The 125th Regiment, Illinois Volunteer Infantry: Attention Batallion!

by Robert M. Rogers

"Just as church services were about to commence, there appeared at the door a messenger, who instantly sent the sexton up to the pulpit with a notice that: 'Fort Donelson had surrendered at five o'clock this morning; the gun boats were coming up; Buell's army is at Springfield, only 25 miles north of the city, and each man must take care of himself.' Then followed a rush and a tumult, the like of which that city had never seen before. Such hurrying to and fro of carriages, buggies, omnibuses and baggage wagons, with great loads of trunks and valises, making their way to the depots of the rail roads leading to the southward. The Governor, Isham G. Harris, had fled on a mule, and the legislators followed him as rapidly as possible the same day. Regiments of rebel soldiers were coming in from Bowling Green, stealing and plundering on their line of march, from friend and foe. The cattle of the farmers were shot down in mere wantonness, and fences burned. Nashville was the chief depot for the provisions and army stores for the whole rebel dominion in the west, and had the same importance to the department there, as Richmond in the east. Of these stores there were millions of dollars in value that could not be moved in time. Word was given out for the inhabitants to come and help themselves, which they did with a will. In the armory were deposited some five to seven thousand rifles. Two thousand of the best were brought out by order of General Floyd, and burned. All these had been impressed from the people in the state, forcibly or otherwise, as they could be found in the owner's houses. Two elegant steam boats, formerly in the Nashville and New Orleans trade, purchased by the Jeff Davis government at a cost of $35,000 each, and in process of being converted into gun boats, were burned. The rail road bridge that cost 50,000, and the wire suspension bridge, costing $150,000, both beautiful structures, were also burned. The mayor, with a committee of leading citizens, waited upon Floyd, and earnestly remonstrated against the destruction of the bridges, but without success. Another fine steamer, private property, was burned by the Texas Rangers. Five or six other steam boats that were lying in port, the owners had very prudently moved over to the north side of the river, and had thus escaped the torch of the rebels. From the morning of the 16th to the 24th of February, anarchy and rioting prevailed. Fierce and awful were the curses heaped upon Johnston, Floyd and Pillow, by the retreating soldiery. Some of them swore they were going home if it cost them their lives. Five thousand lives they said had been sacrificed by Johnston at Bowling Green, from exposure, bad fare and hard work, to which not many of them had ever been accustomed."

CHAPTER XIV.

Our regiment was finally placed in camp on top of some high hills in the western part of the city, behind fortifications of cotton bales. It brought to our mind what we had read about Jackson at New Orleans. On the top of these hills, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding country, we pitched our tents. We had issued to us the style of tent called the "Sibley;" patterned after the wigwams of the Indians, conical shape, with a large hole in the top to permit the escape of smoke. The tent pole consisted of a wooden staff four or five feet long, which rested, at its base, on an iron tripod of about three feet in height. Between the legs of this tripod we made our fires, fuel being provided by the quartermaster's department. At night when we had spread down our blankets inside of the tents, which were intended to accommodate twenty-five men each, we lay with our heads to the outside of the circle, and our feet pointing to the fire. It was pretty close packing, but we were good natured for the most part, and so we got along very well, although, occasionally, some fellow would make a fuss, but it was soon stopped by everybody else yelling at him to keep still, and yielding to public opinion so emphatically expressed, the disturber of the peace would smother his injuries, fancied or real, in his own breast, and sleep would soon settle down upon our household.

While in camp on these hills, some of the friends of boys of our company, came to visit them. Solomon Starr, John Huffman, uncle Archie Gryder and several others. We were all glad to see them, and in fact it made no particular difference who they had come to visit, we were all glad to see them, for we were nearly all acquainted with them; at any rate they had come from what we called "God's country," and they were heartily welcomed. They said they wanted to see how "soldiering went," so we fed them well on what we had, not forgetting to supply them liberally with that delicious dish which some one had named "s— of a b—;" where in the world he ever got the name from we never could find out, or why it should have been thus named, for it certainly bore not the slightest resemblance to any member of the canine race. This beautiful dish, in order that all may know how it was prepared, was made as follows: hardtack broken up into small pieces, and then fried or boiled in grease and water until it has swelled, and become as tough almost as india-rubber. This is what we regaled our guests with, and they accepted it with credulity. At night we would scatter them around in the different tents, as it was impossible to keep them all in one without putting us to great inconvenience. So one night there came up a heavy storm of wind and rain, and the water flowed through the tents, soaking our blankets and everything else. Our guests left us in the morning, expressing themselves as being fully satisfied with their experience. "Soldiering was not so very hard," they said, "but then, at times, was inconvenient, and indeed they must hurry home, they had not intended to have staid nearly so long as they had, etc., etc." At this late day, whenever you meet one of them, and ask him if he remembers the night he passed in camp with us at Nashville, he will tell you with a groan that, "yes he believes he does remember something about it," and will always add: "you have reference to the night it rained so."

