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

by Robert M. Rogers

On the evening of the 18th of September rapid cannonading was heard off to our left in the direction of Chickamauga Creek. Dispatches were soon received that Col. Minty, with his cavalry, had encountered the enemy at Reed's bridge across the Chickamauga, and was being heavily pushed. Orders were immediately issued for our brigade to move out to his support. It was almost sun down when we started, and when night overtook us the firing had ceased. It was getting dark when the head of our column ran into the rear end of a rebel wagon train moving on a road crossing ours. We were in the midst of a cedar thicket along either side of the road so close and dense that a horse could not have been turned around in it. The meeting of this wagon train was as much a surprise to us as it probably was to them, for we had no skirmishers out and were marching along in every day style. We were in a bad shape, certainly, but we will not stop now to argue about the matter. As quietly and quickly as possible the brigade was formed in line of battle at right angles with the road, and skirmishers thrown out, but no enemy was found excepting the members of a brass band, who had been following along behind the rebel wagon train. These, with their instruments on their backs, were quickly taken in "out of the wet." The skirmishers were recalled, a strong picket guard posted and the regiment proceeded to pass the night. No fires were allowed, and as quietly as possible we laid down on our arms. We had eaten nothing since noon, but we had marched rapidly and were tired, and worn, and soon were asleep. At the earliest peep of day we were awakened, not by the bugle, however, but by our officers going around and rousing up the men. Orders were given at daybreak to make small fires and boil our coffee. This we did gladly, and soon each man had a tin full of good warm coffee, which was highly relished. But we were not given much time to tarry, for soon the order came to "fall in." The entire brigade in line of battle, but without any skirmishers, moved forward down through the brush, which was more open than formerly. We had not proceeded far when up came the brigade quartermaster, C. H. Deane, of Peoria, as fast as his horse could travel. "Halt!" rang out. The quartermaster riding up to Col. McCook, handed him an order; reading it hastily, he immediately gave the command: "About face!" "File right, march." Back we went at a good pace. We of course did not know at the time the reason for this rapid movement, but we found out afterwards that we had been marching into the nicest kind of a trap, which the rebels had laid for us, and if the quartermaster had been delayed but a short time, the fate of the 3rd brigade, 2nd division, 14th army corps would have been sealed. We were surrounded on three sides and the rebels were doing their level best to close up the other end when we marched out just a little too soon for them.

