The regiment was encamped in the midst of a fruitful region; peaches, plums, and blackberries were very abundant, and of these the men had plenty. As an offset to these advantages, there were many poisonous insects and reptiles. One soldier relates, that, upon awakening one morning, he found a rattlesnake snugly coiled up under his knapsack, upon which he had rested his head during the night. It was by no means seldom that these and other reptiles equally venomous were killed in and about the camp.
On Sunday the 28th, the regiment received orders to prepare and keep constantly on hand five days’ rations and sixty rounds of cartridges, and to be ready to move at short notice. On the morning of the following day, it was ordered to pack knapsacks and start immediately; a distance of five miles was marched, and a halt made beside the road. Toward night the wind rose to a hurricane, and then came on a severe storm of rain, with thunder and lightning, actually flooding the earth, which a few minutes before had been parched and dusty. The storm continued till morning, andthe night was spent in the forest, without tents. The next day was warm and sultry, and a halt, for the greater part of it, was made near the place of the previous night’s encampment for the purpose of proceeding with the formalities of mustering the regiment for pay. The Twenty-ninth, together with other portions of the corps, were heading towards Vicksburg, moving along by short and slow marches till the morning of the 4th of July, when, at an early hour, the men were hurried out of their tents, and a rapid movement began in the direction of Grant’s front lines. The corps had approached to within a short distance of the city, when couriers came riding from the front bearing the cheering news that Vicksburg had fallen. Then followed a scene of the wildest joy; the exultant soldiers threw up their caps and cheered loud and long for Grant and the Union.
There was now no need of the regiment at the front; indeed, the only enemy left was at the rear, and a halt was immediately ordered, several of the officers and men taking advantage of the pause to visit the captured city.
At three o’clock in the afternoon, the regiment had orders to march, and proceeding some four miles towards the Big Black, halted on the side of a hill. Here the tents were pitched, and during the afternoon the whole of the division came up and went into camp about the hill. When the night came on, the celebrations of the day were revived; each company kindled a huge bonfire, and each man lighted a candle throughout the whole division. The effect of this illumination was extremely fine, and in keeping with the grand events of the day. The members of the regiment who went to Vicksburg returned, giving very full accounts of the things they had witnessed there, and some of them brought to camp copies of the “Daily Citizen,” a paper printed in Vicksburg (for the last time), July 2, 1863. The author has before him one of these copies, and as it is a very interesting relic of the war, and tells a part of the story of the siege, he will conclude this chapter with a description of the paper, and a few quotations from it.
The Vicksburg “Daily Citizen” was printed during the last part of the siege (having exhausted its supply of paper) upon any kind of material available, often appearing uponcommon brown wrapping-paper. The specimen in the author’s possession is printed on the plain side of a piece of common wall-paper, ten inches wide and sixteen inches long. Among the articles which it contains is an exaggerated account of General Lee’s campaign in Maryland, from which we quote:—
“We lay before our readers in this issue an account of Lee’s brilliant and successful onslaught upon the abolition hordes, and show, even from their own record, how our gallant boys of the cavalry have fleshed their swords to the hilt with their vaunting foes, and how each musket of our infantry has told its fatal leaden tale. To-day Maryland is ours, to-morrow Pennsylvania will be, and the next day Ohio—now midway, like Mahomet’s coffin—will fall. Success and glory to our arms! God and right are with us.”“On Dit.—That the great Ulysses—the Yankee generalissimo, surnamed Grant—has expressed his intention of dining in Vicksburg on Saturday next, and celebrating the Fourth of July by a grand dinner, and so forth. When asked if he would invite General Joe Johnston to join, he said, ‘No, for fear there will be a row at the table.’ Ulysses must get into the city before he dines in it. The way to cook a rabbit is ’first to catch the rabbit.’”“Victimized.—We learned of an instance wherein a ‘knight of the quill’ and a ‘disciple of the black art,’ with malice in their hearts and vengeance in their eyes, ruthlessly put a period to the existence of a venerable feline that has for a time, not within the recollection of ‘the oldest inhabitant,’ faithfully performed the duties to be expected of him, to the terror of sundry vermin in his neighborhood. Poor defunct Thomas was then prepared, not for the grave, but for the pot, and several friends invited to partake of a nice rabbit. As a matter of course, no one would wound the feelings of another, especially in these times, by refusing a cordial invitation to dinner, and the guests assisted in consuming the poor animal with a relish that did honor to their epicurean tastes. The ‘sold’ assure us the meat was delicious, and that pussy must look out for her safety.”“Mule Meat.—We are indebted to Major Gillespie for a steak of Confederate beef, alias mule. We have tried it, and can assure our friends that, if it is rendered necessary, they need have no scruples at eating the meat. It is sweet, savory, and tender, and so long as we have a mule left, we are satisfied our soldiers will be content to subsist upon it.”
