The Fifty-Ninth pitched tents to the right of the pike leading from Murfreesboro' to Shelbyville, three miles south of town. Stone River ran a short distance from camp on the right, and in front lay the large plantation of ex-senator Bell, recent candidate for Vice President of the United States, but now a traitor.
The splendid mansion of this arch traitor is now occupied by General Johnson, of the Union Army. The owner of this plantation fled with the rebel army on its retreat from the battle of Stone River, and General Johnson took possession and encamped his division on the premises the day following. The house is most delightfully situated on an elevated spot overlooking the whole plantation, and near the banks of Stone River. From the portico in front of the mansion, may be seen the pure, blue waters of the river, as it winds its tortuous course along its rock-bound channel, for two miles above and below. The negro cabins, and the slaves at work any where on the plantation, can be seen from the piazza, or could have been a few days ago; but now the white tents of the soldier has taken the place of the slave at his work.
The Fifty-Ninth was not allowed to enjoy a lengthy repose in camp, but was soon sent with a part of the division to reinforce the command at Franklin, Tenn., thirty miles west of Murfreesboro'. Leaving all but such things as they could carry in their knapsacks, they reached Franklin the second day after leaving camp. Here they lay in bivouac about ten days. They then returned to camp, bringing with them three or four prisoners and a few extra horses. The three prisoners and three horses were captured by two of our boys. Wm. Ebling and Samuel Wambroth; the one the hospital nurse, and the other a cook; being both mounted on extra horses, were a short distance from the road, when they saw three rebel horsemen riding across an open field towards a house in the distance. These two boys put spurs to their horses and made pursuit. On coming within hailing distance they shouted to the rebs to halt, which they did, surrendering themselves prisoners of war. The boys, proud of their capture, marched them off to General Davis, and they were handed over to the provost guard.
This same William Ebling, while scouting over the battle ground of Stone River the day after the battle terminated, came across a citizen dressed in butternut clothing, and supposing him to be a rebel, arrested him. Ebling had just before passed a sutler establishment and bought a bottle of whisky. Although he was death on rebels, he freely shared his whisky with his prisoner, and when he presented his captive to General Davis, they were both pretty tight. The man was a good Union man, and was hunting over the field for a missing relative. General Davis amused himself at their expense a short time, and sent them, the one to his quarters and the other to his home.
A few days after going into camp here, Lieut. Colonel C. H. Frederick returned to the regiment for the purpose of settling up his affairs and to bid the command "good bye." While at Nashville, he resigned his commission and was now a private citizen. His departure was witnessed with regret by the whole command. He had ever been a good, faithful officer, and a kind, good friend to the men of the regiment.
Major J. C. Winters, having returned from his leave of absence, now assumed command of the regiment, and Captain Paine, that of Major. Captain Stookey again taking command of his company. After the capture of Adjutant Phillips, Lieutenant Minnett, of Company D, was appointed Adjutant.
While the regiment lay at Murfreesboro', the following young men were deservedly promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant: Reuben Maddox, Company F, I. M. Vanosdel, Company K, Charles Doolittle, Company I, A. Sanderson, Company B, S. Eleric, Company A, and Hiram Wendt, Company G.
To that of Second Lieutenant: —— Curtis, Company C, H. C. Baughman, Company F, D. L. Korhammer, Company I, Fred. N. Boyer, Company H, —— Irwin, Company D, and —— Anderson, Company B.
To that of Captain: Hamilton W. Hall, Company F, Adjutant Minnett, Company D, Henry Wiley, Company H, S. L. Burris, Company G, I. Henderson, Company C, D. Bagley, Company A, Samuel West, Company I.
These young men, with one or two exceptions, were enlisted as privates in the ranks. They have all been faithful soldiers, doing their duty manfully, both in time of battle and in camp. At Pea Ridge, at Perryville and Stone River they were among the bravest of the brave.
After laying in camp a few days, the regiment again moved out towards Franklin, but not so far as before. The enemy was now threatening another point in our lines, between Murfreesboro' and Franklin, and to strengthen this point General Davis moved out with his Division. No serious attack was made, and the regiment returned to camp. The lines were now shortened, and the camp all moved up nearer town. As soon as the camps were arranged, the regiments were set to work building fortifications. Until the 24th of June, work at the fortifications and picket duty was all that was required of the Fifty-Ninth. In building forts, and digging entrenchments, one-third or one-half the regiment was employed at a time. In doing picket duty, the whole regiment moved out to the lines, and remained there from five to ten days at a time.
One day, while on picket, Walter C. Wyker, of Company K, was standing guard at his post, near the pike bridge across Stone River, some rebel cavalry came in sight, a mile or two down the pike, and, to get a better view of them, Wyker stepped upon a large rock near by, and, in bringing his gun up after him, struck the lock against the rock, and fired it off, the load lodging in his bowels, killing him in a few seconds. He was brought to camp, and buried with the honors of war. He was a faithful soldier, and an agreeable mess-mate, and was universally respected by the members of his company.
Here, for the first time since leaving Boonville, Missouri, the regiment had the privilege of attending church regularly every Sabbath, and frequently during the week.
The writer's diary of the 17th of May, has the following:
"I have just returned from hearing an excellent sermon, spoken by the Reverend Colonel Granville Moody. Colonel Moody was my favorite preacher, of the Methodist Church in Oxford, Ohio, more than twenty-five years ago. I have never seen him, from that day till this. It may well be believed that his appearance brought to mind many pleasant thoughts of old times. I was again sitting in the old familiar seat, in the old brick church, of my boyhood days. Although the preacher's head has now become silvered o'er with age, his voice and looks are but little changed. His sermon was to me a 'feast of reason and a flow of soul.' His text was: 'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve. If the Lord is God, serve him.' His remarks were listened to with the most wrapped attention, and, I think, made quite an impression on the soldiers. I would that there were more such preachers in the army. Colonel Moody commands an Ohio regiment, and is a fighting Colonel. His regiment was in the thickest of the fight at Stone River, and did good execution. While he was speaking, I could not help but think of the vast amount of good he has been the instrument, in the hands of God, in doing in the world. For thirty years his words of entreaty have been spoken to thousands of anxious hearers, every Sabbath, to turn from the evil of their ways, and seek the paths of righteousness and peace. Can he be otherwise than happy?—happy in the consciousness of having done his duty towards God and man. His sermon was preached in one of the block houses inside a fort. It was a novel sight to see the preparations for dealing death and destruction to our fellow beings, surrounding the minister of peace on earth and good will to men.
"When I came back to camp I found that an order had been issued to turn over to the Quartermaster all extra baggage belonging to the men—such as blankets, clothing, etc.,—leaving them only one blanket each, one suit of clothes, an extra pair of drawers, an extra pair of socks, and an extra shirt. This looks towards an early move of some kind—an advance, perhaps, towards the enemy."
