. But this could not be. Sherman had been started from Memphis with a heavy force—the army of the Tennessee—to assist Rosecrans, and he was still struggling through the country, beset with trials and difficulties. Not with this faithful friend and this tried army could the crippled general march into Chattanooga.
On the 20th of October, Grant started with only his staff for the imperilled point, and arrived at Nashville the same night. Even on his route, invalid as he was, he worked at the solution of the problem which had been given him to solve. He telegraphed to Burnside, foreshadowing his plans, and directing the operations of his subordinate. He requested Admiral Porter to send gunboats up the Tennessee to insure Sherman's safety, and to facilitate the passage of his supplies. To Thomas, in Chattanooga, he suggested the opening of the road to Bridgeport. Without having visited the scene of operations, he knew all about it, and was ready to grapple with the mighty difficulty.
At Bridgeport, on the Tennessee, the general and his party took horses for Chattanooga. The roads were rifted and torn up by the deluge of rains which had poured down the mountain sides. Here and there the highway was but a narrow shelf on the steep mountain side, and the region was strewed with the wrecks of wagons, and the bodies of animals which had died on the route, or had been killed by being precipitated over the steep bluffs. At many points the roads were not in condition to admit of the passage of the party on horseback, and the animals were led over them; Grant, still a cripple, was borne in the arms of his companions.