“We lay before our readers in this issue an account of Lee’s brilliant and successful onslaught upon the abolition hordes, and show, even from their own record, how our gallant boys of the cavalry have fleshed their swords to the hilt with their vaunting foes, and how each musket of our infantry has told its fatal leaden tale. To-day Maryland is ours, to-morrow Pennsylvania will be, and the next day Ohio—now midway, like Mahomet’s coffin—will fall. Success and glory to our arms! God and right are with us.”
“On Dit.—That the great Ulysses—the Yankee generalissimo, surnamed Grant—has expressed his intention of dining in Vicksburg on Saturday next, and celebrating the Fourth of July by a grand dinner, and so forth. When asked if he would invite General Joe Johnston to join, he said, ‘No, for fear there will be a row at the table.’ Ulysses must get into the city before he dines in it. The way to cook a rabbit is ’first to catch the rabbit.’”
“Victimized.—We learned of an instance wherein a ‘knight of the quill’ and a ‘disciple of the black art,’ with malice in their hearts and vengeance in their eyes, ruthlessly put a period to the existence of a venerable feline that has for a time, not within the recollection of ‘the oldest inhabitant,’ faithfully performed the duties to be expected of him, to the terror of sundry vermin in his neighborhood. Poor defunct Thomas was then prepared, not for the grave, but for the pot, and several friends invited to partake of a nice rabbit. As a matter of course, no one would wound the feelings of another, especially in these times, by refusing a cordial invitation to dinner, and the guests assisted in consuming the poor animal with a relish that did honor to their epicurean tastes. The ‘sold’ assure us the meat was delicious, and that pussy must look out for her safety.”
“Mule Meat.—We are indebted to Major Gillespie for a steak of Confederate beef, alias mule. We have tried it, and can assure our friends that, if it is rendered necessary, they need have no scruples at eating the meat. It is sweet, savory, and tender, and so long as we have a mule left, we are satisfied our soldiers will be content to subsist upon it.”
As stated, the city was surrendered on the morning of the 4th of July, and the army of General Grant marched in and took possession. Some of the Federal soldiers who went intothe city entered the office of the “Citizen,” and finding the type for the paper all set in the forms, added the following note, and struck off a large number of copies, which were extensively distributed among our troops:—
“Note(at foot of last column).—July 4, 1863.“Two days bring about great changes: the banner of the Union floats over Vicksburg; General Grant has ‘caught the rabbit’; he has dined in Vicksburg, and he brought his dinner with him. The ‘Citizen’ lives to see it. For the last time, it appears on wall-paper. No more will it eulogize the luxury of mule meat and fricasseed kitten, or urge Southern warriors to such diet nevermore. This is the last wall-paper edition, and is, excepting this note, an exact copy of it. It will be valuable hereafter as a curiosity.”
“Note(at foot of last column).—July 4, 1863.
“Two days bring about great changes: the banner of the Union floats over Vicksburg; General Grant has ‘caught the rabbit’; he has dined in Vicksburg, and he brought his dinner with him. The ‘Citizen’ lives to see it. For the last time, it appears on wall-paper. No more will it eulogize the luxury of mule meat and fricasseed kitten, or urge Southern warriors to such diet nevermore. This is the last wall-paper edition, and is, excepting this note, an exact copy of it. It will be valuable hereafter as a curiosity.”
The author, deeming this paper a curious chapter in the history of the siege of Vicksburg, has thought it not improper to quote thus fully from its columns.
The Regiment Marches on Jackson—Jefferson Davis’s House—Siege of Jackson—The Regiment Under Fire—Evacuation of the City—A Part of the City is Burnt by the Enemy—Return to Vicksburg—A Hard March—“French Joe’s” Mule—The Dead of the Regiment—Return to Cincinnati—March Over Cumberland Mountains to Knoxville, Tenn.
