En route, Wednesday, Nov. 4. Reveille sounded at 3 A. M. and the sleepy camp was soon ready to march. Started at 5. It was a dense, foggy morning and the red glare of innumerable camp fires lit up the infantry in heavy columns, giving the surroundings of the camp a wild and terrible aspect. We moved out moodily, the stars lighting us on our way for nearly three miles and a half before daylight appeared. The road was rough and covered with pebbles which made it very bad for the horses. One of mine being barefooted is somewhat lame. 10 A. M. We came up on to the camp of the 2nd Brigade at Rogersville, the town half a mile to the left of us. The 4th Division had just returned, having found the bridge over Elk River destroyed. Then it moved out on another road leading north, which gives twenty miles more travel I understand. We halted for three hours, unhitched and unharnessed, cleaned off our horses and fed them. The 2nd Brigade moved out soon after we came in. The 3rd Brigade came up at 12 M. At 1 P. M. we again took the road and an easy march of six miles took us to camp on a good creek, an old fashioned breast-wheel grist mill close by, the name I did not learn. The first five miles was a flat timbered country, uncultivated, but when we came towards the creek it broke up in hills and rocks where poor folks lived and picked up a scanty living. As soon as we approached camp, guns were heard in every direction, more than last night. Several bullets flew directly over camp, but fortunately nobody was hurt. Officers of the day and staff officers galloped in every direction endeavoring to stop it. A camp guard was thrown around the infantry with orders to keep all men from going in who had guns. But General Smith had commenced too late to stop this Division from foraging. The guards sat down and always looked the wrong way, and meat in plenty was brought. Our mess had laid in a supply early in the morning: six chickens, a beef and a goose was our stock for eight men. Mail received late in the evening but I received "nary" one.
Gilbertsboro, Ala., Thursday, Nov. 5. Thanks to the corporal of the guard we did not get up till nearly 4 A. M. this morning, as he slept and did not wake the orderly at the proper time. But we had to hurry up to start at 5 A. M. which was a good while before daylight. Left the 3rd Brigade behind. They were just having reveille. A cloudy morning. Marched six miles through a flat country heavily timbered, with excellent soil, but entirely uncultivated. It lies in the hands of speculators. When we neared Sugar Creek it became bluffy and rocky, which was all fenced and cultivated by poor folks. Came up to the 2nd Brigade here and we halted three hours to allow them to get out of the way. We went to a neighboring corn crib, and shelled nose bags full of corn. Commenced raining very heavily. At 1 P. M. we hitched and started out. The rain fell in torrents but the boys were as merry as ever and forgot the wet in singing. Halting, the infantry built a bridge across the stream with rails. Marched very lively over a hilly road but rich valley. The clay, which in dry weather made good roads, was soon converted into bottomless mud. Came into camp at sundown at Gilbertsboro, Limestone County, Alabama. A very rich plantation here surrounded by very high hills. A large amount of fodder and hay was stored away in the surrounding houses which were soon emptied by the boys and fed to the horses or made for beds. Hungarian grass and millet was the most of it. Division commissary issued out plenty of fresh meat for the boys and there was not much shooting. This evening thirty barrels of whiskey was found buried by the 48th Indiana close to camp, so there were several drunken men in camp.
Camp on Richland Creek, Tenn., Friday, Nov. 6. Got up at 3 A. M. Moved out at 5 A. M. A clear cold morning, the roads very muddy. We soon struck a range of hills which we rode over. They were of solid rock broken off in ledges, very hard to travel with artillery, especially with the wheel horses. For six miles it was a continual stony bed, very steep hills and rocky declivities. Eight miles on we struck the Nashville and Decatur R. R. at Prospect. Followed it north for two miles through a very fertile valley well laden with corn. I got a handkerchief full of Irish potatoes from under a farm house, satisfied the negro for them, the master not at home. The track was in good running condition, built of "T" rails bolted together at the ends and the filling is of crushed stone. Turned east, leaving the R. R. to our left. Climbed a very high hill or mountain, a mile long, stopped an hour for dinner on the top. The wheel was locked for over a hundred yards going down, over the roughest road man ever travelled. Struck Richland Creek at the bottom, a stream as large as Big Black Muddy, unlike all other streams of this country. Followed it up stream for two miles, a fine stone wall built along the other side of the road, three feet at the bottom, two feet on top, and five feet high, of quarried limestone, inside of which was a beautiful cornfield. I got a feed for my team out of it. Forded the creek below Tom Brown's Mill. The regiment halted, stacked arms, took off shoes, stockings and pants, then waded in it. It was a rare sight, several hundred men walking through at once, bare legged, their unmentionables thrown over shoulder and musket high in the air. The water was waist deep and quite cold. To any but soldiers it would be a serious necessity. They took it very as a lark, each one vieing with the other to make the more noise by the way of singing, hooting, plunging, etc. Came into camp on the bank of the creek in a pretty grove half an hour of sundown. 2nd Brigade here ahead of us. Y—— tied to the gun all day with two feet of rope, for mutinous conduct and offering violence to officer.