And now we come to the battle of Chickamauga, the second field engagement which had taken place under the leadership of General Rosecrans since he assumed command of the army of the Cumberland, and as it may prove interesting, we will endeavor to give a more extended sketch of it than would be necessary if we only chronicle the movements of our own regiment. The morning of Saturday the 19th of September dawned on the first day of the battle of Chickamauga. The early forenoon passed away without forewarning of the approaching conflict, but shortly before 11 o'clock the storm that had been brewing all the morning on the rebel side, burst forth. At that time a long mass of rebel infantry was seen advancing upon General Brannan's division on the extreme left. It first came upon the second brigade, Col. Croxton commanding, and soon forced it back, despite its determined resistance. The two other brigades of the division at once came to its assistance and succeeded in checking the progress of the rebels and driving them back. But their column being, in turn, strongly reinforced, they advanced again with wild yells. So powerful was the momentum of the assault that it pushed Brannan back to and beyond his position in the line, thus uncovering the left of Baird's division, which at once became fiercely engaged. The storm rolling from left to right, fell next upon Johnson, and almost simultaneously on Reynold's, who wavering at times, but again regaining their firmness, gave back a little but again advanced, until the troops of Brannan and Baird, rallied by their leaders, came up once more to the work. Then the order was issued for the entire line to advance, and nothing in military history exceeds in grandeur the charge of that powerful corps. Longstreet's men, from Virginia were directly opposed to the troops of Thomas, and although they fought with stubborn determination, they could not for a moment check the steady march of those veteran battalions. They had already pushed the enemy before them for three-quarters of a mile, recovering all the lost ground and all of the material of war lost in the morning, and Longstreet was threatened with annihilation, when a new danger caused him to halt. While our left was driving Longstreet's corps, Polk and Hill threw themselves impetuously upon Palmer and Van Cleve, of Crittenden's Corps, who failing to advance, left a gap between himself and Thomas. These divisions were speedily broken in pieces and their complete rout was imminent, when Davis's division came to their support, and for a time restored the fortunes of the day. But the enemy, knowing that all depended upon his making a diversion in favor of the defeated Longstreet, massed nearly the whole of his available force, hurled it upon Van Cleve and Davis, drove the former to the right and the latter to the left, and entered boldly the opening thus made. In this junction, General Rosecrans called up the division of Wood and Negley, and threw them into the gap. After a brief contest the rebels found themselves matched. An advance was ordered, and by sunset the original position of the morning was gained. During the night of Saturday to Sunday, General Rosecrans made some changes in the disposition of his forces, and the line was so far withdrawn, that it rested along a cross road running north-east and south-west and connecting the Rossville with the Lafayette road. By this change the line was contracted by a mile, and the right wing caused to rest on a strong position at Mission Ridge. The different divisions were disposed in this order. From right to left, one brigade of Negley, Johnson, Baird, Palmer, Reynolds; two brigades of Negley, Wood, Sheridan and Davis, with the mounted brigades of Wilder and Minty covering the right flank. As before, Thomas held the left, Chittenden the centre, and McCook the right. Upon the right of General Thomas' line, as held by Reynolds and Brannan, was a slight rise in the plain, and from the top of this, the field could be commanded. It was the key to the position. During the night Thomas' troops had built a rude breast work of logs and rails for their protection. The battle of Sunday opened at 10 o'clock in the morning. The enemy repeating the tactics of the previous day by throwing themselves first upon the extreme left of the line formed by General Beatty's brigade, of Negley's division, and for two hours a fierce fire swept along the line of Thomas without his budging an inch. Again and again the rebels advancing en echilon by brigade from the cover of the woods into the open corn-field, charged with impetuous fury and terrific yells towards the breast works of logs and rails. But each time the fiery blasts from our batteries and battalions swept over and around them and their ranks were crumbled and swept away. In answer to a message from General Thomas, asking for reinforcements, which led General Rosecrans to believe that General Brannan was out of line and that General Reynold's right was exposed, orders were dispatched to General Wood to close upon Reynold's, and word was sent to General Thomas that he should be supported, even if it took away the whole corps of Crittenden and McCook. General Davis was ordered to close on General Wood, and General McCook was advised of the state of affairs, and ordered to close his whole command to the left with all dispatch. General Wood, overlooking the directions to "close up" on General Reynolds, supposed he was to support him by withdrawing from the line, and passing to the rear of General Brannan, who it appears was not out of line, but was in echilon, and slightly in rear of Reynolds' right. By this unfortunate mistake a gap was opened in the line of battle, of which the enemy took instant advantage, and striking Davis in flank and rear, as well as in front, threw his whole division into confusion. The same attack shattered the right brigade of Wood before it had cleared the space. The right of Brannan was thrown back, and two of his battalions, then in movement to a new position, were taken in flank and thrown back through the brigades of Van Cleve, then on the march to the left, throwing his division into confusion, from which it never recovered until it reached Rossville. The rout of the right and center was now complete, and after that fatal break, the line of battle was not again reformed during the day. The army was in fact cut in two. McCook, with Davis, Sheridan and Wilder being thrown off to the right; Crittenden, except one brigade of Wood's, being broken in pieces, and Thomas, with his indomitable corps, and Johnson's division of McCook's, remaining alone upon the left. But Thomas' corps also had been fearfully shaken, and retreat was now the only resort. Retiring his command accordingly, he took up a new position along the base of Missionary Ridge, the line being so formed that the left rested upon the Lafayette road, and the right at the Gap, representing the arc of a circle, and a south-east hill about its center formed the key to the position. Here were collected the shattered remnants of the powerful corps (not a fourth of the army) which had so long breasted the fierce assaults of the enemy in the forenoon. It was certain, however, that unless assistance should speedily reach it from some quarter, it must at length succumb, for the enemy emboldened by the rout of McCook and Crittenden, was gathering his hosts to hurl against them in a last mighty effort. At this crisis Mitchell's and McCook's brigades of the reserve corps, under command of General Granger, arrived. The fight now raged around the hill with redoubled fury. General Thomas formed his troops in two lines, and as each marched up to the crest and fired a deadly volley at the advancing foe, it fell back a little way; the men lay down upon the ground to load, and the second line advanced to take their place, and so on in succession. Every attack of the rebels was repulsed, and the enemy at night fell back and abandoned the assault. And thus did twelve or fourteen thousand heroic men save from destruction the army of the Cumberland. At night General Thomas fell back to Rossville, four miles from Chattanooga. Our loss in killed, wounded and missing reached twelve thousand; and fifty pieces of artillery and much material of war fell into the hands of the enemy. The enemy's loss also was extremely heavy. Saturday's fight resulted in a drawn battle; Sunday's in a defeat, which was only saved from utter disaster by the coolness and courage of General Thomas and his gallant command. That night our brigade marched back to Rossville and on Monday night we marched inside of the fortifications of Chattanooga, and so ended the battle of Chickamauga.