Lieutenant J. H. Knight is now Acting Quartermaster of the regiment, Lieutenant Brasher not having, as yet, returned from his parole.
David Thompson, of Company K, returned to the regiment, from Nashville, on the 16th of April. He was reported to the Surgeon the next morning at sick call. On the following day he was sent to the general field hospital, with well-developed symptoms of smallpox, and on the 21st he expired.
James Slusser, of Company F, was brought to the hospital, with dysentery, about the middle of June. He soon became convalescent, with a very good prospect of soon returning to his company in good health; but, when the regiment marched, on the 24th, he was yet unfit for duty, and was, consequently, left at the general field hospital. A relapse soon followed, and he, also, died.
In the latter part of April, one Doctor Kelly reported himself to Major Winters, with a commission as First Surgeon of the Fifty-Ninth Illinois Regiment. He was an entire stranger to all concerned, but his commission gave him authority to remain and take charge of the sick men of the regiment. He soon proved himself qualified for the position, and the boys were well pleased with the imposition.
On the 15th of June the regiment went out on picket to remain ten days. Their picket post was on the Shelbyville Pike, about two miles south of Stone River.
On the 23d of June orders were received at camp to strike tents, and move out with the train on the 24th. Consequently, on the morning of the 24th, the train moved down the pike to where the regiment had been standing picket. The regiment was already gone, and the train followed after, taking the direction of Liberty Gap. The day was very disagreeable; a drizzling rain had set in early in the morning and continued all day, wetting everything and everybody completely. In this plight the men lay on their arms all night. They were now in the neighborhood of the Gap, and it was reported that the enemy had a strong force there.
The morning of the 25th was dark and cloudy, but the troops were early astir, and soon on the advance towards the Gap. About noon the enemy were observed in force immediately in front. A disposition was speedily made of our forces, and the Fifty-Ninth was sent out as flankers, or rather as advanced skirmishers, on the right flank of the Division. Fortunately for the Fifty-Ninth, this move kept them from entering the engagement, only as skirmishers, as the fighting was all done in another part of the field. The regiment, however, skirmished pretty lively with the enemy all the afternoon. Some of the rebels were hit by our balls, as the boys could see them fall, or crawl from their hiding places badly wounded. The trees behind which the boys concealed themselves were frequently hit by the balls from the rebel guns, but none of the regiment was injured. On other parts of the Pass there was heavy fighting until evening, when the enemy fell back and gave our men possession.
Images of officers
The command held the ground until about three in the morning, when it was silently withdrawn and marched on towards Tullahoma. It was said that the enemy withdrew about the same time, neither army having any desire to renew the contest.
The march now continued daily until the 3d day of July, when the Division again went into camp at Winchester, Tennessee.
The march from Murfreesboro' to Winchester was very fatiguing. It rained almost incessantly, keeping the men continually wet, and making the roads very muddy and the streams high. The rebels, on their retreat, destroyed the bridge across Elk River, and in consequence our army was compelled to wade it. At the point where the Fifty-Ninth crossed, the water was waist deep to the men and the current very swift. Two or three of the boys would lock arms, and by assisting each other would succeed in forcing their way over. Several who braved the flood single-handed were swept away and carried a considerable distance down stream before they could effect a landing. The enemy continued to retreat from Liberty Gap, through Tullahoma, Manchester, Winchester, and Stevenson, Alabama, towards Chattanooga; so that our infantry did not overtake them before going into camp at Winchester.
The brigade of Colonel Post went into camp one mile east of the town, and in advance of any troops belonging to the corps. The Fifty-Ninth, as usual, being the picket regiment. This was pleasing to the boys, as it gave them the privilege of the country, and an easy access to blackberries, peaches, potatoes, etc. The camp is pleasantly situated, and if the weather becomes fair the boys can enjoy themselves.
Soon after arriving here, Lieutenant Brasher, Quartermaster, and Captain Clayton Hale, (now Major Hale,) returned to the regiment. After the resignation of Lieutenant Colonel Frederick, Major Winters was promoted to the position of Lieutenant Colonel, and Clayton Hale to that of Major. Frank Clark, of Company A, now received the appointment of Adjutant.
The routine of camp life now commenced in earnest; policing, guard and picket duty, foraging and amusements of various kinds occupies the time of the regiment. The history of one day is the repetition of the preceding one, and so on.
Winchester is ninety-five miles south of Nashville, and is an old dilapidated place of perhaps eight hundred inhabitants, mostly secesh. The country around is very well improved and quite productive, but thinly populated at this time, as the citizens have, many of them, gone with the rebel army. There are several families remaining in town, but the men folks have disappeared, leaving only the women and children. Of the former there are quite a number, and many of them are young and good looking. These are an attraction for the young bloods of the army, and those of the Fifty-Ninth are very attentive. The tediousness of camp life is very much relieved by a few hours spent in the society of interesting young ladies now and then.
After a few days of idleness in camp, the boys get very mischievous, and if there is any whisky to be had the monotony is broken by some serious termination to the pranks being played.
One evening, after imbibing pretty freely, the boys were about getting into a general engagement, when Sergeant ——, of Company E, supposing it to be his duty to keep the peace, interfered. This proceeding was resented, and in the melee the Sergeant was severely cut with a knife, in the hands of one Davis, of another company. Davis immediately fled, and was never heard of afterwards. The Sergeant was taken to the hospital, to have his wound attended to. The wound was inflicted by a sharp instrument, and penetrated through the muscles of the back, into the lower lobe of the right lung. The cut on the surface was about four inches in length, and on the surface of the lung half an inch in length, deep enough to afford a full breathing surface. At every motion of the lungs the air rushed in and out of this opening as through the mouth of a bellows. When brought to the tent, the man was in a dying condition. His life was rapidly going out at the opening in the lung. The old Hospital Steward was in favor of immediately closing the wound by sewing the lips together, but the two young Assistant Surgeons, Doctors Bunce and Gaston, (Gaston had a few days before been commissioned from the ranks of the One Hundred-and-Second Illinois Regiment, to the position of Second Assistant Surgeon of the Fifty-Ninth,) overruled the idea, under the impression that by closing the wound the blood would have no egress, and by its accumulation inwardly, cause injury to the patient. The man was dying, as every one could see. His pulse was failing rapidly, and a few hours would undoubtedly finish his career. Doctor Kelly, who was in town, was sent for—came, and for appearance sake, as he said, put a couple of stitches in the wound. By this time the pulse had entirely disappeared from the wrist, and the Doctors left the tent, not doubting but that the man would soon be dead. As soon as the Surgeons left, the Steward carefully closed the wound with a compress, and caused the man to lay on that side so as to keep the compress to its place. As soon as this was done the breathing passed through the natural channel—the mouth—and in an hour the pulse could be distinctly felt at the wrist, and in the morning the Doctors were surprised to find the Sergeant, not only still living, but bright and cheerful. In ten days the man was well. Ignorance is bliss, but not always safe for the patient.
