There was some delay in following up the retreating enemy. On the morning of December 7th, however, we were called early, and notified that orders had been received to march at seven o'clock. At that hour we were in motion, marched through the town, and advanced twelve miles on the Newmarket road, the whole of the Ninth Corps with us. About two o'clock we went into camp, found plenty of forage, and built good fires. The march was continued on the 8th; and on the 9th, shortly after noon, we went into camp about a mile south of Rutledge.
December 11th, while we were still near Rutledge, Lieutenant Hodgkins, who had been home on leave of absence and detached service at Cumberland Gap, rejoined the regiment, and brought not a little cheer to all hearts by the announcement that a large mail and supplies were at Tazewell. The supply-train arrived on the 13th, and once again we had a taste of bread, coffee, and sugar. The mail reached us on the following day.
We had orders during the night to be ready to march at early dawn; yet the 14th passed and we still remained at Rutledge. But there was trouble ahead. Longstreet had attacked our cavalry at Bean's Station, and had compelled it to fall back, leaving a wagon-train in his hands. At the close of the day we had orders to march at a moment's notice. About midnight a part of the Twenty-third Corps passed our camp, moving to the front.
December 15th tents were struck soon after breakfast, and about eleven o'clock we moved back a few hundred rods and formed in line of battle. There we remained during the day, ready for the enemy if he should appear, and about nine o'clock in the evening we took the road to Knoxville. On account of the bad state of the roads we were nearly six hours marching six miles. It was a bitter cold night, and the men built fires of fence-rails at our numerous halts. At length we bivouacked in a field at the roadside, where we managed to get about an hour's sleep in front of our fires.
About half-past nine, December 15th, we renewed our march, and halted at noon at Blain's Cross Roads. The enemy followed, and there was some skirmishing at the outposts. About three o'clock in the afternoon we formed a line of battle, and constructed a breastwork of rails. Companies A and B, of the Thirty-sixth, were sent out on picket. But the enemy did not attempt to advance. Indeed, as we soon learned, Longstreet withdrew his forces to the other side of the Holston, and, marching to Morristown, ordered his men to make themselves comfortable for the winter.
We, too, at Blain's Cross Roads, which has well been called the Valley Forge of the Rebellion, endeavored to make ourselves comfortable; but it was not an easy matter. Very few of our men had overcoats; indeed, they were poorly clothed in every respect. For the lack of shoes many were obliged to protect their feet with moccasins made of rawhide. Rations, too, were short. A few spoonfuls of flour were served out as the daily allowance, and, had it not been for the corn picked up here and there, sometimes where the mules were corralled, the men would have suffered severely. Foraging parties were sent out on every hand, but the natives generally "were plumb out"; there was "not a dust of meal" in the house, they said.
December 27th we moved our camp a short distance, and built as comfortable houses as the means at hand would allow. The days that followed were uneventful, for the most part. January 8th the Eighth Michigan started home, the men having reënlisted on the promise of a furlough. The One Hundredth Pennsylvania followed January 12th. No more inspiring sight can be imagined than that of the remnant of a once full regiment at the expiration of its three years of service, and living on quarter rations of corn-meal, with occasionally a handful of flour, standing forth under the open skies amid a thousand discomforts, and, raising loyal hands toward heaven, swearing to serve the country yet three years longer!
January 15th clothing arrived and was issued. Though the quantity was small, there was enough to be of much benefit to our shivering men. On the following day the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania started home, its term of service also having nearly expired. At ten o'clock we broke camp and marched to Strawberry Plains, about sixteen miles north of Knoxville. It is at this place that the railroad crosses the Holston river. We went into camp, and on the following day built houses.
But on the 17th there were rumors of an approach of the enemy, and we had orders to march the next morning at seven. When the morning came, however, these orders were countermanded, and we were then ordered to hold ourselves in readiness to march at a moment's notice. That night two or three inches of snow fell. On the following day, January 19th, we remained at our quarters until night, when we were ordered to the station to load cars with batteries and ammunition. January 21st no rations, except of fresh beef, or rather of bones, as the men said, were issued. About midnight we were ordered to be ready to march at daybreak. Wagons came at two o'clock, and our baggage was packed and sent off to Knoxville. About noon on that day, the 21st, we moved into the woods. Not long after, the rebels appeared on the opposite side of the river and opened fire from a battery, to which our guns responded. No rations were issued that day, but our men obtained some corn and pork which the Twenty-third Corps Commissary had left at the station. The bridge across the river was destroyed by our troops, also about forty wagons. Early the next morning we set out for Knoxville, Morrison's brigade forming the rear guard. The rebel cavalry followed us closely, and we were obliged to form in line of battle frequently, and offer fight, in order to keep the enemy at a respectful distance. Late in the afternoon we halted about three miles from Knoxville, and bivouacked for the night.