Near Fayetteville, Tenn., Saturday, Nov. 7. 2nd Brigade started at 6 A. M. We followed at 8 A. M. struck a macadamized road a mile from camp which we followed five miles. The road runs from ——, a beautiful road high and dry. Extensive fields of corn on all sides. Most wealthy country we have seen. Elegant houses of frame and brick. Left the road a quarter of a mile from Elkton and struck north along hilly ridges, very stony and rough. Came into camp at 5 P. M. on a high point, five miles from Fayetteville in Lincoln County. Drew fresh meat from commissary, but we had no salt to cook, no salt in the Division. The timber to-day was mostly beach, grew very tall and large, beautiful timber loaded with nuts, and we ate many. Sugar cane of sorghum kind raised on a small scale by nearly all, I suppose to supply the deficiency occasioned by the Confederacy. Small wooden mills. Vertical rollers used to press it. Slept in the open air, not thinking it worth while to put up tent.
Fayetteville, Sunday, Nov. 8. A chilly cold night. Froze half an inch of ice on water, but we slept warm. Moved out early. Had a very long and steep hill to climb. Several of the teams failed, but ours came out all right. My off horse was put on the wheel in place of the one there, whose shoulder had been worn raw. Marched weary and slow through a hilly country. Most of the valleys were all under cultivation and very full of excellent corn, but a small proportion of it husked. I think the corn crop here will far exceed the best of Wisconsin's in number and quality. It is perfectly sound and untouched by frost. The road was very winding but not as rough as before. Came into camp two miles from Fayetteville before sundown, with materials for a good supper and plenty of corn for horses. 2nd Brigade camped here, and the 3rd Brigade came up late.
Fayetteville, Monday, Nov. 9. I laid in camp all day. 2nd Division came up on another road. One day's rations of crackers issued to us. The infantry regiments are entirely out. Mills were worked all day grinding cornmeal. Lieutenant Amsden of the 12th Battery went out with squad of Battery boys to pick up horses by order of Captain Dillon. Returned late at night with twenty mules and ten or twelve horses, but mostly too young for team purposes. We got one very pretty horse for our Platoon. They report abundance of all good things off from the road where "Yankee" vandals have not reached, with no end to come. No wonder that the rebs are making a desperate effort for the recapture of this country. We are in their very granary and without it they cannot live. A report is rife that Thomas has evacuated Chattanooga, but I trust it is not so. I would write, but there is no communication open yet.
Camp in Oak Barrens, Tenn., Tuesday, Nov. 10. Prepared for an early march. Moved at 9 A. M. as we had to wait for the 2nd Brigade to move ahead. Passed through town, which is an old fashioned place of quite a size. Looks as though it was the same twenty years ago. Of course it was perfectly dead, no sign of trade or purchase of any kind. Crossed Elk River two miles from the town on the best bridge I ever saw. It is built of solid stone all hewed, five arches, with a foot path on top of each side wall. It is but a single track erected in 1861. Poor country! After we left the river valley, nearly deserted fields lie idle. About noon we entered the Oak Barrens, so called from its sterility. It is a perfectly flat tract of land with a yellow clay soil. Oak openings, no underbrush, the oak not very large. It lies lower than the surrounding country and covered with pond holes which we rendered bottomless with a little travel, the wheels cut down so. No houses or fields to be seen. Went into camp in the first field we saw for five miles, and that was deserted. 4th Platoon wheel horse fell dead to-night before it came to camp. He was the biggest and best horse of the Battery, supposed to be overdone. Train of cars passed out on the Fayetteville branch loaded with crackers for our camp. It was escorted by two regiments of Slocum's Corps, the New York and Pennsylvania regiments. Mail received. I got letter from home of the 25th ult., so we are once more approaching the Union lines. No news or paper seen save wild camp rumors which are conflicting. No corn to feed our horses to-night. I am on guard.
Winchester, Tenn., Wednesday, Nov. 11. Called up at 4 A. M. Harnessed before daylight. The horses covered with frost. Cold work for bare hands. Started as soon as daylight; about seven miles more of barrens without a house or trace of civilization. Slough holes very often, the pioneer corps bridging many of them while we waded through the others. Four or five horses gave out before we got through. Three left behind. Came out of there by noon on higher ground, well settled, but not very productive. Citizens look decidedly Secesh. Passed Salem at 2 P. M., two overshot waterwheels and a tower. Came into camp within two miles of Winchester at sundown. We are within our own lines. The Army of the Cumberland has a force stationed here, among which is the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry. Drew one day's rations of crackers.