As soon as the siege was concluded, General Grant immediately turned his attention to General Johnston, who up to this time had held the line of the Big Black, watching for a chance to strike our besieging army. The time had now arrived for the Ninth Corps to perform its part of the work of that memorable campaign. As soon as General Johnston learned of Pemberton’s surrender, he began to fall back to Jackson, the capital of the State. The Ninth Corps under General Parke, together with General Smith’s division of the Sixteenth Corps, and General W. T. Sherman’s own corps, all under command of General Sherman, were ordered by General Grant to pursue the retreating enemy. This movement began as early as the evening of the 4th of July, but the Brigade of Colonel Christ did not commence to move till the afternoon of the 7th, the Twenty-ninth leaving camp at two o’clock in the afternoon. Toward nightfall the Big Black was reached, the men crossing the river on a floating bridge which had been constructed by the advance forces. The march was continued for into the night, no halt being made till twelve o’clock. The day had been severely hot, and a large number of the men were left beside the road, where they had fallen, stunned and bewildered, by the overpowering rays of the sun. When the night came on, it began to rain, and for a space of two hours the overcharged clouds poured torrents of water upon the soldiers, who were toiling along over the muddy roads so faint from exhaustion that they could scarcely drag one foot after the other. As soon as the haltwas made, fires were kindled, and the men contrived to dry their clothing and steep a little coffee, the solace of the soldier. That was a wet and intensely uncomfortable bivouac; there was no recourse left the men but to spread their rubber blankets upon the flooded earth, and, lying down upon them, cover themselves with the half of a shelter-tent. They had barely fallen asleep when the storm broke out afresh, and the rain came down upon them in great sheets. Sleep was wholly banished, and huddling around the smouldering fires, the “poor boys” thus passed the balance of that gloomy night. The day which followed this was also very hot, and the officers having learned that the troops could not endure the sun, wisely concluded to allow them to remain quiet till near nightfall. At four o’clock,P. M., the order came to break camp, and a long march was performed, the Brigade marching till one o’clock on the morning of the 9th. On the 9th, the line was formed as early as six o’clock in the morning; but the men were not hurried through the day, being allowed to make frequent but brief halts. The troops halted at nine o’clock in the evening near the plantation of Jefferson Davis, where the regiment was ordered on guard for the remainder of the night.
A part of the regiment on this occasion was posted very near the house of Davis, and though the men were led by curiosity to visit it, yet they refrained from destroying the property of this prominent traitor, or committing any acts unbecoming a regiment of Massachusetts soldiers. As early as seven o’clock on the following morning, the men having had no sleep during the preceding night, and scarcely any for three consecutive nights, the regiment was ordered to start. At two o’clock that afternoon the rear guard of the retreating enemy was suddenly encountered, a line of battle was quickly formed, and slight skirmishing ensued; but the Twenty-ninth, though very near the front, did not become engaged. Toward evening the Confederates retreated, and our troops started in pursuit, the Brigade proceeding only about two miles, when it halted for the night on the plantation of Mr. Hardeman, on the line of the Mississippi Central Railroad.
Early the next morning, while the regiments were resting, the order was given for the Brigade to go to the front, takingposition on a ridge of land upon which stood the State Lunatic Asylum, about five miles from Jackson. On the previous day, the enemy had occupied this place, but were driven from it by the First Division under General Welch. The Confederates on the 11th held another line of works a little nearer the city of Jackson, but within easy range of this ridge; the place was thickly wooded, and the Brigade lay concealed among the trees during the day, the Twenty-ninth supporting Captain Edward’s Rhode Island Battery, which did but little firing, however.
When it grew dark, shovels were called into requisition, and every man in the Brigade was set to work throwing up entrenchments, laboring till daylight the next morning; but our men were not to be allowed to enjoy the fruits of their night’s labor, for in the early morning, they were ordered out of the works, up to the extreme front, in support of our skirmish line. Fortunately they were not obliged to endure the scorching rays of the sun, but found shelter in a piece of woods; it was only a shelter from the sun, however, for the enemy, knowing our position, poured into the woods a continuous fire of shell, canister, and spherical case during the whole of the two days that the regiment was here. The other regiments in the Brigade suffered more or less loss, but the Twenty-ninth escaped without a single casualty. In addition to the storm of larger missiles, many of the musket-balls fired from the enemy’s lines found their way into the woods, and so severe was the fire, that nearly every tree along our line bore the marks of the leaden tempest. Many of our comrades had narrow escapes from death and wounds, one soldier in Company K especially, a ball passing through his tin dipper, upon which he was resting his head.
On the morning of the 11th, the Brigade was relieved and ordered to the rear, resuming its former position near the lunatic asylum; but in the afternoon of the same day it was again ordered forward, and again supported Captain Edward’s battery. Here it remained till the morning of the 16th, when an advance of the whole line was made, the Twenty-ninth passing up under a heavy fire to within forty rods of the enemy’s works, bristling with cannon, the right of the regiment going into the rifle-pits. Once in the pits, therewas no such thing as leaving them while it was daylight, and here the “boys” spent the day, constantly engaged with the enemy’s sharpshooters. Though considerably exposed, there was but one casualty during the day, Private John Scully of Company A being instantly killed, the ball penetrating his brain. The regiment in this position held the extreme left of the picket line of our army, its right resting in the rifle-pits, and its left in dense woods, retired so as to form nearly a half-circle.