CHAPTER XX.

On the 19th of October, 1863, General Rosecrans, in General Orders, No. 242, turned over the command of the Army of the Cumberland, to Major General George H. Thomas, by order of the President. He had commanded us for nearly one year. The last words in his farewell address to the army, were: "Companions in arms, officers and soldiers, farewell, and may God bless you." We all liked "Old Rosy," as we used to call him, and very sorry to part with him, but we also knew the grand qualities of General Thomas as a commander, and we received him with open arms. And here also we received General Order, No. 1, notifying us that Major General W. T. Sherman assumed command of the Military Division of the Mississippi, embracing the Departments of the Ohio, of the Cumberland and of the Tennessee. Chattanooga was made as near impregnable as it was possible to make it. Three strong lines of defence were constructed and all the fords of the Tennessee river were closely guarded. But we were destined to have a hard time of it. The army would have to be thoroughly reorganized, and refitted. The brigade to which we belonged was ordered up to Caldwell's Ford on the Tennessee River, opposite the mouth of North Chickamauga Creek. There we remained until the battle of Missionary Ridge. Still the army was in a critical situation. The rebels had taken position on Look Out Mountain and Missionary Ridge in front of us, and were doing what they could to bombard Chattanooga, but the shells generally fell short; and on our extended and exposed line of communication, their cavalry were making frequent raids, and near a place called Anderson, in the Sequatchie Valley, they destroyed between two and three hundred wagons, about thirty of which were loaded with ammunition, and the remainder with clothing and supplies; the mules, which they could not run off, were shot, to the number of several hundred.

Our regiment was now detached, as it were, from the rest of the brigade, and the principal duty imposed upon us was guarding Caldwell's Ford. But as all the supplies for the army had to be hauled over one line of rail road to Bridgeport, and from there carried by pack mules to Chattanooga, and as the rebel cavalry were constantly interrupting this line of communication, supplies of all kinds soon began to fall very short. The boys got irritable and peevish, they could stand a good deal of hardship, but now their rations were cut short, and they often felt hungry. There was still a little corn for the horses and mules of the regiment, but it had to be guarded with an eagle eye or it would disappear very suddenly. The boys were hungry, and were constantly appropriating the forage of the animals whenever they could find it. This matter at last became monotonous, especially to the field officers of the regiment, who saw their horses day by day assuming architectural proportions, and they ordered their colored servants to guard the feed more closely. Colonel Harmon gave his boy orders to carry the feed for his horse into his, the colonel's, tent, and put it under his bunk. "They can't get it there," said the colonel with a chuckle, "without my knowing it, you may depend, I would just like to see them try it," and he rubbed his hands with glee, thinking that at last he had solved the problem, and that the feed of his charger would be secure. In accordance with his orders the darkey carried the corn into the colonel's tent, and carefully piled it up under his bunk. The next morning when he went to get the breakfast for the horse, what was his surprise to find that the last vestige of corn was gone. Hurrying to the colonel, with the whites of his eyes glistening, and his face drawn out of all shape with wonder, he quickly stated the case: "Why, kurnel, dar aint a grain of dat ar corn lef fur de hoss, de las grain done stole by by some one, sah—shah!" For a moment the colonel was puzzled, and hardly knew what to say; but the corn was gone for a fact, and it was useless to try and find it, so turning away he carelessly remarked: "I thought I heard something fumbling around under my bunk last night when I went to bed, but supposed it was a mouse." This circumstance afforded us much amusement. It seems that some fellow who had overhead the orders given by the colonel to his servant, had gone to the colonel's tent that night, and slyly lifting one corner of it, had thrust in his hand and quietly stolen, right from under his bed, the colonel lying on it at the time, the last "nubbin." There was no use trying to hide anything, it would surely be found by some one. But the boys thought a good deal of the colonel, and in all probability had stolen the corn just to show him that nothing was sure in war, for from this on they did not bother him, and the colonel's horse got all of his allowance.