Winchester, Thursday, Nov. 12. Lay in camp all day. 3rd Brigade came up early. The weather very raw and blustering. Forage trains went out seven miles and returned loaded with good corn. Wrote two letters but no mail came in. To-morrow we are to start across the mountains. If half of what is said of it be true, we will have hard times to cross it with our teams. The cavalry say we will not be able to cross it in two days. 1st Brigade of Stanley's Cavalry Division is here. Winchester is the county seat of Franklin County and a good business town as large as Fayetteville. Mr. Lester brought Nashville papers of to-day into camp, the first we have seen since the 22nd of last month.
Camp on the mountains, Friday, Nov. 13. Broke camp at Winchester before daylight and moved out in advance of the other brigades. Crossed the R. R. south of Decherd and kept along the track southeast until we reached Cowan Station, when we travelled toward the hills. Halted half an hour to strip the chest of all knapsacks, the cannoneers being obliged to carry everything after the style of infantry. At about half past twelve o'clock we mounted and started up the mountain. The foot was covered with white large stones smooth as ice. Both of my horses fell the first pull, but soon gathered and we made the ascent in about two hours. The road was very stony and most of the horses poorly shod, very steep in places, but we made it without an accident or a balk, although four of our teams had a span of mules in. The General and staff were very much scared, it is said, and thought it not safe to ride up so they dismounted, lamenting our fate, but our horses did it all right. The road followed the summit which was perfectly level, rather sandy. Passed two or three houses inhabited, but I know not how. Came into camp; old camping ground, first rebel and then federal. Had but one load of corn for to-night and to-morrow morning, so we had but eight ears to a horse. Drew two little crackers in the morning which was all we had till the wagons came up late at night, and we were a set of very hungry boys. Sow belly and hard-tack went as good as the best of suppers at home. Camp as merry as ever, singing and cracking jokes by the bright camp fires, although we were weak in the center.
Sweden's Cove, Tenn., Saturday, Nov. 14. Reveille sounded at 5 A. M. A very dark and cloudy morning, not a star to be seen or ray of daylight. Fed our hard-worked horses a scant feed of twelve ears of corn to a team, cleaned them off and harnessed. Coffee and crackers for breakfast. 2nd Brigade stationed in front. Followed the 2nd. Camped at the foot of the hill last night. Commenced to rain very heavy as we hitched up and it continued until noon, with loud peals of thunder and vivid lightning. The road ran along the summit for about five miles which was very muddy and hard to travel. Commenced the descent about 1 P. M. which was not as laborious but far more dangerous. The cavalry that crossed let the wagons down by rope, but we locked wheels, and about two miles brought us to the bottom, very stony and steeper than the other side. So we were over Raccoon Mountain of the Cumberland Range, considerably higher than Point Judith, and we crossed in the lowest point. We were now in a narrow valley not a mile wide, all under cultivation, but now idle, called "Sweden's Cove". The first trace of civilization that met the soldier eye was a hog, the next a corn crib. Due attention paid to both, the cannoneers charged on the pigs and the drivers filled their nose bags. Camped at the headwaters of Battle Creek. Health of all good and spirits also.
Camp near Bridgeport, Ala., Sunday, Nov. 15. Moved out in park this morning. Kept along the bank of Battle Creek under the sunlit brink of the mountain. 10 A. M. the Tennessee River appeared before us and we entered the Sequatchie Valley. Followed it down stream. This was the ford that Bragg retreated over, and where Rosecrans's small Division were picked off from across the river. Extensive fortification erected here but vacant. Telegraph line up here which communicates with Chattanooga. The valley is narrow but apparently fertile. Neat houses here, but the fences all gone and fields open. After passing through a very bad swamp we came into "Camp Proper." At this point it is a mile and a half from what is called Bridgeport. Good water, no rails. Put up harness racks, tents in line, etc. Drew oats for the horses to-night, but scant. A large mail arrived and to see the eagerness with which all pressed around the pile would have convinced everyone that although roughened by usage and inured to hardship, and mayhap contracted that which is not befitting, yet their hearts are filled with the love of home and friends. I was jubilant over the receipt of three letters, one from my ever faithful correspondent John, the other from my sister Ellen and the rest from an old schoolmate.
Bridgeport, Monday, Nov. 16. A beautiful sunny morning. Did not get up till broad daylight, which was a strange thing. The first thing attended to, now that we were in hopes of a few days' rest, was changing and washing. I changed throughout, and Evie and myself passed to the creek with ax, fire buckets, etc. My washing consisted of a pair pants, shirt, two pairs of socks and towels. Quite a washer-woman. After dinner Cousin Griffith, E. W. E. and myself took a ride down town. I mounted Rodney and off we went. We failed to find a building but found Bridgeport, which is certainly a city of tents. All of it is in tents. Sutler's stores and bakeries are plenty, but so crowded by the soldiers that it was impossible to get a hearing anywhere. I tried hard to get a pie, but there were hundreds pressing in for the same, and I gave it up as a bad job. Bought a blank book and started back to a large tent upon a hill with the sign "Army Hotel" which furnished meals for 75 cents.