The night of the 16th was dark, and hence favorable for secret movements by both besiegers and besieged. About nine o’clock, unusual noises were heard within the enemy’s lines, resembling the rattling of wheels. Colonel Barnes became anxious to learn the cause of these noises, and Captain Clarke was requested to use every effort to ascertain what, if any, movement was going on in the enemy’s camp. That officer had no difficulty in carrying out his instructions, for one of his men, a fearless soldier, named David Scully, unhesitatingly consented to undertake the perilous task of approaching the hostile picket line. The ground descended quite rapidly from Clarke’s line towards that of the Confederates. Scully was left to execute his adventure in his own way. Prostrating himself upon the ground, he rolled slowly down the hill, till he approached within a few yards of the enemy’s pickets, and then pausing, overheard their conversation, which was to the effect that their army was retreating, and that they were soon to be relieved. Listening here, Scully heard more distinctly than before, the noises in the enemy’s camp. They were evidently removing their guns from the works; and, beside this, the regular tread of marching men was plainly distinguishable. In due time Scully returned, making this report. About this time, a similar report was brought in by Charles Logue of Company F, who went forward into the woods, very near the enemy, exhibiting great courage. In order to verify the statements of Scully and Logue, Colonel Barnes, with one or more of the captains, advanced some distance beyond our picket line, when they soon became convinced that the whole body of the enemy was moving. Thereupon one of the sergeants was despatched to General Ferrero, who was in commandof the trenches, with information that the enemy was moving in large numbers, and shortly after a lieutenant was sent, with the message that the enemy was abandoning his works and retiring from the city.
The night was intensely dark, and the ground over which these officers were obliged to pass, in delivering their messages, beset with difficulties, being broken, and in some places covered with fallen timber and a thick growth of bushes. But, like faithful soldiers, they persevered till they found General Ferrero, when they delivered their messages. The substance of the reply that was sent back was, “The movements of the enemy are well understood at headquarters. The enemy are not retiring.” The rumbling of the enemy’s trains and the neighing of their horses continued; and the Colonel and his comrades stood at their posts all night, listening to these sounds, which grew fainter and more distant every hour, as the Confederates were slipping out of the grasp of General Sherman, and retiring beyond the Pearl River. When the night was almost gone, a message was received from General Ferrero, that the regiment might move forward in the gray of the morning, if Colonel Barnes thought it advisable.
When the morning came, a flag of truce was seen waving from the enemy’s works, and at the same time the city appeared to be in flames. During the night, General Johnston retired with his whole army, artillery, and baggage, and even the large guns upon his works. As soon as it was fairly day, the whole line was ordered forward, and the regiment entered the city. The works were found to be deserted, and the railroad depot and several public buildings in flames; but the fire was quickly extinguished by our troops, and thus a large portion of the city was doubtless saved from destruction. After the regiment had finished its part of the generous work of subduing the flames, the men were dismissed for a couple of hours, during which time they contrived to “do” Jackson quite thoroughly. The gardens were filled with melons and fruits, but of other and more desirable food there was a small supply. Everything of much value had been removed, and many of the deluded inhabitants had followed in the steps of the retreating army, taking with them theirpersonal effects, thus giving the place the appearance of a deserted town. The negroes had the good sense to stay, and, as was invariably the case, they were overjoyed at the appearance of the Union soldiers, testifying to their happiness in the way peculiar to their race.
In the afternoon of the 17th, the regiment had orders to leave the city, marching back to the ground occupied on the 14th. Here it remained, enjoying much-needed rest, till Monday the 20th. Another severe march was before them, a march needlessly hard; and at an unreasonable hour in the morning of the 20th, the reveille aroused the men from their slumbers.
Before the movement began, an order was issued from headquarters, detailing Colonel Barnes Provost Marshal of the corps, and the whole of the regiment as provost guard, with orders to move in the rear of the corps, and to keep everything—men, horses, and wagons—in front. This was the hardest duty the regiment ever performed in the same number of days. For some reason, the march was a forced one; the weather was of the same tropical character that it had been during the three weeks previous, and water not only scarce, but of poor quality. The story among the men was, that the corps was racing with another, the Sixteenth (?); but the more probable statement is, that the corps reaching Vicksburg first would take the transports to go North, there being only a sufficient number of steamers for the transportation of a single corps. The imperative orders given to Colonel Barnes to prevent straggling, required constant watchfulness and almost superhuman efforts, not only on his part, but on the part of his brother officers and the men. Many soldiers gave out, from the combined effects of over-exertion and the enervating influence of the weather. On the second day out, matters in this respect became so bad, that it became necessary to impress into the service, ox-carts, horses, and vehicles of all descriptions which could be found about the country, and use them for the conveyance of the invalids, many of whom had received fatal sunstrokes. The spectacle which the corps presented on the road was wholly unbecoming a victorious army: nearly every regiment had lost even the semblance of an organized body; everybody was stragglingalong the roads, some riding in carts, and others mounted upon horses and mules, while miles in the rear of this mob was the gallant old Twenty-ninth Regiment, driving the crowd before them. Violent menaces, and sometimes absolute force, were required to keep the stragglers in motion.