Doctor Kelly here resigned his commission as Surgeon, and Doctor Bunce immediately applied for and received a commission in his stead.
Indications now point strongly towards another move. A general inspection of the troops and trains almost always precedes a forward movement of the army, and this is now going on in this department. The next move will be across the Cumberland Mountains, and the trains must all be in good condition, or they will never stand the trip. It is only about three miles to the foot of these mountains in a direct course from here, but it is said that we must pass through Cowen before we can climb them, which is ten or twelve miles away. Cowen is a station on the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, and is near the entrance of the tunnel which here runs through the mountain.
On the 17th of August, the army evacuated Winchester, and camped at the foot of the mountain, to be in readiness for crossing on the following morning. The 18th was spent in getting the artillery and trains to the top of the mountain—the regiments having to assist in dragging the heavy cannon and heavy loaded wagons over the most difficult places. The 19th completed the crossing, and the troops bivouacked at the eastern foot of the mountain until morning. The march was continued on the 20th, until a convenient camp was reached near Stevenson, Alabama.
Stevenson is a small town at the junction of the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad with the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. It is twenty-five miles from Chattanooga, and three miles from the Tennessee River. It is one hundred and twenty miles by rail from Nashville. The camp of the Fifty-Ninth is one mile from town, near the right bank of the famous Battle Creek, and within about the same distance of a high conical-shaped mountain, at the foot of which nestles the little town of Stevenson.
On the 28th the First and Second Brigades of Davis' Division moved out, and the probability was that the Third would soon follow. This the men were willing for, as they usually enjoy the march, in pleasant weather, better than much laying in camp. After a few days in camp the routine of camp life becomes tiresome, and the men wish for a change. Sickness usually increases in proportion to the length of time spent in lying idle in camp, showing that it is more agreeable to be moving occasionally. In camp there are many more indulgences in the way of gormandizing, to be sure, than on the march; but the mind, also, has its influence in preserving the health of the soldier. On the march the mind is withdrawn from brooding over the sacrifices made, and a longing for the return of those home comforts and associations which have been so long left behind. The anticipations of coming events, the changes of scenery, both of a natural and artificial character, such as hills and dales, valleys and mountains, rivers and creeks, springs and rivulets, large plantations, with their fine mansions and negro cabins, beautiful groves and lawns, or the isolated log hut of the native forester—all tending to relieve the mind of "brooding melancholy," preserve the health, and restore the convalescent, by their ever-changing attractions to the soldier, as he passes them on the march.
The sick were now sent to the general field hospital, at Stevenson, and, on the morning of the 30th, the regiment struck tents, and moved out. Passing through Stevenson, it proceeded, by a short and direct road, to the Tennessee River. Here it bivouacked till a pontoon bridge was in readiness for crossing upon. About four o'clock in the evening the brigade crossed over, and went into camp one mile distant from the river.
The 30th of August was a beautiful day, and, while awaiting the opportunity to cross, the boys amused themselves bathing in the river. The river here was three-quarters of a mile wide, and many of the men swam from one shore to the other, apparently without much difficulty. It was very amusing to stand on the bank and witness the feats of agility performed by these aquatic actors. After witnessing this lively scene, the writer and Lieutenant Sanderson, of Company A, seated themselves in the shade, near the pontoons, to witness the activity of the scene in that vicinity. Just below the bridge was the only place where the mules could be taken to water, and here the hundreds of mules and horses belonging to the trains were now being brought. Each driver brought six mules, fastened together, so that, by riding one, the others could be led without difficulty. On coming to the water there was such a crowd of them that a great deal of trouble was sometimes required to get them out without becoming considerably entangled. Swearing is a universal practice amongst M.D.'s, and now it was remarkable. It seemed as though each one tried to do more of it than any one else could. The writer had noticed that not one had left the water without leaving many curses resting on the "souls" of his poor mules. He finally remarked to the Lieutenant that he believed all mule-drivers, without an exception, would swear.
"It seems so," said the Lieutenant, "but yonder is a fellow who has been trying to disentangle his mules for some time, and he has not yet used an oath."
Patiently the fellow worked for sometime longer, but to no purpose. The mules were very stubborn, and resisted all entreaty to come to shore in order. Patience now ceases to be a virtue, and he let out—and, of all the swearing that had been heard that day, his was most satanic—'twas awful. The Lieutenant gave it up, and acknowledged that all M.D.'s would swear.
Colonel Post's brigade was now constituted rear guard to the corps train, and was, of course, the last to cross the river, and will be the last to cross the Sand Mountain, which now looms up before us. The crossing will be most difficult. The road is said to be very rugged, and in many places so steep that it will be impossible for the teams to pull the wagons up. The passage of the Alps, in miniature, is before us, and Colonel Post, in size and stature, as he directs the men in their labors, brings to mind the "Little Corporal," as he is represented in the "passage of those alpine heights."
Early in the morning the ascent of the train commences. The four regiments of the brigade have gone on, and been distributed along the ascent by detachments, so as to be in readiness to assist any of the teams that should be unable to make the "riffle." The road, in its tortuous course, was frequently obstructed by huge flat rock, broken square, so that the wagon-wheels would have to be lifted twelve or fifteen inches perpendicularly to get over them. At such places, as many men as could get near the wagon would lay hold and hoist it, and then the mules could again proceed. About two o'clock the trains succeeded in reaching the top of the mountain, and the brigade then moved on for two or three miles, and took up quarters for the night. The descent was almost as difficult as the ascent, and the brigade was again stationed at the difficult places, as before. Where the declivity was steep large ropes were fastened to the rear of the wagons, and grasped by as many soldiers as was necessary to keep the wagon from rushing upon and crushing the mules in front. The crossing of Sand Mountain was accomplished, and the brigade again went into quarters.
From the 2d day of September until the 6th, the trains were moved by easy stages towards the foot of Lookout Mountain, at a point called Valley Head. Here they went into corral to await the movements of the army in the front. The brigade, of course, also went into quarters. Valley Head is about forty miles from Chattanooga, and about the same distance from Rome, Ga. It is enclosed by Sand Mountain on the west, and Lookout Mountain on the east. It extends between these mountains from this point up to the Tennessee River. It is a very narrow valley, and is poorly improved. An occasional plantation only being met with. Here, at Valley Head, are two or three good plantations, but very much impaired by the depredations of the soldier, both rebel and Union. Here the fences had been burned from many of the fields, and some buildings destroyed by the rebels before the Union soldiers came to the neighborhood. The plantation on which the brigade was now camped, was in a measure destroyed by the rebel soldiers. Major Winston, the owner of the plantation, had been opposed to the war, and had suffered these depredations in consequence.