The next day, January 23d, the rebels retired and we moved into the woods for protection from the cold. Here we hoped to have a little rest; but in the morning—it was the Sabbath—we found that a Sabbath-day's journey was before us. We marched through Knoxville, passed Fort Sanders and the trenches that the siege had made so familiar to us, and went into camp near Erin's Station, about five miles from the city.
Rumors now became rife that the Ninth Corps was soon to leave Tennessee and go east, to be under the command once more of General Burnside. The thought was an inspiring one to both officers and men.
Having completed our camp preparations, company and battalion drills were resumed January 27th. January 31st the Thirty-sixth received about one hundred recruits from the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts,—the portion of the regiment that had not reënlisted. The remainder of their period of service these men were to fill out with us. That evening we received orders to be ready to march at a moment's notice. We did not move, however, until late in the afternoon of the following day, February 1st, when our whole division marched through Knoxville, crossed the Holston, and encamped on the heights beyond. It was very muddy, and we had much difficulty in climbing the hills in the dark. Our bivouac that night was a cheerless one, and the next morning, it having been discovered by somebody that there were no rebels within thirty miles, we were ordered back to our camp at Erin's Station.
General Foster, about this time, asked to be relieved of the command of the Department of the Ohio, on account of the reöpening of an old wound; and February 9th General J. M. Schofield reached Knoxville, having, at General Grant's request, been appointed to succeed Foster.
February 15th we broke camp at Erin's Station in a pouring rain, and marched to Knoxville, where we encamped just outside of the city, and not far from Fort Sanders. The rifle-pits occupied by the rebels during the siege extended along the rear of our camp. The object in making this change in such a storm was not apparent; and, as this was our first acquaintance with General Schofield, the impression received was not a very favorable one. Yet, like good soldiers, we made ourselves as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.
Three days later orders came for us to move in the afternoon. This time it was a mile only, to a position between the Jacksboro' and Tazewell roads. Here we had again made ourselves as comfortable as possible when, February 20th, shortly after dress-parade, we received orders to be ready to march at a moment's notice. The next morning we were up early, the mules were harnessed to the wagons all day; but night came, and we still remained in camp. February 22d most of the regiment were engaged in strengthening the fortifications at Knoxville. On the following day Captain Smith, Lieutenant Brigham, and ten men were detailed to go to Massachusetts for recruits. At night we were told to hold ourselves in readiness to march at daybreak, in light marching order, with sixty rounds of ammunition per man. This looked like business.
A little after sunrise the next morning, February 24th, we left our camp, and took the road to Strawberry Plains, General Willcox being in command of our division. On the march we passed the Twenty-third Corps. General Schofield and his staff accompanied the troops. We marched about twenty miles, and at night encamped in the woods three miles beyond the railway station at Strawberry Plains. On the following day we received orders to lay out a camp, as it would be necessary for us to remain where we were several days. A pontoon came up on the train from Knoxville, and everything indicated a vigorous movement against the enemy.
February 27th we broke camp about eight o'clock in the morning, and marched to the river. As there was neither time nor men to construct a pontoon bridge, preparations had been made to carry the troops across the Holston in barges. Two ropes were stretched from bank to bank,—a distance of about one hundred yards,—and by means of these the barges, filled with men, were drawn across the stream. There were seven barges in all, and in less than three-quarters of an hour our brigade was transferred to the opposite shore. The passage of the entire command occupied the whole forenoon. When we had crossed, we moved down the road two miles and halted in an oak grove. Meanwhile our supply train and artillery were crossing at the ford below. Late in the afternoon, when we had pitched our tents for the night, orders came for the regiment to pack up, as we had been assigned to picket duty. So we packed up and moved out to the front.
The next morning, Sunday, February 28th, nine deserters came into our lines. They reported Longstreet as falling back; said they were tired of the war, and that there was much dissatisfaction in the rebel ranks. We marched about eleven o'clock, Morrison's brigade in advance, and halted late in the afternoon about a mile beyond Mossy Creek, having advanced thirteen miles.
