Recollections with the Third Iowa Regiment

by Seymour D. Thompson

Leave Mexico for St. Louis—Conduct of some of the men and officers—Journey from St. Louis to Savannah, Tenn.—Scenes on the passage described—Captain Albert Hobbs—Loyalty of the people on the Tennessee river—Move to Pittsburg Landing—The situation—Criticism, etc.

The day of preparation for an important movement, is always among soldiers a busy and a jolly day. It is a day of work and play. Boxing up camp utensils, packing knapsacks, loading wagons and cooking rations constitutes the work. Drinking, carousing and building bonfires constitutes the play. I need not say that those who do the least work generally do the most play. For this time I can only speak of the two companies at Mexico. During the day the order was work. Every thing passed off quietly and in order. By nightfall everything was ready and we only waited the cars. The troops who relieved us, a detachment of the Third Iowa Cavalry, had already ensconced themselves in our quarters.

It was now time to play. Some of my comrades had this failing, that in an hour of great glee like this, they would drink. There are a class of soldiers who never drink except on such occasions. The "riotons" commenced. Bonfires were kindled, bottles emptied, while cries and cheers and songs and peals of laughter rent the air. I would not wish to be compelled to swear to all the unmilitary proceedings that I saw that night, nor to what I think might have taken place, had Colonel Williams been less vigilant and some of his men more sober. The Colonel used every exertion, and with partial success, to keep those who were disposed to be noisy within proper bounds.

At 11 P. M., we went aboard a train of box cars, and having disposed ourselves for sleep as best we could, awaited the dawn of day. To our surprise the bottoms of some of the cars were covered thickly with sawdust. We raked it up and made our beds upon it, and many were careful to get their full share. When we woke up in the morning, we found that we had been sleeping upon—well, the cars had been last used to transport Government horses.

This train carried but five companies, the remaining portion of the regiment coming upon another.

Morning found us at St. Charles, where we halted for breakfast, and smoked ourselves awhile around some ugly fires. The wind blew cold and raw from the northwest, and made us wish ourselves again in our moving quarters. We soon crossed the Missouri river and got aboard a train of passenger cars which brought us to St. Louis. After a long delay at the depot, we formed battalion, and marched through the city with all the pomp of which we were capable. At the levee we went aboard the Crescent City, a boat which was waiting to convey troops. One that has not seen it can scarcely imagine the scene attendant upon a regiment of volunteers getting aboard a transport. The violent scrambling for the best places; the shouts of soldiers for messmates, and the grumbling of malcontents generally, make up a hubbub which never can be adequately described.

The remainder of the regiment arrived the next day, and the whole was transferred to the Iatan. It was not without the greatest difficulty that the officers were able to keep the men together. A number got into the guard-house of the provost guard; many straggled through the city, and some officers set the example; many became intoxicated, and before night, I am compelled to state, the scene in the vicinity of the boat was disgraceful in the extreme. A strong chain of sentries had to be stationed to keep the men from straggling.

Colonel Williams having procured the release of those in the guard-house and got the command aboard, the boat moved out at 8 P. M. The boat was heavily loaded with Government wagons and animals besides its human freight, and the river being heavy with floating ice, we moved slowly. In the morning we passed St. Genevieve by a channel which left it four or five miles to our right. It was a lovely sight as we viewed it in the distance, its windows throwing back the red blaze of the rising sun. I will say nothing of the unwearying beauty of the scenes through which we passed this day. We arrived at Cairo at 8 P. M., and consumed part of the next day in getting coal and subsistence on board. Commodore Foote's iron-clad fleet was lying here at this time, some of the boats undergoing repairs.

At 3 P. M., March 9th, we moved up the Ohio. It was swollen, sweeping over its banks, and through the forests on the Kentucky shore. We went to sleep upon its waters, and in the morning were steaming up the beautiful Tennessee. We arrived at Fort Henry at ten o'clock, and spent some time in viewing the work. Most of the troops in this vicinity were leaving or had left. General Grant was still here. Since arriving at Cairo, we had had vague rumors that we were to join an expedition which was to push up the Tennessee as far as Florence, Alabama. We now learned that the expedition was to be under Major General C. F. Smith, and that our regiment was to be assigned to the division of Brigadier General Hurlbut. This latter information displeased us exceedingly, as we had lost all confidence in that officer in Missouri.

Leaving Fort Henry, we soon came up with a large fleet of transports loaded with troops, and at the railroad bridge twelve miles above were a number more. This river, like the Ohio, was very high, and swept through the bottoms on either side. The boat did not halt for night; but when we awoke in the morning, it was tied up and taking on wood in the shape of a rail fence and a pile of staves. All day we steamed up the river. The day was bright and beautiful, and the canebrakes and cedars along the banks had a greenness that reminded us of spring, and a soft breeze enhanced the pleasure of the ride. And when we saw all along the shore the citizens greet us with demonstrations of gladness and applause, we felt that we belonged to an army of liberation indeed. The way was lined with boats loaded with troops, we passing them, and they passing us in turn. Before night, we found ourselves in a mighty transport fleet, numbering from eighty to ninety vessels, loaded to the water's edge with infantry, cavalry and artillery, and crowding up the river at full steam. Sometimes several boats would ride abreast and try their speed in the strong current, while the applause of thousands of voices would rend the woods. We will live long without seeing such a sight again. A grand army, equipped in splendor and exulting in success, moving far into the enemy's country with the speed of steam. A grand army of sixty thousand men, moving upon the waters. It was a glorious sight, and we could not tire of gazing. From it every soldier seemed to catch a sense of the great moment of the enterprise, and of his own dignity as an agent in it. As the sun went down, the bands struck up martial airs, and, in the obscurity of darkness, the scene grew more sublime. For every boat seemed a monster, its fierce eyes gleaming through the darkness, one of green and one of red, its dark breath rolling up against the sky, and the hoarse breathing of its great labor astonishing the still woods, as it hurried on, bent on some great purpose of justice or of vengeance. It was a great purpose indeed!—the preservation of the Republic whose foundation was the beginning of the "new series of ages."