For want of ambulances, nearly all the wounded in the battles and skirmishes before Jackson were carried the whole distance from the latter city to Vicksburg on litters or stretchers by details of men. To protect these unfortunate soldiers from the sun, hoods made of pieces of tent cloth were placed about their heads, and green boughs arranged at the sides of the litters.
A large number of disabled horses and mules were left about the country, in the track of Johnston’s retreat, and these were systematically gathered up by General Sherman, when he returned from Jackson, and driven along to the various landings in the vicinity of Vicksburg and Milldale, where, together with the horses and other animals captured by the soldiers on the march, they were delivered up to the quartermasters. Nearly every company of the Twenty-ninth had a large number of saddle and pack animals, which they had ridden and used for the conveyance of their baggage during the march. Company A had some twenty horses and mules, and Company G nearly as many, when they returned to Milldale, having, as they swept along the stragglers of the column, as the extreme rear guard, collected these animals, as well as the jaded and tired-out men, and their work was much lightened by these mounts. As the rear guard approached the Big Black, the soldiers on foot were sent forward into camp, and then about thirty or forty mounted men came in together, most of the latter being men who had fallen out or got foot-sore, and had been picked up and mounted to keep them along with the army.
When one of these motley crowds came in, the commander of the regiment, who was somewhat indignant at the appearance of the thing, hailed the captain in command, “I should like to know, sir, what this means; what sort of a command is this for an infantry officer?” “Irregular mounted infantry, I should think,” replied the leader, as he looked at his crew.
It was on this march that Captain Richardson’s man, nicknamed“French Joe,” came to the conclusion that his captain’s mess kit might just as well be carried by a mule as by Joseph, and, in fact, that the mule might carry “Joe” too, and took one of the mules for this purpose. He had only his belt and some old scraps of rope for a tackling; but this he thought might serve well enough. He contrived a pad out of his own and the Captain’s blankets, and, warned by the example of John Gilpin, he attempted to balance his load and to tie it securely to the sides of the mule, which were well festooned with pots, pans, gridirons, camp kettles, and tin dippers, giving the animal the appearance of the “hawker’s” donkey. After all this varied assortment of wares had been piled upon the animal, Joe kindly allowed a knapsack or two to be strapped on behind, and then mounted, guiding the mule with a rope halter. He had not proceeded far before some of the knots began to slip, for Joe was not a sailor, nor was he a very skilful disposer of weights. Very soon one of the knapsack straps got loose and insinuated itself on the inside of the mule’s hind leg. It tickled him—he kicked. This displaced a camp kettle, which slipped under his belly—he “buck-jumped,” and unseated Joe. Then all the load shifted, the most of it getting under the beast’s belly. He curveted and pranced, he reared and kicked, and cleared the road right and left for more than a mile. The men scattered on every side, for the mule was in earnest, and was no respecter of persons, kicking just as viciously at the officers as at the men. Captain Richardson had no dinner that day, save what he got through the kindness of others; for his coffee, hard bread, and bacon, tin plates and cups, flour, butter, and roasting corn—all the materials of many a savory feast—lay in the dust.
On the 22d, the Ninth Corps reached the Big Black River. General Parke and his division commanders now deemed it impossible, as it certainty was disgraceful, for the corps to continue to march in this manner. The different regiments were here, on the banks of the river, gathered together, and forced to resume their organization. One whole day was spent in this work, during which the men were permitted to rest.
Toward evening of the 22d, the corps moved out of camp, and marching slowly, crossed the Big Black on a pontoonbridge, in the midst of a pouring rain; the troops camped near the river for the night, and the next morning started for Milldale. The regiment was the last to arrive, in consequence of its peculiar duty, and by being the last, lost the first chance to go on board the transports, and was thus forced to remain here till the 12th of August.