That night it rained, nor did the rain cease with the darkness. We marched at seven in the morning, February 29th, the rain still falling. The roads were very muddy, and we had a toilsome, disagreeable march. Early in the afternoon we reached Morristown,—a march of thirteen miles,—and encamped just beyond the town. The ground was well-watered, but we pitched our shelter-tents, obtained some boards from an old camp near by, and endeavored to make ourselves comfortable for the night. A flag of truce came in from the rebels, and it was understood that they were in force about six miles distant.
We expected to advance the next morning, March 1st, but it still rained in torrents. Our shelter-tents afforded little protection in such a deluge, and officers and men drew largely on the hospitality of the town in seeking comfortable quarters. Some curious expressions were caught up from the people in this region, and long lingered in the regiment. A few of our men were at a farm-house, and, as they sat down at the supper-table, the good mistress of the house apologized for the quality of the fare in these terms: "Our butter is gin out, but you can wobble your corndodgers in the ham-fat if you choose." A forager asked a woman if she had any molasses. "Well," she replied, "we haven't many, but we have a few!"
To our great surprise, the next day, March 2d, we moved back to Mossy Creek. Why, we knew not, as there was no enemy threatening us. We reached Mossy Creek about ten P.M., and encamped on the same spot where we pitched our tents when on the way to Morristown. We were snug in our blankets that night when orders came for us to be ready to march at a moment's notice. A little after midnight Col. Morrison rode up and startled us all with the order, "Fall in, Thirty-sixth!" In less than five minutes we were on the march. We moved down to the creek and there halted. The troops of the Twenty-third Corps were crossing. Citizens and contrabands had reported that Longstreet was advancing. We built fires and awaited further orders. Not long after daylight we returned to the camp we had left so suddenly.
March 5th a brigade of rebel cavalry was reported near, and Companies B, C, and F of the Thirty-sixth went out on a reconnoissance. After feeling of our position, however, the cavalry left. While our men were out they were drawn up in a line of battle under the brow of a hill, well concealed. Col. Morrison, who accompanied the scouting party, was a slight distance in advance, reconnoitring, when a rebel lieutenant, who had lost his reckoning, being overcome with whiskey, rode up to the brow of the hill. The colonel drew his revolver and ordered the drunken lieutenant to dismount. He had on one of our overcoats, and when Gen. Parke came up, not long after, he gave orders that it should be given to one of our own men. A goodly-sized knife was the only weapon that the lieutenant carried.
On the following day we again had orders to be ready to march at a moment's notice. March 7th we changed our camp, though we still remained at Mossy Creek.
Orders for a movement were received March 11th, and the reveillé was sounded at three o'clock the next morning. We marched at five, Morrison's brigade having the advance. It was a beautiful winter's day, and we reached Morristown about eleven o'clock. Passing through the town, we encamped about two miles beyond, on the Chucky Valley road. The railroad bridge at Strawberry Plains had now been repaired, and the trains were running to Morristown.
March 13th we had a quiet Sunday, and were to have a brigade dress-parade at night, when word came from our cavalry pickets that the rebels had appeared. The Thirty-sixth was ordered out in the direction indicated; but the enemy had already retired, and we returned to our camp.
The next morning our cavalry had a short fight. One rebel was killed, two were wounded, and nine were taken prisoners. About eleven o'clock we had orders to fall in, and our brigade moved out on the Chucky Valley road. The Seventy-ninth New York was left at the cross-roads, about five miles from our camp. We halted at the river, while the Twentieth Michigan, throwing off their knapsacks, advanced a couple of miles further. The cavalry sent in one prisoner. As he joined us he said he had never fought against "you-uns." The Twentieth Michigan at length returned, and the brigade marched back to Morristown, where we arrived about dark. Several corn-cribs along the line of march that day, and one especially at the river, added somewhat to the daily ration.
The 15th was a cold, raw March day. Just at night there was an alarm, and our brigade moved out hastily to support the cavalry pickets; but we were not needed, and soon returned to camp.
The following day brought a confirmation of the rumors which for some time had been rife among us. The Ninth Corps was ordered to Annapolis, Md., and we were to commence our eastward journey on the morrow. We could hardly credit the good news, and joy beamed in every countenance. Had it been possible for us to forecast the future our joy would have been considerably lessened.
March 17th the reveillé was sounded at four o'clock, and we marched at six. It was a morning without clouds, and we were all in excellent spirits. The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts led the brigade; and as we left our old camp the brigade band, which was with us, struck up a lively air, and we were as happy almost as if we were marching homeward. That night we encamped at Newmarket,—a march of twenty miles.