It was not long before Nashville seemed to rouse itself, and assume something like its former appearance, and to look as it had before war breathed its desolating breath upon the city. The stores were opened, the hotels commenced filling up, and as far as war was concerned, nothing was observable in the city to denote a state of war, or that the city was under martial law, except the passing of army wagons, or the tread of the provost guard. Order reigned, and protection from crime was given to all. The theatres were opened and played to full houses nightly; mostly officers and soldiers filled them, although generally there was a fair sprinkling of citizens in the audience. Pieces bearing directly upon the war, with strong union sentiments, were placed upon the boards, and the performance would be interspersed with songs of the most loyal character. One day there came an order for us to "strike tents." We had no idea of where we were going, but our march was not a long one, merely across the Cumberland to Edgefield, where we went into the old camp just vacated by the 16th Illinois. A more beautiful camp we had never seen. The quarters of the men were made of cane, which the 16th had procured some where in the neighborhood, and out of which they had contrived to make a camp, at once beautiful and artistic. All of the old boys will well remember it.

CHAPTER XV.

We were now fairly at work doing garrison duty, furnishing daily details for provost guard, train guard, picket guard, and all manner of guard duty that can be thought of. Our picket line extended in the shape of a horseshoe around the city, both flanks of the line resting on the river. General James D. Morgan commanded our division, and General Mitchell the post, at Nashville. Strict discipline was maintained, and we often thought that if the citizens of Nashville would have expressed their honest opinion they would with one accord have agreed that never was there better order in their city. There were some union people here, but the most of the inhabitant were cherishing in their bosoms, and rolling it as a sweet morsel under their tongues, the cause of the south. On the morning of the 31st of December the battle of Stone River or Murfreesboro opened. The cannonading could be plainly heard at Nashville, and at night fall we were alarmed with the news that the right wing of our army had been crushed and driven back, and that the battle was strongly in favor of the rebels. Anxiety was visible on every face, and everything was done that was thought necessary to insure the safety of the city if the news proved to be true. We say every face, but we are mistaken, some there were who could hardly repress their joy at the intelligence that their rebel friends were in a fair way to drive back the northern "mud-sills," but these reckoned without their host. True it was that the third division of McCook's corps, commanded by Sheridan, our old division, and which three times that day had repulsed the desperate charges of the enemy, were themselves repulsed when the enemy, with reinforcements, for the fourth time assailed them. But it fought on until one-fourth of its number lay bleeding and dying upon the field, and its last brigade commander had been killed, then it gave way and all three of the divisions in the corps were hurled back together into the immense series of cedar thickets which skirted the turnpike and extended far off to the right. But Rosecrans was not whipped, though the rebels had momentarily overpowered the right wing of his army, and he vigorously set to work to retrieve the disaster. Brigades and batteries from the divisions of Rousseau, Negly and Palmer were ordered to the right to check the progress of the foe and rally the fugitives. The infantry was rapidly massed in an array of imposing strength along the turnpike, and facing the woods through which the rebels were advancing. Still the broken divisions of McCook disputed the ground while retreating, and deeds of heroism were performed by officers and men in those dark thickets. Yet in spite of the desperate struggle which marked every fresh advance of the enemy, in spite of the heroic sacrifice of life on the part of the officers and soldiers of the union army, the rebels still steadily advanced, and came nearer to the turnpike. Nearly two miles and a half had the right wing yielded, and all the reinforcements that had been hurried into the woods to sustain it, had failed. The roar of cannon, the bursting of shells, the crash of shot through the trees, and the continuous roll of musketry, all mingled in one tremendous volume of sound, which rolled on, nearer and nearer, to the turnpike, where the genius and vigor of Rosecrans had massed the forces that were to receive the enemy, when he should emerge from the woods in pursuit of our retreating battalions. Col. Loomis was there with his 1st Michigan Battery, and Stokes with the guns furnished by the Chicago Board of Trade, and Mendenhall and Guenther, with their regular artillery. There were also the troops of General Wood, the brigades of Rousseau under Schribner, Beatty and Shepherd. At last the long lines of the enemy, rank upon rank, charged from the wood. A sheet of flame burst from the union ranks, a crash rent the atmosphere, and the artillery shook the earth. The foremost line of the rebel host was literally swept away; and then both armies were enveloped in a vast cloud of smoke. For ten minutes the thunder of battle burst forth from the cloud, and when our battalions advanced, they found no rebels between the turnpike and woods, except the disabled, the dying and the dead. The soil was red with blood, for within a brief space of time, the slaughter had been awful. Our troops having repulsed the rebel left, pushed into the woods after them, and drove them back over the ground they had at first occupied. Other desperate encounters occurred during the day, all along the line. It was eleven o'clock when Hardee was repulsed. In the mean time, while the battle was raging on the right, an attack was made upon Palmer's division, but the rebels were driven back with loss. There was now a lull in the storm of battle, and scarcely a volley of musketry or boom of cannon was heard for three quarters of an hour. Some hoped that these bloody scenes were ended for the day; but the rebel leaders, disappointed by their failure to penetrate to our camp by way of the right wing, were preparing for a bold blow at the centre. All the reserves were attached to the centre of their army under Polk; and Bragg in person placed himself at the head of the columns. And now was presented an imposing spectacle. The nature of the ground in this part of the field was such that every movement of either army could be distinctly seen. The open fields toward Murfreesboro were smooth enough for a holiday parade ground. A fierce cannonade up the turnpike announced the coming onset, and from the very woods out of which the rebel cavalry issued on Monday evening, the first line of battle now sallied forth.