During the campaign now closed, the roll of the regiment’s dead had been somewhat increased; and this, with a few exceptions, had been occasioned by disease contracted in the sickly regions of the Yazoo and Vicksburg. Private John Scully of Company A, a faithful soldier, was the first to fall in the campaign, having been killed by a bullet while bravely doing his duty in the rifle-pits before Jackson, July 16. Second Lieutenant Horace A. Jenks of Company E came next, dying of malarial fever, July 26. Lieutenant Jenks had at one time been a sergeant in his company, and was promoted to be second lieutenant for his good soldierly qualities. His death was mourned by all the members of the regiment. First Lieutenant Ezra Ripley of Company B, who died of fever at Helena, Ark., July 28, was a member of the Middlesex Bar before entering the service. He was a gentleman of liberal culture and rarest qualities of both heart and mind. No sacrifice for his country was too great in his estimation, and though not of a robust constitution, yet he never shrank from any exposure or hardship. He performed the terrible march to Jackson, but the seeds of disease sown during those days, already described, soon ripened into death. Private Lyford Gilman of Company B also died of disease at Vicksburg, August 2. He was also a victim of the exhaustive march.
When the Ninth Corps was about to leave Vicksburg, General Grant, desirous of recognizing its services in the late campaign, issued the following order:—
“Headquarters Department of the Tennessee,}“Vicksburg, Miss., July 31, 1863.}[EXTRACT.]“Special Orders, No. 207.“In returning the Ninth Corps to its former command, it is with pleasure that the general commanding acknowledges its valuable services in the campaign just closed.“Arriving at Vicksburg opportunely, taking position to hold at bayJohnston’s army, then threatening the forces investing the city, it was ready and eager to assume the aggressive at any moment.“After the fall of Vicksburg, it formed a part of the army which drove Johnston from his position near the Big Black River, into his entrenchments at Jackson, and after a siege of eight days, compelled him to fly in disorder from the Mississippi Valley.“The endurance, valor, and general good conduct of the Ninth Corps are admired by all; and its valuable co-operation in achieving the final triumph of the campaign is gratefully acknowledged by the Army of the Tennessee.“Major-General Parke will cause the different regiments and batteries of his command to inscribe upon their banners and guidons, ‘Vicksburg’ and ‘Jackson.’“By order of“Major-General U. S. Grant.“P. S. Bowen,A. A. A. G.”
“Headquarters Department of the Tennessee,}“Vicksburg, Miss., July 31, 1863.}
[EXTRACT.]
“Special Orders, No. 207.
“In returning the Ninth Corps to its former command, it is with pleasure that the general commanding acknowledges its valuable services in the campaign just closed.
“Arriving at Vicksburg opportunely, taking position to hold at bayJohnston’s army, then threatening the forces investing the city, it was ready and eager to assume the aggressive at any moment.
“After the fall of Vicksburg, it formed a part of the army which drove Johnston from his position near the Big Black River, into his entrenchments at Jackson, and after a siege of eight days, compelled him to fly in disorder from the Mississippi Valley.
“The endurance, valor, and general good conduct of the Ninth Corps are admired by all; and its valuable co-operation in achieving the final triumph of the campaign is gratefully acknowledged by the Army of the Tennessee.
“Major-General Parke will cause the different regiments and batteries of his command to inscribe upon their banners and guidons, ‘Vicksburg’ and ‘Jackson.’
“By order of“Major-General U. S. Grant.
“P. S. Bowen,A. A. A. G.”
The time spent at Milldale, after the return from Jackson, was occupied by the ordinary duties of camp life. The weather continued very warm, and the destructive effects of the campaign now became manifest. Deaths were very frequent among the troops here during this time, burial parties were almost constantly engaged, and the funeral notes of the fife and drum could be heard nearly every hour in the day. None save the strongest came out of that campaign in sound health.
On the 12th of August, the regiment embarked on the steamer “Catahoula,” one of the slowest boats on the river, to go North; the steamer left Milldale without a sufficient supply of fuel, and accordingly frequent stoppages on the route, to gather wood, became necessary. The trip to Cairo, including one day spent at Memphis, occupied eight days, the boat reaching its destination on the 20th.
At midnight on the 20th, the regiment took the cars for Cincinnati, reaching that city on the afternoon of Sunday the 23d, and receiving the same kind treatment as on its two former visits.
At night, the regiment left the city, crossed the Ohio to Covington, Ky., and went into camp on the outskirts of the town, and remained here till the 27th. At this time, probably nearly half of all the members of the regiment were on the sick-list, and unable to do duty. In the course of a few days they had come from the tropical climate of the South intothe cool bracing air of the West, and now the chills and fever broke out among them to an alarming extent.
While here, Colonel Barnes left the regiment on a furlough to his home in Massachusetts; he was very sick from the effects of a malarial fever and overwork; from the eighteenth day of May, 1861, till he was seized with this sickness, he had never been off duty, for any cause, a day,—a fact that is not only remarkable, but, considering the great hardships to which he had been subjected, one that shows him to have been possessed of an iron constitution.
The author, in the preparation of this work, has endeavored, as far as possible, to avoid the diary form of narrative, because he is aware that such does not interest the general reader; but the record of the regiment would be incomplete if it did not give somewhat in detail the events of long and memorable marches, and the various localities visited by it.