On the 10th, the trains were again in motion. They moved to the foot of the mountain, and again went into corral. The Fifty-Ninth Regiment moved to the top of the mountain, and bivouacked about two miles in advance of the wagons. Here it lay until the 13th, when it was again moved down to the foot of the mountain.
The road up the Lookout Mountain is here very good, and offers no great obstructions to the passage of the trains. It winds around all the steep acclivities, and misses all the large rock that project from the sides of this mountain. Huge masses of rock are everywhere hanging from the top and sides of this mountain; in some places affording "look out" points, from which may be seen the valley beneath, and the mountains around as far as vision can extend. It is from these points that the mountain derives its name of "Lookout." A few rods from the road is one of these projections, allowing a full view of Valley Head with all its surroundings.
On the 18th, the brigade again ascended the mountain, and made a forced march of about twenty-five miles towards Chattanooga, going into camp sometime after night, not far below Dug Gap, and near the eastern summit of the mountain.
The 19th was spent in camp, with orders to be ready to move at a moment's warning. A battle was now momentarily expected to take place in the valley below, and the boys were very restless. Not far from camp was a famous "look out," and hundreds of the soldiers visited it through the day for the purpose of viewing the "landscape o'er." From this point, the whole of Lookout, or Chattanooga Valley could be seen. For miles the valley is spread out to the view in all its variegated loveliness. Plantations, with their white mansions visible, here and there are seen, nestled as it were, in dark, deep forests; wreaths of smoke ascending from the depths of other clumps of dark, dense foliage, indicates the habitations of other dwellers in the valley, yet no house is seen. Nearer by, the open fields, with their herds of cattle and their flocks in pasture, as yet undisturbed by the ruthless soldier, and close by the planter's house and negro cabins. These may be seen with the naked eye. With a field glass or telescope, another feature is added to the scene. Soldiers, both cavalry and infantry could be seen marching in the distance, far over towards the Chickamauga. From this deep valley, now comes up the booming of distant cannon, adding deep interest to the scene. The armies are as yet only feeling for each others weakness—to-morrow they will try each others strength.
All day the point was crowded with eager eyes, looking over that vast field of vision. And in the morning, as early as the light permitted, some returned to see what change the night might have produced, and they were well satisfied with their early visit. Before the sun began to shed his rays above the horizon, the scene presented in the valley below reminded one of an ocean of water. The smoke and fog had settled through the night on all the lower lands of the valley, and resembled in appearance the blue of the deep waters of the ocean. The ridges in the valley elevated the tops of the trees growing upon them, above this canopy of smoke, and gave them the appearance of islands in the ocean. As soon as the god of day began to pencil the horizon with his rays, the oceanic illusion vanished. At first a faint tinge of red appeared, and from this the redness gradually increased and grew broader and deeper until his whole broad face was visible. Redder and more fiery than any living coal was his appearance. It was not the white heat of noon-day, but the most brilliant red imaginable. The sight was most magnificent—most sublime. The setting sun, as witnessed from the "point" on the opposite side of the mountain was most beautiful—but this was most sublime.
At seven o'clock the order came to march. At eight the brigade was in motion, and in an hour it was wending its way across the valley towards the battlefield of Chickamauga. About twelve o'clock it had reached the "Crawfish Springs," and formed in position to resist an expected attack from the enemy. Before getting to the Springs rebels had been seen hovering on the flank of our command, and one or two shots had been fired at our advanced skirmishers.
On arriving at the Springs it was ascertained that the enemy had intercepted our march with too heavy a force for our brigade to advance against, and that he was also throwing a large force upon our right and rear. This was more than had been anticipated, and it became evident that there was now only one course to pursue, and that was to get away from the Springs in the best way possible. The only way to do this was to take the road towards Chattanooga immediately—this was done. The train moved on in advance, and the regiments followed. The command bivouacked about five miles from Chattanooga, and lay on their arms that night. The next day it moved two miles farther towards town, and on the morning of the 22d continued the retreat until it reached the lines at Chattanooga. When within about one mile of the lines the enemy began to throw shells into the ranks. The battery nearest the command from the lines in town, being apprised of the approach of the rebels, now came out and replied so vigorously to the rebel battery that it soon withdrew and the brigade marched in unhurt. In coming from the mountain to the Springs several stragglers were taken prisoners by the rebels. The Fifty-Ninth lost three or four men in this way. Had the brigade been one hour later in coming up to Chattanooga it would have been cut off and captured. The army had all fallen back the day before, and Post's command was the only one outside of the strong position in front of town. The position was now so well chosen, and our lines so compact, that the enemy dare not attack it.
The campaign for the summer was now over, and the army intrenched itself at Chattanooga. Works were immediately constructed sufficient in strength and magnitude, to resist any attempt on the part of the enemy to take the town, and the army quietly awaited further developments. The campaign had been a severe and tedious one. The men were worn out and needed rest. Their clothing was becoming thin and the weather disagreeable, so that they began to suffer for the want of comfortable covering to protect them from the storm and against the cold and chilly nights. It was fully time they were also better supplied with food as well as clothing. Rations were becoming very short. One half rations of bread and one quarter rations of bacon was all the most of the men could get, and some of them, for a time, did not get even so much as that. For about ten days after the occupation of Chattanooga the men of the Fifty-Ninth Illinois Regiment received five crackers each for three days' rations, with about the same proportion of bacon. This was a near approach to starvation.
The enemy now invested Chattanooga closely; artillery firing was practiced daily, and many a laugh was had at the expense of the rebel shells. Thousands of shells were thrown at Chattanooga during the siege, without doing any damage of any kind, except, perhaps, in one case. It was said that a negro man, while bringing water from the spring, was shot through by a solid six-pound ball. This, however, is doubted.
One of the boys of Company K, of the Fifty-Ninth, was frying his ration of bacon one morning when a twelve pounder struck his pan and knocked it into the "middle of next week," and the boy lost his bacon.
The Fifty-Ninth lay behind breast-works on the left bank of Chattanooga Creek, and the rebel pickets were stationed on the opposite bank, not over two hundred yards distant. The water from the creek supplied both parties, and meetings would frequently take place between the boys and the rebels, when they would have a friendly chat and a tobacco or newspaper trade. An understanding was had between the parties that there should be no shooting at each other. These friendly relations continued until the regiment was removed to another part of the field.