It came on in magnificent order; and stretching away diagonally across a great sloping field, its length seemed interminable. At a sufficient interval another line deployed into the open ground, parallel with the first, and ere the forward battalions were engaged, a third line of battle came forth from the same woods. It seemed that our feeble lines in that direction must be crushed by the weight of these immense masses of living and moving men. But the ever watchful eye of Rosecrans had detected the rebel design, even before their first line of battle had emerged from among the trees. The union army was like a set of chess men in his hands, and its different brigades and divisions, were moved about with as much facility, as are pawns and pieces in that grand old game. The least exhausted troops of the left and centre, were hurried forward on the double quick to combat this new effort of the enemy, and even from the extreme left, where Van Cleve was posted, a brigade was brought over to take part in the defense. The same formidable array of batteries and battalions again confronted the foe, as that upon which the violence of Hardee's corps had spent itself, and similar results followed. Almost simultaneously a sheet of fire leaped forth from each of the opposing lines, and for a few minutes both lines stood like walls of stone, discharging their deadly missiles into each others bosoms. Then the rebels attempted to charge, but a storm of lead and iron hail burst in their faces, and all around them, sweeping them down by hundreds. If once the soldiers of the union wavered before this fiery onset, it was only for a moment, and in forty minutes from the time the first rebel line marched forth, all three of them had been dashed to pieces, and the survivors of the conflict flying in wild confusion over the slope, were disappearing in the depths of the woods. The battle for the day was over. But who can describe the sufferings which followed. The night air was pinching cold, and in the midst of those gloomy forests of pine and cedars on the right, numbers of men lay freezing, bleeding, dying; whom no human hand would ever succor. The rebel pickets advanced at night to the edge of the woods skirting the open ground, which was the scene of Hardee's terrible repulse. The hostile lines of battle were probably a thousand yards apart. The intervening space was covered with wounded who could not be carried off. He who chose to risk it, could crawl carefully up to the edge of the woods, and hear the shrieks and groans of the wounded men who were laying by hundreds among the trees. The men in our advance line lay down as well as they could upon the ground over which the storm of battle had swept. It was difficult to distinguish the bodies of the sleepers from the corpses, living and dead were slumbering peacefully together. There were places that night, indeed, where sleep came not to steep the senses in gentle forgetfulness. The poor soldier, whom the bullets of the enemy had not yet reached, could gather a few leaves, or sticks, or corn stalks, for a bed, clasp his faithful rifle in his arms, and with his blanket around him, if he were so fortunate as to possess one, sleep soundly, notwithstanding the bitter cold. He could build no fires, for that would reveal our position to the enemy; but so fatigued was he, that he could still slumber although his frame shivered involuntarily in the windy night atmosphere. But the mangled hero, laying in the field or hospital, knew no repose. Pain drove sleep away, and to those who felt themselves maimed, crippled for life, the keen mental anguish must have been more intolerable than physical pain. And there were the faithful surgeons, too, who knew no rest from their dreadful labors, and toiled on through the long and weary night. And so the days passed until Sunday came, and the soldiers awoke on Sunday morning to find the ground covered with snow, and on that day General Rosecrans entered Murfreesboro; Bragg having retreated with all his force. The total loss incurred by the union army was 11,285, killed, wounded and missing; of this number 2,800 were missing. The rebel loss was estimated at over 14,000 killed and wounded. And so ended the battle of Murfreesboro, one of the bloodiest battles of the war. It had been gained at a terrible cost of life and blood, but such are the wages that war demands. We have given this description of the battle of Murfreesboro for the purpose merely of giving the reader to understand that the reports which reached our ears at Nashville, were not idle rumors, but that the situation had been a trying one for our army, and one that called for vigilance on the part of those who had the city of Nashville in their charge. Every preparation had been made there to receive the enemy, if, unfortunately, he should overcome our forces, but as the result proved they were not needed.