The march from Covington, Ky., into East Tennessee, which we are about to describe, was one of the longest which the regiment ever performed, and, for the reasons stated, we shall give a very particular account of it. On the 27th, it broke camp, under the command of Major Chipman, went to the railroad station in Covington, took the cars for Nicholasville, arrived there at seven o’clock the next morning, and camped near the depot. On the 29th, Colonel Pierce, who had for several months been absent on special duty in Massachusetts, joined the regiment and assumed command, and on the same day a march on the Lancaster pike of about four miles was performed.
August 31. The regiment was mustered for pay; Colonel Pierce ordered to the command of the Brigade; the Second Michigan Infantry joined the Brigade, and Major Chipman again took command of the regiment.
September 1. Reveille at four o’clock,A. M.Started for Crab Orchard, in Lincoln County; spent the night for the third time at Camp Dick Robinson.
September 2. Reveille at an early hour; marched all day; camped near Lancaster.
September 3. Another early start. Reached Crab Orchard, a place of five hundred inhabitants, and abounding with mineral springs. Here and at Nicholasville convalescentcamps were established, and during the time which the regiment remained at these places, a very large number of its members went into the hospitals, where not a few of them subsequently died.
September 10. The Brigade left Crab Orchard, and had a hard march of about fourteen miles, and went into camp at a place called Mount Vernon. The road for a considerable portion of the way was very rough and mountainous, being so steep in some places that the horsemen were obliged to dismount and lead their animals. The men were in light marching order, having left the most of their extra clothing at Crab Orchard, and had eight days’ rations served out to them, being thus prepared for a long march.
September 11. The reveille sounded at half-past three o’clock in the morning, and at half-past four the column was in motion. At night, after a very fatiguing march, the camp was formed near Wild Cat Mountain, Kentucky.
September 12. The men were routed out early in the morning, and the day’s march began at five o’clock, but the road was good all day. The weather, which had been fine ever since the march began, became stormy at the end of this day, and at night it rained hard. The camp was formed at London, Laurel County, Ky. On this march the regiment passed over the battle-field of Mill Spring, where the notorious Zollicoffer was killed.
September 13 was Sunday. The men were paid off and allowed to rest all day. Since this famous march began, the Brigade had passed through and into three counties; namely, Gerrard, Rock Castle, and Laurel. The country through which they had travelled was thinly populated, and with the exception of a few wild fruits and nuts which they found on the journey, the men were obliged to subsist upon their rations. It has been stated, that the wild fruits which the men ate on this march proved very beneficial to their health, and resulted in curing them of the complaints they had contracted in the sickly swamps of the Yazoo.
September 14. The march was resumed at five o’clock in the morning, and at night a halt was made at Laurel Spring.
September 15. Only a part of the day was occupied bymarching, a halt being made at the town of Barboursville, in Knox County, Ky.
September 16. Marched from Barboursville to Flat Lick; a long march, pausing till the 19th.
September 19. A distance of about ten miles was travelled this day; the camp was formed at Log Mountain. The column was nearing the far-famed Cumberland Gap, and the roads were growing rougher and more broken at every advance in that direction. The night was very cold, water froze, and the crops of tobacco, sugar-cane, and cotton in that region nearly all destroyed. When the sun rose the next morning, it revealed the earth white with frost.
September 20. At ten o’clock in the morning, the Brigade reached Cumberland Gap, and entered the State of Tennessee. After passing into this gap, which was defended by a small force of infantry and cavalry, the road became more and more elevated, till at last it reached the summits of the mountains. The view from these heights well paid the men for all their toil in climbing their rugged and broken sides. In the far distance, ridge after ridge seemed to rise up toward the heavens, the highest actually invading the clouds, which, with a beautiful curtain of blue, hid from sight the lofty peaks. The night was spent in the mountains near the gap.
September 21. Sycamore, Tenn. Camped for the night. An inquiry having been made at one of the mountain huts, regarding the distance between this place and Tazewell, the answer was, “Two rises to go up and two rises to go down and a right smart plain.”
September 22. Morristown, Tenn. Here the Brigade remained till the 24th.
September 24. Marched to New Market.
September 25. Marched to Holston River and forded it.
September 26. Entered the city of Knoxville.