The month of October was a very wet, rainy month, and caused some sickness in the regiment. Several of the men were compelled to give up doing duty and go to hospital, amongst whom was Sergeant William Curtis, of Company K, David M. Minard, of Company A, Sergeant Marcus D. Leigh, of Company F, and John B. Forester, of Company F. These were all young men of exemplary reputations for good moral conduct and soldierly behavior in all their intercourse with the regiment. They had undergone all the hardships, and endured all the exposure and fatigue of all the marches and campaigns, and been in all the battles the regiment had experienced since being in the service. The friends and relations of these young men have now to mourn them as numbered among the honored dead. Sergeant Curtis died at Chattanooga on the 26th of October, 1863, William M. Minard on the 2d of December, 1863, Sergeant Leigh died at Nashville on the 26th of December, 1863, soon after being removed from Chattanooga, and John B. Forester on the 7th day of January, 1864, at Louisville, Kentucky.
About the middle of October the regiment crossed the Tennessee River, and went up into the Sequatchie Valley, with a train, after forage. It was gone three days, and had a good time of it. In the Valley the boys found plenty of hogs, chickens, honey, and other luxuries, which were unsparingly appropriated. An order to go foraging was always hailed with delight, as it promised better living than was usually to be had in camp.
The question is frequently discussed in camp, "Why are we not better provided for—why are we compelled to live on hard bread and old bacon?" We are fighting our own battles, at our own expense, and we are able and willing to pay for good living. Why do we not get it? Is the question an unreasonable one? Can any one satisfactorily explain the reason why our soldiers are restricted to a certain kind of food? and such food, too, as no man thinks of living on at home. The expense of providing good palatable diet—such as bread, with salt and shortening in it, instead of that which is so hard and tasteless—with potatoes, beans, fruit, etc., etc.,—would be more than saved by preserving the health of the men, and thereby keeping them on duty, instead of having them become scorbutic and worthless to the Government, and not only worthless, but a useless expense. After the scurvy is established in the system of the soldier, a more generous diet is resorted to for the removal of the disease. Why not provide the diet as a preventive to the disease?
On the 25th of October, the brigade left Chattanooga for Shell Mound. Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, the Fifty-Ninth broke camp and marched down to the river. The other regiments of the brigade were crossing over on the pontoon bridge below town, and the Fifty-Ninth fell into column at the proper time and crossed over.
The bridge at this point is about three hundred yards long, and requires fifty-two pontoons to float it. A few nights before the regiment crossed, the rebels sent a large raft, made of heavy timber, down the river, which striking the bridge, stove it into pieces. It did not take long to repair it, and very little damage was done by this sharp trick.
After crossing, the command took the road leading down through the river bottom lands for five miles, when it reached the foot of the Sequatchie Mountain. Here it rested a short time, and the men refreshed themselves with a hard tack and a slice of bacon. Before them now looms up a mountain, around the side of which winds a road four miles long, which they must climb. The bugle sounds, and the march up the mountain commences. Had there been nothing to attract attention on the way, the march would have been a toilsome one, but as it was, the men did not think of getting weary. The road in many places was marked by objects of much interest on the side of the road next the mountain. Masses of rock of all shapes and of every dimension meet the view. Some of these appeared just ready to fall, and crush the column as it passed. Here was one forming a perpendicular wall, of a hundred feet in height, and three hundred in length; and then another of as large dimensions, in appearance like to an old ancient castle set in the side of the mountain. Here is another, with an opening to a cave within, of unknown extent. There issues a stream of limpid water large enough to turn the wheels of fortune; and not far from this, a beautiful jet of pure, cold water bursts, as it were, from out the solid rock, and trickles along, way down the mountain, in pearly drops. At the foot of the mountain, the Tennessee River urges its way through its narrow rock-bound channel, in billowy grandeur. It is only now and then that its waters can be seen from the line of march, but when they are, it is only to cause a frequent turning of the eye in that direction to get another glimpse.
In this passage up the mountain, there is one place, of half a mile in length, which is called the "Narrows." From the high bluffs, on the opposite side of the river, a minnie ball may be thrown against the rocks above the road, on the Sequatchie Mountain. Several mules and one or two men had been killed while passing these narrows by rebel sharp shooters, from the bluffs across the river. Two or three shots were fired at the column now passing, but no one was hit. About one o'clock the regiment arrived at the summit of the mountain, and there halted for dinner.
After dinner and an hour's rest, the march was continued. The road now taken is called the Old Ridge Road. It leads along the summit of this ridge for twenty miles. Sometimes the ridge is just broad enough for the passage of a single wagon, and at these places you can look down, down, down, until your head swims. There are some very good "look out" points on this ridge.
The regiment went into camp on the evening of the 26th, near one of these points, and had the pleasure of witnessing the departure of Old Sol, as he disappeared below the horizon. It was a pretty sight. During the twilight they had an opportunity of looking up and down the Sequatchie Valley, as it lay in the depths below. It had the appearance of being a very rich and finely cultivated country. Farms and farm houses were quite numerous and seemed snug and inviting.
The descent from this mountain summit commenced early on the morning of the 27th, and after ascending and descending innumerable acclivities and declivities, the regiment went into camp on the bank of the Tennessee River. Here it was expected that the command would be ferried across the river, at what was called Brown's Ferry, but after about two hours in quarters, the order came to march. It was still about seven miles to Shell Mound, and this was the distance now to be marched. The sun was setting, as the regiment moved out, and about nine o'clock it crossed the river at Shell Mound, and went into camp again.
Shell Mound is seven miles above Bridgeport, and twenty-one below Chattanooga. To get from Chattanooga here, the command had marched sixty-miles. Shell Mound derives its name from the innumerable quantity of shells that is piled up there. The entire mound is composed of muscle shell, as though they had been hauled there and tilted from the cart. Their number is most astonishing. It might be supposed that all the muscles from the first creation to the present time had made this their charnel house.
If some shrewd Yankee should ever take it into his head to load a few flat-boats with these shells, and have them pulverized and barreled up, he could make a fortune by selling the powder as a fertilizer for Northern farms. This bed of shells is ten feet deep at the river brink, and covers several acres, in some places to a greater depth.
At this place is another great curiosity—the "Negro Jack Cave," as it is called by the natives. The entrance to this cave is large—perhaps twenty feet wide, and fifteen feet to the arch above. The arch is most beautifully turned, smooth and regular. The smoke from the fires which have been kindled under this arch has given it a cloudy appearance, which is very pretty. This is a saltpetre cave, and the rebels have had very extensive works through it. Around the entrance, on the outside, are furnaces and kettles; on the inside are hundreds of filterers, or hoppers, for filtering the clay, which holds the saltpetre. On penetrating fifty or sixty feet within, the light disappears, and it is necessary to use torches or candles to see the way over the slimy hillocks of mud and broken stone, which fill the passages. The cave is said to be fifteen miles in length. There is a large stream of water running through it, which has been ascended by canoes for ten miles, from the entrance. This stream flows out from an opening a short distance to the right of the mouth of the cave, in size sufficient to turn a large grist mill. It is crossed on a plank bridge, about five hundred feet from the mouth of the cave. The water can not be seen, but a stone dropped from the bridge can be heard as it plunges into the water far below. The walls, in some places, are very rough, and in others quite smooth.