The Charleston and Memphis Road crosses the river here, but the bridge was destroyed by General Mitchel a year ago, and not yet completed. A day force is at work on it and teams are hauling timber in all directions. It is a patent truss-bridge like those across the Wisconsin, the R. R. on top and wagon road below it. A pontoon bridge is stretched across below it until the bridge is finished. The cars go no further than here, which is the nearest point to Chattanooga, twenty-eight miles by R. R. and forty by land. All supplies are hauled to camp, long way yet, by mule teams and two small steamboats. A large number of artillery horses have been sent back to be fed. Horses and mules look much worse than ours after the march. The 11th and 12th Army Corps under General Hooker are across the river from here, which makes a total of three corps within supporting distance of Chattanooga. Heavy artillery firing could be heard this morning from that vicinity. Stevenson nine miles west of here.
Bridgeport, Tuesday, Nov. 17. In camp. Warm and pleasant morning. No feed for horses. W. Hayes, Ed. Hayes, J. Ide, H. and D. Wallace returned from furlough, having followed us up to Iuka, then being obliged to return and go up the river by the way of Nashville. They came up on the cars this morning with plump and rosy cheeks. The boys greeted them with enthusiasm going to meet them from afar off. They were from HOME. Orders received at headquarters to send a commissioned officer and non-commissioned or private out on recruiting service. Of course much eagerness was manifested as to who should go. Many applications made I understood, but Lieutenant Hood and Sergeant Hamilton are the elected ones. I understand a like detail is to be made from each Company, but I doubt if they will bring back as many as go. The 4th Division crossed the river to-day. It is reported that we follow in the morning, leaving all wagons behind. Carriages were greased ready for the start. Wrote letters to brother Thomas and sister Mary. Am very anxious to hear from home. Ere this the draft has passed and I know not but the only stay and comfort of my aged and invalid parents is rudely torn from them. If such is the case, and I here in front of the enemy with my destiny unknown, I fear it will bring their gray hairs to the grave. God forbid! If he but be spared I will be satisfied, although I know not but that I have another year to serve after the Battery is mustered out. It is hard for me to think of the years going in this manner, when I had fondly hoped a part at least would be spent in the schoolroom, but I believe it is not lost. He that followeth his duty need not worry. His reward is certain, and it is truly a noble cause in which we are engaged. From the front I have heard nothing. It is reported that the rebs are withdrawing but I do not credit it.
We started one month ago to-day. Twenty of these days were on the road; 240 miles have been travelled. We have been transferred from the Army of the Tennessee to the Army of the Cumberland, and all of our record from this on will be with them.
Sequatchie Valley, Ala., Wednesday, Nov. 18. Reveille sounded before dawn and we were ordered to prepare to march, but they knew not at what hour. All baggage that could be spared was ordered to be left with camp guard. The knapsacks were to be left, but as the cannoneers did not feel disposed to lose all of them as at Vicksburg, they all strapped them on their backs to "tote 'em". Failed to draw but one load of forage, so a vacant wagon was left and the knapsacks packed in, much to the satisfaction of all. Hitched up at 6 A. M. Marched on to the hill where the infantry were encamped. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades had started, leaving tents standing. We were in the rear and compelled to lie in the road until 2 P. M. In the meantime a large mail was distributed. I received four letters, all from home, which of course were very acceptable. Moved down to the river where our Division had been crossing all day on the pontoon. No more than four wagons allowed on at a time, hence a tedious job. 4 P. M. we moved on to it. It consists of a firm scow boat anchored every sixteen feet and stringers laid across, over which were laid twelve-foot plank. It was narrow and shaky, but a tight rein and careful driving brought us over all safe. Had to cross two of them, an island occupied by Hooker's men in the middle of the river. Men busy at work on R. R. bridge, but not near finished. Came to a halt two miles from the river and lay there over an hour to wait for the train to cross. Large fires were built and the infantry cooked their coffee in their little cans. It was quite dark before the bugle sounded and we marched on at a brisk rate till 9 P. M. Our road lay through the Sequatchie Valley, which was pretty well under cultivation, watered by a large stream coming out of the solid rock a few yards above us, one spring furnishing water enough to run a flouring mill. A large cave was close by, which is reported to be a curiosity, thirteen miles long, out of which saltpetre is dug, but I could not visit it. Unhitched our weary and hungry horses having had nothing but two quarts of corn all day, and but a scant feed last night. Made our bed in the open air and piled in supperless.
