“The mortality among the horses and mules is frightful to contemplate. Their corpses line the road, and taint the air, all along the Bridgeport route. In these days, hereabouts, it is within the scope of the most obtuse to distinguish a quartermaster or a staff officer by a casual glance at the animal he strides. ‘He has the fatness of twenty horses upon his ribs,’ as Squeers remarked of little Wackford; and so he has. God help the others.
“I am assured that this state of things will not last long; that hordes of men are energetically at work improving our communication, and that we soon shall be benefited by the overflowing plenty of the North. The vigor and good spirits of the army all this time are developed in a most astonishing manner.”
Relief was nearer than the writer deemed at the time. General Sherman, at Iuka, reorganized his new command on the very day of the battle at Cane Creek, and sent General Ewing with a division to cross the Tennessee, and hasten with all possible speed to Eastport. A messenger from General Grant on the same day came down the river over the Muscle Shoals, with an order to suspend his work on the railroad, and press forward to Bridgeport. No message ever found a more welcome ear. November 1st, the chieftain led his columns across the Tennessee and on to the branch of the Elk River. But the river was unfordable, and with no leisure to construct a bridge or ferry, he was compelled to take a circuitous route along the stream by the way of Fayetteville, where he mapped out the routes for the different divisions, and hastening to Bridgeport, sent to General Grant, by telegram, the position of his army. November 15th, the unresting commander of admiring and uncomplaining troops reined up his steed at the headquarters of General Grant in Chattanooga, after more than three hundred miles of varied and difficult travel between him and Memphis, where he lay during the early days of October.
The hero of Vicksburg welcomed with delight his peer in the field of war’s most daring exploits. Though worn and weary with their unrivalled, if not hitherto unequalled march, such was his confidence in his brave men, he heard without hesitation the order to bring them across the Tennessee, secure a position at the extremity of Missionary Ridge, and also threatened Lookout Mountain; saying for himself, “I saw enough of the condition of men and animals in Chattanooga to inspire me with renewed energy.”
Away he flies to execute the commands. He does not wait for means of conveyance; he has no false ideas of dignity to interfere with the business in hand. Taking a row-boat, he glides before the strokes of his own strong arms, down the river to Bridgeport. The divisions are soon in order of march. But oh! what roads! Mud—mud—mud! is before the unflinching columns. They toil on, their leader sharing with them the exhausting labor, till three divisions, on the 23d, are sheltered from the observation of the enemy behind the hills, opposite the mouth of the Chickamauga.
Night comes on, and with silent, stealthy steps, a force advanced along the Tennessee, taking prisoners nineteen out of twenty men who were on picket duty. By daylight eight thousand troops were on the banks of the river, ready to cross over and fasten upon Missionary Ridge. Before the sun was above the hill-tops, a pontoon bridge, three hundred and fifty feet long, was commenced, and at 1 p. m. it was done. Proudly the grand cavalcade streamed over the causeway of boats, and advanced toward the desired position. These movements were favored by the concealment—a providential interposition—which “a light, drizzling rain and low-hanging clouds” afforded. Three o’clock found them safely lodged at the terminus of Missionary Ridge. Up the hill the gallant ranks pressed, completely surprising the enemy, who, in his vexation at the humiliating success of the flanking generalship, opened a fruitless fire of artillery and musketry. The “boys” could not allow this, and, dragging their own guns up the acclivity, soon silenced the noisy demonstration of impotent wrath. But beyond and higher was a spur, still more important in the coming trial of strength between the two great armies. Fortifying the ground gained, at midnight the orders passed along the columns to advance at dawn.
CHAPTER XVII.
The Place of Battle—The Battle-ground—General Sherman’s Part in the Struggle—Desperate Valor—Victory—Pursuit—No Rest—General Burnside in Peril—General Sherman hastens to his Relief—The Bridge breaks down—It is Rebuilt, and the Heroic Battalions save Knoxville—General Sherman again at Chattanooga.
Y reader cannot even imagine, in his peaceful home, the dread interest which broods over preparation for a great and decisive battle. Thoughts of the loved and absent throng the minds of brave men; hasty letters are written, and messages left, should they fall in mortal combat. Bibles are read, prayers offered, and hope rekindled in many heroic hearts. Ambulances and “stretchers” are made ready for the wounded, and surgeons arrange their instruments, lint, and bandages, while orders are passed from the commanding general down to the lieutenant. This work of preparation went forward at Chattanooga during the hours of November 23d.