The next morning the reveillé was sounded at half-past four, and we marched at half-past six. Our brigade was still in advance. We crossed the Holston, at Strawberry Plains, on a pontoon. At half-past four we pitched our tents seven miles from Knoxville, having marched nineteen miles.
Early the next morning we resumed our march, and about half-past ten in the forenoon, having passed through Knoxville, we encamped near Fort Sanders. That day and the next we remained at Knoxville. We now learned that we were to march over the mountains into Kentucky, leaving the sick and the shoeless to be transported by cars. An inspection of the regiment was accordingly ordered, and the names of the men whose shoes were in such condition as not to allow them to make so long a journey were placed in the list of those for whom transportation was to be furnished. The rest—about two hundred officers and men—were the toughened remnant of the one thousand who left Massachusetts a year and a half before. All were animated with high hopes, and the rough road before us was one which, even at that inclement season of the year, we were exceedingly eager to travel.
The next morning, March 21st, we took our last look of scenes with which we had become so familiar since November 17th, and commenced our long march. The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts led the corps. We advanced eighteen miles, and encamped at Clinton.
The next day, in a snow-storm, we were ferried across the Clinch river in scows. Then, in a raw wind and over icy roads, we marched seventeen miles, and encamped about four miles from Jacksboro'. Some of us remembered that it was just a year before that we left Newport News. The next morning, March 23d, we marched through Jacksboro', and soon after commenced to ascend the mountains back of the town. It was a beautiful sight, as the long line of troops moved up the zigzag road, with muskets glittering in the bright sunlight. We marched that day thirteen miles. March 24th we advanced eighteen miles. The road led us up and down mountains without number. The next morning snow covered the ground. We marched at half-past six. About eleven o'clock we reached the Kentucky line. Rain set in early, but we pushed on and advanced eighteen miles. A rainy night was followed by snow on the morning of March 26th. During the forenoon the clouds broke and we had fair weather. At noon we met a wagon-train, loaded with rations which had been sent out to us from Camp Burnside. That day we marched nineteen miles. The next morning, at half-past six, we were again on the road, and about ten o'clock we reached Camp Burnside. From Jacksboro' to this place our march had led us through an almost unbroken wilderness, and over the worst of roads, and through brooks and streams without number. Leaving Camp Burnside we crossed the Cumberland river about noon, and encamped that night about a mile beyond Somerset, having marched sixteen miles. March 28th we advanced eighteen miles, and encamped at Waynesborough. The next day, a little past noon, we encamped at Hall's Gap, three miles south of Stanford. Snow fell during the night. March 30th we passed through Lancaster at noon, and at night we pitched our tents not far from Camp Dick Robinson, having advanced eighteen miles. The next morning we marched at the usual hour, passed Camp Nelson about eleven o'clock, and encamped three miles beyond. The Second Brigade of our division took cars at Nicholasville in the afternoon. In the morning, April 1st, we marched to Nicholasville in a pouring rain. Cars arrived about eleven o'clock, and we embarked at once. There were delays on the road, so that we did not arrive at Covington until about midnight. It was a cold, cheerless ride.
The next morning, April 2d, we marched to the barracks, where we remained until the following day. Transportation having at length been provided, we marched to the depot in Cincinnati, where we took the train about eleven A.M. We reached Columbus, O., about eleven P.M. There we were notified that a lunch had been provided for the regiment; but it proved to be a mean affair. At Steubenville, O., which we reached about noon, April 4th, we found a large crowd of ladies at the depot, with baskets of bread, cakes, and pies. There we remained about an hour and a half. Resuming our journey, we reached Pittsburgh, Penn., at midnight. Leaving the cars, we marched to the City Hall, where a bountiful collation had been prepared. The men had all they wanted, and that, too, of the best. At three A.M. we were again on the cars. We crossed the mountains in a snow-storm. Altoona was reached about eleven o'clock. At nine o'clock A.M., April 6th, we were in Baltimore. The regiment marched to the rooms of the relief committee and had breakfast. We remained in the city until late in the afternoon, and reached Annapolis, Md., about midnight. Our orders were to remain in the cars until morning, when we went into camp just outside of the town. The Forty-fifth Pennsylvania, which had rejoined the corps, its furlough having expired, furnished the Thirty-sixth with coffee on our arrival at the camp,—one of many instances of friendly regard manifested toward us during the war by our old companions in arms.
And so closed, not only our long journey, but a memorable chapter in our history. What the future had in store for us we little imagined.