Some distance, after crossing the river, you come to a small chamber, which is very pretty. It is, perhaps, twenty feet square. The ceiling is ornamented with stalactites, resembling icicles, and the walls are perpendicular and smooth. The corners and the edges of the ceiling are as though they had been ornamented by some master workman. There are many different passages leading from the main entrance, and great attention is required, or you lose your way.
When Buell's army was here some of his boys got lost in this cave, and were three days in finding the way out, and would not then if a band of music had not went in, and blowed their instruments, which were heard by the wanderers, and thus discovered to them the direction they ought to take. While seeking their way out, these boys came across the body of a Lieutenant, who had lost his way, and thus perished. This cave received the name of "Negro Jack" because of its having been the hiding place of an old negro by that name, in an early day.
There had been a small town at Shell Mound, and the railroad depot was yet standing when our boys got there, but the next morning it was torn down to make shelters and fires for the men. It was a nice brick depot, and its destruction ought not to have been allowed. It was the last of Shell Mound City. The saltpetre works are all destroyed, and there is nothing here now of interest but the pontoon bridge across the river.
The regiments lay at Shell Mound two days, and then moved up to Whitesides, seven miles nearer Chattanooga. Here the brigade went into winter quarters. Whiteside Station is fourteen miles below Chattanooga, and is at the foot of Raccoon Mountain, in Marion County, Tennessee. Camp is situated on the side of the mountain, just above the railroad, and is within protecting distance of the "Falling Waters" railroad bridge, now in course of reconstruction. This bridge was destroyed by the rebels on the approach of Buell's army. It was a fine structure, and cost ninety-five thousand dollars. It was five hundred feet in length, and ninety-five feet in height.
The mountain summit is at least a thousand feet above camp. Near the top is a large ledge of rock, and just below this ledge is an opening to a coal mine. These mountains are full of coal, and there are several mines within a short distance of camp.
The chute from the one above the depot, deposits the coal near where it is loaded upon the cars for shipment. These chutes are square tunnels, made of boards. By putting the coal in at the top, it is conducted, with the rapidity of a cannon ball, to the bottom. The boys are now amusing themselves by throwing large stones into this chute, and watching them come out at the bottom. Below camp runs a small mountain stream called the "Falling Waters." On the opposite side of this stream rises another mountain, to the height of two thousand feet. The Ninth Indiana Regiment is stationed on the summit of this mountain.
While at Chattanooga, the army was reorganized, and, instead of four regiments, there were now eight in a brigade. Colonel Post was now acting as President of a Board of Claims, and Colonel Gross, of the Thirty-Sixth Indiana, was in command of the brigade. The brigade consisted of the Fifty-Ninth Illinois, Seventy-Fifth Illinois, Eightieth Illinois, Ninth Indiana, Thirty-Sixth Indiana, Ninety-Sixth Ohio, and Eighty-Fourth Illinois Regiments. The eighth regiment had not yet joined the brigade.
Colonel P. Sidney Post, on relinquishing the command of the First Brigade of General Davis' old division, which was consolidated in the new organization, issued the following order:
"Headqu'rs 1st Brig., 1st Div., 20th Army Corps,"Chattanooga, Oct. 16, '63."General Order No. 51.—In the organization of the army, this brigade will lose its identity, and be transferred to another division and corps. Organized on the banks of the Ohio more than a year ago, it has traversed Kentucky and Tennessee, scaled the mountains of Northern Alabama and Georgia, and now terminates its existence on the south bank of the Tennessee. The year during which it has remained intact will ever be remembered as that in which the gallant armies of the West rolled back the advancing hosts of the rebellion, and extinguished the Confederacy in the valley of the Mississippi. In accomplishing this glorious achievement, you—soldiers of the First Brigade—have performed no mean part. On the laborious march you have been patient and energetic, and in the skirmish and battle second to none in stubborn valor and success. In one year you lost upon the battle-field eight hundred and fifty heroic comrades. Baptised in blood at Perryville, this brigade led the army in pursuit of the retreating foe, and again attacks him at Lancaster, whence he fled from Kentucky. In the mid-winter campaign it opened the battle at Stone River, by attacking and driving the enemy from Nolensville, on the memorable 31st of December, together with the rest of the Twentieth Army Corps valiantly met the attack of the concentrated opposing army. At Liberty Gap, and in the late battle of Chickamauga, it performed well the part assigned it, and finishes its honorable career weaker in number but strong in the confidence and discipline of invincible veterans. For the able and hearty co-operations its commander has received from the officers, and for the cheerful support yielded by its gallant men, he returns his sincere thanks. No petty jealousies, no intrigue or demoralizing influences, have ever disgraced and paralyzed our efforts for the country's cause; and the commander unites in the just pride which all feel in the history of, and in their connection with, the First Brigade, First Division, Twentieth Army Corps."P. SIDNEY POST,"Colonel Commanding Brigade."
"Headqu'rs 1st Brig., 1st Div., 20th Army Corps,"Chattanooga, Oct. 16, '63.
"General Order No. 51.—In the organization of the army, this brigade will lose its identity, and be transferred to another division and corps. Organized on the banks of the Ohio more than a year ago, it has traversed Kentucky and Tennessee, scaled the mountains of Northern Alabama and Georgia, and now terminates its existence on the south bank of the Tennessee. The year during which it has remained intact will ever be remembered as that in which the gallant armies of the West rolled back the advancing hosts of the rebellion, and extinguished the Confederacy in the valley of the Mississippi. In accomplishing this glorious achievement, you—soldiers of the First Brigade—have performed no mean part. On the laborious march you have been patient and energetic, and in the skirmish and battle second to none in stubborn valor and success. In one year you lost upon the battle-field eight hundred and fifty heroic comrades. Baptised in blood at Perryville, this brigade led the army in pursuit of the retreating foe, and again attacks him at Lancaster, whence he fled from Kentucky. In the mid-winter campaign it opened the battle at Stone River, by attacking and driving the enemy from Nolensville, on the memorable 31st of December, together with the rest of the Twentieth Army Corps valiantly met the attack of the concentrated opposing army. At Liberty Gap, and in the late battle of Chickamauga, it performed well the part assigned it, and finishes its honorable career weaker in number but strong in the confidence and discipline of invincible veterans. For the able and hearty co-operations its commander has received from the officers, and for the cheerful support yielded by its gallant men, he returns his sincere thanks. No petty jealousies, no intrigue or demoralizing influences, have ever disgraced and paralyzed our efforts for the country's cause; and the commander unites in the just pride which all feel in the history of, and in their connection with, the First Brigade, First Division, Twentieth Army Corps.
"P. SIDNEY POST,"Colonel Commanding Brigade."