Lookout Mountain, Tenn., Thursday, Nov. 19. Reveille woke us at 4 A. M. Slept cold. A heavy frost covers the ground this morning. Marched before the cooks got breakfast ready, so we had to take dry grub. Took the Chattanooga road and marched leisurely down, coming to the end of the valley; the mountains and the river coming together. Our road lay along the bank, and the R. R. several hundred feet above us, sometimes running over a precipice and then over stilty-like bridges. An engine ran by us here. We next left the river and soon entered the hills, winding through the valleys and crossing stony points, which was very slow and laborious as our horses were jaded out and hard to keep up. A few inhabitants were seen but they could not find much to live on. 4th Corps stationed through the valley as guards, each squad already located in neat "shebangs". Passed Sand Mountain at noon, a force being stationed upon it, the very high bridge having been destroyed near by and not yet commenced to be built. The R. R. is in bad condition and will require a good deal of labor before it will be rebuilt. A large part of it is laid with wooden rails, an iron plate fastened on top. Coal abounds in the hills. We passed a large bed of nitre, out of which saltpetre was manufactured for Confederate States' use.
Came in sight of Lookout Ridge about 4 P. M., and at sundown we were directly under the enemy's line, their picket fires burning brightly not more than half a mile off. Did they but have the artillery they could soon shell us out. The roads are very bad, filled with slough holes some of which were bridged. 8 P. M. halted nearly an hour to allow the pioneer corps to repair the roads. Most of the boys made coffee. Hard-tack very scarce. I had none since dinner. After the roads were fixed we moved out and marched about four miles right under the point of the guns which could not be brought to bear on us. We passed by Joe Hooker's headquarters. It was a very beautiful evening, bright moonlight, and pleasant marching. Came into camp at 11:30 P. M., our horses having nearly given out. When the wagons came up we fed horses and drew crackers, but I was not as hungry as sleepy, so I laid down in the open air with Point Lookout frowning in full view, on which is a battery of heavy guns that at any moment could hurl terror to our Corps.
Camp in the pocket opposite Chattanooga, Friday, Nov. 20. Scarcely had we closed our eyes to rest, before we were aroused again. Many of the boys had not laid down. It was half past one o'clock in the morning. We were ordered to hitch up in great haste. The rebs were crossing the Tennessee River at some point, and we were to intercept them. Nothing but a prospect of fight would have aroused the sleepy and tired soldiers as quick, and 2 A. M. we moved out, all wagons, battery wagon and forge left behind. It was clear and cold and I was chilled through by my sudden rising from a warm bed. We gradually disappeared from Point Lookout where the rebs' signal lights were dimly burning. The road was mostly corduroyed and very good, but some places not finished very badly cut. 1st caisson got stuck and it took nearly half an hour to extricate. The cannoneers in mud and slush above their knees. While they were getting out, the other boys took hold and completed the bridge.
As it drew near morning it became darker. Crossed the river on pontoon two miles from where we started. It started right under the rock and it was quite difficult to make the landing with six horses. 3rd Brigade's camp was on the bank. They had just started. Head of column took the road towards Chattanooga and obliged to come back as we left it to the right. 2nd caisson lost the road in the dark, ran against a stump and capsized. It took some time to extricate the horses and right it. It was loaded with percussion shells, but luckily none exploded. Infantry got the start of us and we drove very fast. Daylight found us travelling east through a very pretty valley formerly used as a camp. No infantry in sight. As smoke was seen in a pocket to the right, Lieutenant Clark halted, and sent to see if it was not our Brigade, which we found to be the case. We entered it, found the 3rd Brigade closely quartered. Went into park and ordered to remain quiet and orderly. Cooked an early breakfast, although we had travelled eight miles beside the other exploits. Wagons came up at 9 A. M. and we fed the last of our forage, four quarts of oats to a team.
The boys were soon scattered around making up for lost sleep, but I thought I would see our position, so I climbed the bluff to the right of us. Chattanooga could be seen very plain right opposite, near the other side of the river. To the right of it was Lookout, towering high above all others, with the puffs of powder smoke vomited occasionally from their Parrott. To the left I could see smoky Mission Ridge crossed with reb encampments. Those with glasses could discern long wagon trains and pack mules climbing up Lookout. I returned well-paid for my labor, although I afterwards understood it was forbidden. We are effectually hidden. Guards are placed over all houses to prevent anyone leaving. A pontoon train is passing. Heavy rain in afternoon. Put up tents and went to bed early.
Near Chattanooga, Saturday, Nov. 21. Awoke to find it had been raining very heavy all night. Our ditch overflowed and the water flowed into the tent under the bed wetting the blankets, making sleeping a troublesome matter anywhere. I got up, wrung my blankets and watched the rain. After breakfast harnessed our horses. As we have no feed they look very bad, indeed nearly all the halter stails on the rope were eaten off last night. I got a set of chain ones from the Battery wagon. Company cooks played out and rations issued to platoons. Boys all hail it gladly.