The headquarters of the brigade was a short distance above our camp, and nearly every day Colonel McCook, or some of his staff, would go riding past, bound for Chattanooga. They would not get by the regiment, however, without their ears being saluted with such shouts as "hard tack," "sow belly," "give us our rations," etc., etc.; this annoyed Colonel McCook greatly, for the comfort of his men was always uppermost in his thoughts, and he was not at all to blame for the scarcity of rations. We knew this, but out of a pure spirit of deviltry would salute him every time he went by, with phrases like these. One afternoon he came riding up from Chattanooga, returning to his headquarters, and as he passed he was saluted with a most vigorous chorus of "hard tack," "sow belly," etc. Stopping his horse, aggravated sorely, as he properly was, and perhaps at that very time thinking of the condition of his men, he shouted back: "You may be glad to eat rubber blankets, yet." That seemed for a moment to quiet them, but directly some fellow shouted back: "If we do, you'll have to furnish 'em." This was too much, and the colonel proceeded on his way; this last remark of the boys settled him. That Colonel McCook arrived safely at his headquarters, we were soon made aware, by the receipt of an order forbidding any more such salutations, under penalty of severe punishment.

CHAPTER XXI.

Matters and things moved on smoothly, the old routine of guard duty, dress parade and all the regular business of camp life, including half rations, being faithfully kept. We now come to a matter which happened while we were at the Ford, which for a short time made things very lively and animated in the camp of the 125th. The Tennessee is a wide stream, and anything going on on the opposite side, can not be seen very distinctly with the naked eye. But to many of us, on the afternoon of the day to which we have reference, could be seen objects moving on the hill side across the river. These objects proved to be rebels, that side of the river was in their possession then, but what they were doing we could not ascertain, and so at last we ceased to pay any attention to them. The day passed as others had done, and when night came we retired to our beds to dream of home and loved ones. The night passed quietly, but just as the first streak of gray appeared in the east on the morning of Nov. 16th, 1863, we were awakened by the boom of cannon, and the whistling of shells, and the crashing of shot through, around and above us. We were not long in turning out of our tents. "What was the matter?" "Where were they?" was asked on all sides. The long roll was beat, and the voices of the officers giving command resounded through the camp. The regiment was thrown into dire confusion and the majority of them followed in the wake of the pay-master over the ridge. We soon found out where the shots came from. The objects we had seen the day before across the river had been rebels engaged in putting a battery in position in order to shell our camp, and as soon as daylight came, they opened up the entertainment. And a beautiful mark they had to shoot at, as the regiment lay on ground sloping to the river and nothing intervened between us and them but the broad bosom of the Tennessee. The pay-master and his clerk were with us at the time, and in his wake had come Charley Pratt, our sutler, to collect from the boys sundry bills they were owing him. These gentlemen, of course, were non-combatants, and as soon as they could, conveniently, took to flight over the ridge in our rear, where they took position, resolved, as they afterward said, to hold their ground at all hazards. But as regarded their toilet they were sadly deficient, and as they disappeared over the ridge, their shirt tails were fluttering in the breeze, looking in the distance like flags of truce. The whole affair lasted but a few moments, our third Wisconsin battery opened on the rebels and at the third round drove them away, having blown up a caisson for them as we could plainly see by the smoke.

There were many narrow escapes with us; one solid shot found a resting place in one of the boy's bunks, and others went crashing through the tents, but without doing any more damage than tearing them to pieces. But we were called upon to mourn the loss of one of our number, the chaplain. As was evident, he had arisen from his bed and was in the act of tieing his shoe, when a solid shot came crashing through his tent, tearing off half of his head, killing him instantly. This sad event cast a deep gloom over the regiment. Chaplain Saunders was a good man, and was respected by all the boys, a quiet unassuming gentleman. He had won our respect and confidence, and we mourned his death. We sent his body north for burial, feeling that we had lost a good man. And such is the fate of war. Sitting here at home in peace and security, with my little baby girl playing by my side, and watching me as I write, asking me questions and striving in her childish way to attract my attention, my mind wanders back to the banks of the Tennessee. And as memory brings up the recollection of those times, and the events which followed, of the brave boys whom we used to meet, and with them hold daily converse, now sleeping in their southern graves beneath the soughing of the pines, the tears came to our eyes and we throw down the pen, we can write no more to-day.