On the morning of the 23d of November, the brigade broke up camp at Whitesides and took up the line of march towards Chattanooga. About six o'clock that evening it went into quarters at the foot of Lookout Mountain. The anticipation was that the command would cross the river the next morning and join General Sherman, who was about engaging the enemy above Chattanooga. This anticipation was not realized. Early on the morning of the 24th the men were under arms and facing the Lookout. Soon the column commenced moving, and now the object of the move became apparent—which was no less than the storming of Lookout Mountain. Is it possible that these men are to march up that rugged mountain side in the face of a relentless foe above, who are prepared to hurl destruction down upon them from the height. Nothing daunted by the formidable task assigned them, the troops moved boldly forward. The enemy resisted stubbornly, but could not withstand the onward move of our brave men. The fight was terrific for about five hours. The Third brigade acted nobly, and the Fifty-Ninth Illinois added new laurels to her war-worn banner. Not a man wavered, but each vied with the other in urging on the advance.
Those who witnessed the maneuvering of the men—and every move could be seen from Chattanooga and the adjacent hills—expressed the greatest admiration at the masterly manner in which the regiments made their charges. The Fifty-Ninth retained an unbroken line during the whole of this arduous contest. General Hooker, who witnessed the whole affair, remarked that he never saw a more perfect line of battle maintained by any regiment, during successive charges, than was here maintained by the Fifty-Ninth Illinois. The regiment lost but one killed and three wounded. The rebels invariably over-shot us. James Medford, of Company G, was killed while in the act of shooting at the enemy.
The morning of the 25th revealed to all in the valley below the glorious flag of the Union floating over the point of Lookout.
Early on the morning of the 25th our brigade again advanced and skirmished with the enemy all the way across Chattanooga Valley to Missionary Ridge. Here the enemy attempted to make another stand. With a shout our men charged upon them with fixed bayonets and again put them to flight. In this charge the Fifty-Ninth was in the advance, and was the first regiment to reach the summit of the Ridge. Although the charge was a most dangerous one, only one man of the regiment was wounded.
The regiment lay on the Ridge that night, and at sunrise continued the pursuit. On the morning of the 28th, the command reached Ringgold, eighteen miles from Chattanooga. At this place the rebels made another stand, and the battle raged most furiously all the forenoon, but terminated in the complete rout of the enemy. The Fifty-Ninth was on the field and in line of battle, but did not become engaged.
After the battle, the Third Brigade was ordered to move five miles down the railroad towards Tunnel Hill, and ascertain how far the rebs had gone. About four miles from town a line of battle was discovered in our front, and the brigade was halted. Here it remained 'till after dark, when many fires were kindled as if it was intended to remain all night, but the men silently withdrew behind the lights and returned to town.
On the afternoon of the 30th, the brigade started on its return to Whitesides. The division returned through the Chickamauga battle field, and spent all the 1st day of December in burying the dead that had been left unburied by the rebs. After over two months' exposure, there was nothing left of the bodies but bones to bury. Hundreds of these were found and covered. They had buried their own dead, but the Union soldier was left to moulder where he fell. On the 6th day of December the regiment again went into winter quarters, in their old camp at Whitesides.
There was now a fair prospect of remaining in camp for some time, and the boys went to work in earnest to prepare themselves comfortable shanties. In a few days they were all comfortably housed, and ready for all kinds of mischief.
Corporal William A. Gilbert was left in hospital at Whitesides when the regiment marched, and soon after its return he departed this life. He was buried with the honors of war, on a pleasant spot above camp, on the side of Raccoon Mountain.
The regiment, on this expedition, was commanded by Major Clayton Hale, Lieutenant Colonel Winters having resigned and gone home, a short time before the regiment moved. Captain James H. Stookey was Acting Major. These two officers, soon afterwards, received a promotion—the one, Major Hale, received a commission as Lieutenant-Colonel; the other, Captain Stookey, a commission as Major of the Fifty-Ninth Regiment Illinois Volunteers. Captain Stookey's promotion was highly pleasing to the men of the regiment. By his unassuming manners, and kindly disposition, he had obtained the good will and esteem, not only of the men belonging to his own company, but of the whole regiment. He had proven himself a brave, good officer, and one of the best tacticians in the regiment. His promotion was richly merited. Major Hale had never taken any pains to conciliate the feelings of the men towards himself, but had ever been reticent in his manners towards the private soldier, and, consequently, had lost that feeling of regard which friendly communings, and social manners, always engenders.
While the regiment lay at Ringgold, an order was received at head-quarters authorizing the enlistment of veteran volunteers, to serve for three years, or during the war, with the proviso that those who had been in service for two years would be accepted, and none others; and that each should receive a bounty of four hundred and two dollars, and a thirty days furlough; and, also, that their old term of service should expire, and their new term commence, on the day of enlistment. Some fifteen or twenty re-enlisted immediately, and, after returning to Whitesides, some two hundred and fifty others entered their names for the veteran service. This, according to an act of the War Department, constituted the Fifty-Ninth a veteran regiment. It, therefore, now lost its identity as the Fifty-Ninth Regiment Illinois Volunteers, and assumed the name of Fifty-Ninth Veteran Volunteer Infantry Regiment of Illinois. The men were mustered on the 5th day of January, 1864, as veterans, and, on the 13th of February, arrived at Springfield, Illinois, to receive their promised furloughs. On their arrival, Adjutant-General Fuller addressed to them the following beautiful expression of welcome and regard:
"I congratulate you on your soldierly appearance, and the favorable auspices under which you have returned to fill up your decimated ranks. The liberal bounties offered by the Government, and the almost universal liberal policy adopted by the several counties of the State to aid and encourage enlistments, together with the high character which your regiment has deservedly acquired, will, doubtless, attract to your ranks hundreds of our patriotic and loyal young men who have awaited the return of our veteran regiments to identify their destinies and unite their fortunes with them.
"On the 21st of September, 1861, you took the field as undisciplined recruits. You now return a regiment of veteranvolunteers, and as such are entitled to wear the badge of honor—the mark of distinction—the evidence of recognition of your country for past meritorious service.
"So great was the rush to arms in this State, in the early stages of the rebellion, you were unable to obtain admission as the Ninth Missouri. At that time our sister State of Missouri was undergoing the throes of a revolution within her own borders, and nothing but the strong arm of military power prevented her from throwing off her allegiance to the General Government, and openly espousing the cause of her enemies. Your services, and that of other Illinois regiments, did much to rescue her from the abyss of ruin into which she was plunging.