10 A. M. Two teams went to Chattanooga after forage. E. W. E. went on detail. Tried to write a letter, but it is so very cold that I made but little progress.
3 P. M. A circular has just been received from General Sherman to hold ourselves in readiness to march at any moment. Three days' cooked rations and one blanket is all that is to be taken along, the ambulances to follow to the river and there await orders. The enemy have been playing from Lookout all day and it is told that sharp musketry is going on, but that general engagement will probably not come off until we cross the river, which it is said we will do to-night if the rain will not sweep off our pontoon. The crisis is fast approaching and it cannot be long ere we meet in deadly contest; of the final result I have but little doubt. I am confident in the ability of those contesting for the right. But alas! many must of necessity close their eyes in death. It is not for me to ask whom or when, but to trust to Him that noticeth the fall of a sparrow, and endeavor to do my duty. I pray that strength may be given me to meet my fate with courage.
8 P. M. It is night. The teams have returned without any feed. They met M. L. Smith's Division on the bridge and they could not cross. Three sacks of grain was got at Division headquarters which gave us a small feed. Wagon went to draw rations at the commissary but could not get any. I have written a letter home and will now lie down and sleep with an easy mind until called upon. I am ready when the word comes.
Near Chattanooga, Sunday, Nov. 22. Awoke to find a bright and beautiful morning and the air was as balmy as a May morning in Wisconsin. Did not rain as expected and no indications of it in particular. Preaching announced at 10 A. M. by the Chaplain of the 18th Wisconsin. I thought it was more my duty to write to anxious hearts than attend. Wrote one to sister Hannah and commenced one to brother Thomas, but was called on guard before finishing it. Sherman's chief of artillery went with Captain Dillon to pick out a road for battery.
3 P. M. Before I came off guard we endeavored to pack everything except our blankets and stow them away. Soon ordered to take up our horses, (which were browsing) clean them off and harness up. Our valises were taken off and blankets strapped instead.
5 P. M. Cogswell's Battery started out and we soon followed, 12th in the rear. Lieutenant Hubbard of the 3rd Battery came to camp as we left, and I shook hands with him as I drove by. Professor Silsby is also here with his Heavy Battery direct from the State, but I did not see him. Moved toward the river, passed the pontoon train and halted near the river out of sight of the enemy. Unhitched and unharnessed, and ordered to lie down with no noise, no fires to be built.
It is now eight o'clock and I am on post. I write by the light of the moon. The Heavy Battery and the 12th are busy at work throwing up earthworks. We are to be thrown across with the first infantry that goes. It is expected by all that it is going to be hot and terrible work. My blood is cold as I contemplate the bloodshed.
Near Chattanooga, Monday, Nov. 23. I had just completed writing last night when an officer rode up (Sherman's staff) and inquired for the commanding officers. The boys were immediately called up, harnessed up and returned to camp. The upper pontoon broke so as to prevent the 4th and 1st Divisions of the Corps from crossing the river, which rendered it necessary to postpone it for twenty-four hours. Arrived at camp and pitched our tents. This morning cloudy and smoky, indications of rain. Ewing's Battery passed towards the river. Eight batteries passed by last night. Had we crossed this morning, they would all have met on the other side, which would be undoubtedly a lively time. Morgan L. Smith was to cross above us and form his line, meeting on Chickamauga Creek, and our left on it. The infantry drew shovels last night and were ordered to take possession of the heights and then fortify. A team sent to headquarters at 7 A. M. to go to Kelly's Bend for forage. One sent yesterday evening. Neither of them yet returned. Completed my letter to Thomas.
3 P. M. Heavy volleys of musketry are heard in the direction of Chattanooga, which is said by a correspondent passing by to be a reconnoitering party to ascertain if they are evacuating, which is supposed to be the case. But I don't credit it.
5 P. M. A fierce engagement is in progress. Since my last writing the well-timed volleys soon grew into a continual rattle, and the cannonading fell heavy and fast. I climbed the bluff as soon as possible to take a better view. Here I found the summit covered with spectators, and every tree loaded as with grapes. The lines most of the time were enveloped in smoke, and we could not discern which were the gainers. The firing commenced well on to the right in the rear of Chattanooga, but fast crossed over toward the left. The artillery's roar, reverberating through the valleys and from mountains, made a deep and impressive sound as though the whole country was in convulsion. From Lookout the heaviest guns were fired. The flash could be seen as it vomited its load of destruction twenty-two seconds before the report arrived, and its echo was answered by half a dozen smaller guns from Moccasin Point in quick succession; but it was so much lower I do not think it was of much effect. Two distinct charges were made (I know not by which party) and the musketry fire unceasing, and heavy columns of fresh smoke arose, a pall for those departed to their eternal rest. As I sat upon the brow of that eminence I could think of the many groans that were now uttered on the field of strife, where friend and foe lay as an equal in the gore of their own blood, while many more lay with the ghastliness of death upon their features, that but a few hours before beamed with life and animation, and whose hearts melted with love and hopes in the future. Sad! sad! But it does not stop here. How many hearts will bleed. How many mothers' hearts will be heavy in anguish when the news will reach them of the fate of their offspring and object of their care and love. How little is this realized by the crowd surrounding. Their thoughts are light and trifling; they think not of death or futurity. Removed from all destruction, accustomed to look at death as of minor importance, they feel not the due importance. But such is war. Although a soldier and inured to meet the foe with determination and calmness, I must say, Oh what a cruel and wicked thing is war! A deer ran along the mountain and the attention of the masses was drawn from the conflict and gleefully passed to the animal. This was not in keeping with the state of my mind, and I left and returned to my tent, the musketry having nearly ceased.