"Though you went to the field, and have returned from it unheralded, your history is not unknown, nor have your services been unnoticed. Without disparagement to others, all of whom have done so well, I can truly say that in no Illinois regiment has the State authorities and the people of the State taken a stronger interest, or felt a greater pride, than in the Fifty-Ninth. Why should they not? The rapidity of your long marches, your patient endurance, and your daring dash in battles, have rarely, if ever, been excelled. The Polish Lancers were not more fleet, nor the French Hussars more daring, nor the English veterans more unyielding, than you. And, while you have been making the circuit of Western battle-fields, as this, the general officers under whom you have served, testify of you.
"We hear of you on the 22d of September, 1861, embarking on transports at St. Louis for Jefferson City. At Jefferson City on that day, we hear of you at Otterville, on the 1st of October; at Syracuse on the 14th; at Warsaw, on the 24th; crossing the Osage on the 25th; by forced marches, at Springfield on the 3d of November; at Syracuse again on the 17th of November; at Lamoine Bridge preparing winter quarters, December 7th; at Lamoine Bridge again on the 15th; breaking camp again and marching in mud, and rain, and snow, with scanty camp and garrison equipage and half rations, for Lebanon; leaving Lebanon on the 10th of February for Springfield, as a part of General Curtis' army, to fight the rebels under Price, at that place. You arrive on the 13th, and find the enemy fled; pursuing and fighting the rear guard, you bring him to battle and fight and whip him at Dry Springs; crossing the Arkansas line on the 19th; at Cross Hollows on the 22d; and at Pea Ridge, on the 7th and 8th of March, shoulder to shoulder, with the Twenty-Fifth, Thirty-Seventh, Davidson's Battery, and other Illinois troops, you fight and win one of the most stubborn and well-contested battles of the war.
"Without rest after this terrible struggle, and the enemy leaving their dead Generals behind, and fleeing across the Ozark Mountains, you leave Pea Ridge on the 10th, and we hear of you at Cross Timbers, April 6th; at Bull Creek, April 20th; at Sulphur Rock, May 10th; and at Cape Girardeau, almost in sight of your homes, May 20th; en route to reinforce General Halleck's army at Pittsburg Landing, stopping at Paducah a short time, on the 24th; you hear from Governor Yates, who there addressed you cheering words upon what had transpired while you were in the "wilderness;" you proceed to Hamburg Landing, and participate in the engagement of the 30th of that month. On the 3d of June we again hear from you at Boonville, Miss., in pursuit of the enemy; at Ripley, Miss., on the 30th; at Jacinto, Miss., on the 4th of July; at Iuka, Ala., on the 15th of August; at Florence, on the 24th; at Murfreesboro', September 2d; at Nashville, September 4th; at Bowling Green, on the 17th; at Louisville, on the 26th; and entering the fight at Perryville, on the 7th of October, with three hundred and sixty-one men, and coming out of it with less than two-thirds that number.
"The distance actually marched, from the time you left Boonville, Mo., until you bivouacked at Franklin, Tenn., was two thousand five hundred and forty-seven miles. With such a record of marches and counter marches, of skirmishes and battles, you have indeed merited the compliment paid you by one of your Generals, as the 'grey hound, or fleet-footed fighting regiment of Illinois.'
"I have no time to dwell upon the honorable and brilliant part you bore in the subsequent battles of Stone River, Chickamauga and Chattanooga. Nine hundred and fifty-seven men have entered your regiment, at and since its organization. Two hundred and sixty-seven have re-enlisted as veterans. These figures tell the tale, and are more eloquent of your praise than any words which I could utter. You will be furloughed for thirty days, and at the expiration of that time, rendezvous here for re-organization. The good people of Coles, Cumberland, Edgar, Greene, Knox, Madison, McDonough, St. Clair and Warren, who have an especial interest in your fame and welfare, will welcome you with loving words and open arms. Return then, to families and friends, and receive a soldier's welcome and your country's gratitude.
"But in your thankfulness to a kind Providence which has permitted you to return to receive your children's love, your brother's friendship, and your parent's blessings, forget not to console the bereaved. Bleeding hearts await you to learn the last tidings of those who have wasted away by disease, or been stricken down by your sides. Comfort bereaved ones by the assurance that your fallen comrades maintained the fair fame of a Union soldier while living, and died while manfully battling for their country and their country's cause.
"General White, in whom I recognize a true gentleman, a gallant officer and an old friend, and under whom you served on many long marches, and at the memorable battle of Pea Ridge, I feel assured can not resist the temptation to address his old comrades, now impatient to hear him."
General White then said: "Fellow soldiers of the Fifty-Ninth. The language usually employed at the meeting of friends, does not express the emotion experienced by me on this occasion. In you I recognize not only patriots, who have devoted themselves to the rescue of our country from the hands of traitors, but men with whom it was my fortune to share the toils, privations and dangers of the soldiers' life in camp, on the march and on the battle-field. The bond of affection thus created is well known to officers and soldiers; and may it never be broken."
After a few further remarks, the General retired and the men, on the reception of their furloughs, dispersed to their beloved homes, until duty again called them to the field.
On the departure of the "veterans" for Springfield, those who did not re-enlist, to the number of eighty, were assigned to duty with the Seventy-Fifth Illinois Regiment. Here they remained until the Fifty-Ninth returned to the field, when they rejoined it and continued in their old companies until their term of service terminated, which was on the 6th day of September, 1864, three years and one month after being mustered in at St. Louis. Their three years' service really expired on the 6th day of August, but by some chicanery or other they were compelled to serve one month beyond that time, and even then did not get their discharge papers until about the 15th of September, being kept in idleness and suspense for ten days after being relieved from duty. The last month of their service, which was the month of their conscription, was the most arduous and most dangerous of any during their three years' servitude. It was the last month of General Sherman's campaign against Atlanta. On the last day of their term of service, the 6th of September, they made one of the most desperate charges on the rebel line of works that had ever been made by any other regiment during the campaign. Several of the veterans were killed and many wounded; and one of the non-vets, Jacob Rader, of Company F, whose term of service, according to an original act of the War Department, had expired on the 24th of June, over two months previous, that being the day of his enlistment, was severely if not mortally wounded. Another one, James Rowsey, of the same company, was mortally wounded in the head, and died in a few days afterwards. His term expired on the 6th of August, one month previous, but his life was sacrificed to the unjust conscription now being practiced upon those who could not consistently re-enlist as veterans. Whether this injustice was due to any act of the War Department, or to the neglect or inhuman feelings of the commanders in the army is left for others than the writer to decide.
One Donathy, of Company K, also a non-veteran, was killed on the 4th day of July, while making a charge on the enemy's lines. The remainder of the non-veterans finally left the army on the 12th day of September, and, after much difficulty and great risk, arrived at Louisville, Kentucky, where they were paid, and received an honorable discharge, and were now permitted to return to their homes. Long may they live to enjoy the peace and comfort they so richly deserve! May their lives be prolonged on the earth until the last enemy of the free institutions of this glorious Union be called hence, to render up the final accounts to Him who judgeth the quick and the dead.