Mission Ridge, Tenn., Tuesday, Nov. 24. Marched to our position of night before last, unhitched and unharnessed. Laid down till 1 A. M. when we were awakened and ordered to hitch up. No noise allowed to be made. The pontooners marched by on quick time with axes, etc. Cogswell's Battery moved out and took position in the front. We soon followed in breathless silence, entered an open field and followed it up nearly half a mile, when we came upon the column of infantry moving along in close order and very fast. Not a breath could be heard, nothing but the grating of their feet on the gravel was to be heard. Never did a more earnest or thoughtful column move to meet the enemy. The column proceeded to the river, and we went into battery in the field thirty rods from the bank. The infantry were ferried across in the pontoon boats. One division was already across. Contrary to all expectations not a gun was fired, and we could hear nothing from our position of the advancing column. The out-post guard were gobbled up by surprise and sent over on this side. One escaped and carried the alarm that the Yankees were coming, which was not believed. But the officer of the day with seventeen men reconnoitered the grounds, and they too were "taken in out of the wet" and taken across and put in charge of the guard of the 5th Wisconsin Battery, they being stationed in a bastion on the bank. The out-post very innocently told the story that upon hearing a rustle in the brush which he challenged with a "'Halt! Hush you d—— fool you, the Yankees are right here upon us.' The fust thing I knew you 'uns hed me." While our Division was crossing, long trains of pontoons came up there with a long line of snow-white ambulances which caused the anxious question—"Who will be obliged to be borne in these from the field of battle?" Then came the hospital train, a wagon for each regiment in the Division, loaded with stores to establish a Division hospital.
6 A. M. Two divisions were safely across and a more beautiful scene I never witnessed. Through the gray dawn a long line of infantry could be seen drawn up on the opposite banks a mile long, while the waters were covered with boats busily going and coming, loaded with men, the regimental colors standing in the center of the boat. The bridge was now covered, boats brought up, anchored in line, and the floor laid without any delay, the 4th Division marching in the boats and the artillery covering the field. Fires were allowed to be built now and we soon had coffee. It commenced raining, as cold and disagreeable as the day could be. A steamboat was due at 4 A. M. to take us across, but did not come till 6:30 A. M. (an old rebel boat, but rebuilt). Taylor's Battery crossed the river first, and as we were not pressed we waited for the bridge to be built. It was very disagreeable, and I felt almost sick; late hours and irregular meals having brought on diarrhea, etc. A large constellation of stars were gathered on the bank, watching the progress of the bridge, among which were Sherman, Blair, W. F. Smith, chief engineer, etc. The line on the other side in one hour had a line of breastworks up and advanced out of sight to form another.
12 M. The bridge completed and we crossed it, being the second battery to do so. The dread of crossing had passed. Halted at a corn crib and the cannoneers got as much corn as they could, but the infantry was formed and advanced in column of division at secure arms, it raining very heavy. This savage-looking column moved forward with caution, crossed a forty-acre lot and halted. The skirmishers went out but not a gun was fired. Advanced again, the batteries were in column of sections. An occasional gun shot, but we advanced until we were directly under Mission Ridge. Not a reb seen and our infantry soon climbed it. Our line formed on the brow when the artillery moved up. Battery D, 1st Missouri was the first up and soon opened fire on them from the right. Our Battery started for the left. The "smooth bores" were left on the other side of the river for want of horses, and we had four teams on a carriage, but the hill was too steep for us and two more teams were put on the pieces, and caissons left behind. A detail of two hundred men were sent to our aid with axes, the enemy sending shells over us quite thick. 1st piece failed to advance with the horses. Ropes brought forward and it was hauled up by hand, we following with all haste. By this time a very brisk skirmishing was going on right to our left and rear quite close, and General Matthies came down at the head of his Brigade on double quick, the old general on foot, making fine time. Captain Dillon ordered the howitzer section and Cogswell's Battery to the rear in all haste. The extra teams were unhitched and the pieces unlimbered, and with great difficulty we made a left about, the hill being so steep that it shoved our horses down amongst the infantry that were pouring down. But the cannoneers fastened a rope to the axle-tree, and down we went in good earnest. Halted at the R. R. crossing in a complete jam of infantry, artillery and ambulances near General Smith's headquarters, who knew nothing of our movements and demanded by whose orders we came down. A flank movement by General Longstreet was apprehended, and we were to guard it by order of General Sherman. We stood there in the cold damp evening for half an hour, got a feed of shelled corn from an out-house close by, when we moved back into the first field above General Matthies, and came into camp alongside of Cogswell's Battery and the 2nd and 3rd Brigades of our Division. Unhitched but did not unharness. Our rations were entirely out with the exception of coffee and some cornmeal picked up, so we ate hastily of unsifted mush and coffee.
Three drivers from each piece sent after sheaf oats for horses. I was on the detail and we rode back nearly three miles toward the river. Found the oats all gone, but plenty of good tame hay, of which we took as much as possible. Returned to camp by 9 P. M. I was nearly exhausted from cold and loss of sleep, having been up since 1 A. M. Lay down in cold and wet blankets.
Mission Ridge, Wednesday, Nov. 25. Called up before three in the morning to feed. Suffered very much from cold during the night. The blankets stiff with frost over us. Witnessed an almost total eclipse of the moon and again lay down, but no sleep.
6 A. M. McCook's Brigade of Davis's Division formed in line of battle facing to the left and supporting our artillery, should it be necessary. 1st Section (rifles) reported to be well fortified on the ridge.
9 A. M. Not much fighting as yet, the pickets advancing and skirmishing. A reb battery shells directly over and in rear. One shell twelve-pounder time-fuse dropped ahead of our team and was dug up by the boys. A mule team came up and issued one day's rations of hard-tack.
11 A. M. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades went in on double quick followed by the 11th Corps with crescents flying, a fine looking body of men, but are looked on rather suspiciously by our sturdy veterans. They went in and advanced towards the rebels' works on Tunnel Hill, and musketry rattled very severe.
From that time [till] late in the evening a terrible struggle followed, wounded men coming back thick and fast. Our position was such that we could not witness the field and we were not permitted to leave the teams an instant. Our loss is very heavy especially in officers. The struggle on our side was for the occupation of Tunnel Hill and our line advanced up the steep side of the bluff time after time, but were obliged to fall back, the rebels being reinforced all the time, and could pick them off with ease, the lay of the land being such that they succeeded in flanking the 11th Corps, and they fell back in disorder. But they were received by the 2nd and 3rd Brigade of our Division, and soon compelled to retire.
More desperate fighting, it is said by those who witnessed, they had never seen. Our line being for hours under the enemy they rolled stones upon us, wounding many. Three companies of the 5th Iowa were taken prisoners, having used up all their ammunition and would not run. Artillery could not be brought to much use, and my feelings as I staid under that hill, listening to the noise and rattle of the fight, mingled with suppressed cheers of charging parties, and the groans of the wounded as they passed in the long trains of ambulances, or the lighter wounded hobbling back afoot with bleeding and mangled limbs, I cannot describe in words. General Matthies was wounded in the head while leading his Brigade on to the charge. I saw him ride to the rear covered with blood. Colonel Putnam of the 93rd Illinois was killed instantly while waving the colors in front of his men, a noble and much loved officer. The 90th Illinois and 73rd Pennsylvania were literally cut to pieces, and their officers all killed or wounded.
The day closed, and the dark mantle of night was spread over the gory fields. We have gained nothing in the shape of ground all day, but their slaughter must be terrible. Thomas and Hooker were at them all day and it is reported gained great advantage. We had to fight the main body of the army. Lookout was taken yesterday, 2500 prisoners and three pieces of artillery. To-morrow if they stand, will be a final and awful test of strength. Sherman, cool and deliberate, is ready for them. Got corn to feed on the battle-field.
Mission Ridge, Thursday, Nov. 26. After we retired last night with horses unharnessed, a courier came in hot haste with the report "The enemy is coming down upon us in double columns". We were ready to give them a warm reception on short notice, but they did not come, and again we laid down, but left the harness on. They will not catch us napping. It was a chilly, cold night and we suffered much from cold bed. But little rest during the night, and at 3 A. M. we were called up to feed, which was more of a relief than otherwise. But no man grumbled or complained as we thought of our wounded who lay on the field all night with no covering, and weak from the loss of blood. Their groans could be heard by our men all night, and the friends in rebellion would not permit them to carry relief to them or bring them in. The enemy occupied the contested ground. One, who had a brother lying on the field, started with the determination of relieving him or die in the attempt. True to his determination he was shot dead by the inhuman wretches who would not listen to his plea. Their punishment will be great.