The distance marched between the first of September and 26th was something over two hundred miles. The march over the mountains has furnished the theme of many interesting conversations among the men who performed it. The hardships of the road were manifold and serious. It was enough to be compelled to climb day after day the rugged and precipitous path along the side of these mountains; itwas enough, indeed, to bivouac on their cold and barren summits, with only a single woollen blanket to protect the foot-sore soldier from the searching and chilling night-air; but when we add to these discomforts, that of intense and unsatisfied hunger, which was actually endured during the entire march, the measure of the sufferings of our comrades seems full to overflowing. They endured these sufferings and hardships, however, for a good purpose. Together with the troops which had gone on before them, they had wrought the long-prayed-for deliverance of East Tennessee. On the 3d of this month, General Burnside, together with the Twenty-third Corps and other troops, had entered the city of Knoxville, the Confederate General Buckner retiring from the place with his army and retreating toward Chattanooga.
The people of this region had long suffered from rebel rule, and the barbarities which had been practised upon them have never been fully related to the world. Some had been imprisoned, others tortured, and others murdered. Their property had been mercilessly confiscated, and not a few had been forced to perform military duty in the service of a cause that they loathed and hated. When the army of General Burnside appeared bearing the old flag, and the colors of the cruel foe departed in haste and confusion, the loyal people were overwhelmed with joy. The flag of the Union, which had been carefully hid under carpets, concealed in cellars and between mattresses, to save its owners from persecution, was now brought forth from its hiding-places, and flaunted on every hand; from windows and liberty-poles, it floated to the breeze.
A considerable part of General Burnside’s army was composed of loyal Tennesseeans, who had been forced to fly into Kentucky during the continuance of the enemy’s rule. These native troops, among which was the cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, son of the famous parson, “were kept constantly in advance, and were received with expressions of the profoundest gratitude by the people. There were many thrilling scenes of the meeting of our Tennessee soldiers with their families, from whom they had so long been separated. The East Tennesseeans were so glad to see our soldiers, that they cooked everything they had and gave it tothem freely, not asking pay, and apparently not thinking of it. Women stood by the roadside with pails of water, and displayed Union flags. The wonder was, where all the stars and stripes came from. Knoxville was radiant with flags. At one point on the road from Kingston to Knoxville seventy women and girls stood by the roadside waving Union flags and shouting, ‘Hurrah for the Union.’ Old ladies rushed out of their houses and wanted to see General Burnside and shake hands with him, and cried, ‘Welcome, General Burnside, to East Tennessee.’”41
These constitute but a small part of all the demonstrations of loyalty by this intensely loyal people, and this brief account of their wrongs but a trifling part of the manifold abuses heaped upon them by a merciless and savage soldiery,—abuses and wrongs of the same barbarous nature as those perpetrated at Andersonville and Belle Isle, forming as they do the saddest chapter in the history of the war. It should be among the proudest boasts of the people of Massachusetts, that in the persons of her soldiers of the Twenty-first, Twenty-ninth, Thirty-fifth, and Thirty-sixth regiments, she helped deliver a people loyal to the old flag from a thraldom such as has been imperfectly depicted in this chapter,—a thraldom worse than death itself.
Battles of Blue Springs, Hough’s Ferry, and Campbell’s Station—Siege of Knoxville—The Sufferings of the Men—Battle of Fort Sanders—Gallant Conduct of the Regiment—It Captures Two Battle-flags—The Siege Raised—General Sherman Re-enforces Burnside.
During the early part of October, a portion of the Ninth Corps under General Potter, and a large body of cavalry under General Shakleford, were sent up the valley some fifty miles in the direction of Morristown, Jefferson County. A force of the enemy had crossed into Eastern Tennessee from Virginia, and were threatening our communications with Cumberland Gap. This movement on the part of the Federals was made for the purpose of clearing the enemy away from the flank of our army.
On the 8th of October, the regiment with its brigade was ordered forward from Knoxville to join the rest of the corps, and on the night of the 9th halted at Bull’s Gap, a pass in the mountains near the line between Jefferson and Green counties.
The movement of the enemy was a very important one; they had reached and occupied Greenville, and moved out beyond as for as Blue Springs. Foster’s brigade of cavalry and mounted infantry was sent out from Knoxville, up the valley of the French Broad River, to turn the right of the enemy and get upon his rear, which movement was accomplished on the 9th. Foster got himself into position, and on the 10th, General Custer with his mounted infantry came up with the enemy at Blue Springs, and began to skirmish. Ferrero’s division of twelve small regiments, of which the Twenty-ninth was one, arrived about noon, and went into position a half-mile from the field, where they had a good view of the skirmish for nearly half an hour. At the end ofthis time, two brigades of the division—namely, Humphrey’s and Christ’s—were sent forward.
The enemy had a battery well supported on the left of the main road leading to Greenville, on a high hill. They had thrown forward their first line and skirmishers well advanced to a distance of perhaps three-quarters of a mile from their battery, across the road and across a rivulet, and had advanced another body of skirmishers through a corn-field to the crest of a hill about three hundred yards from where the Twenty-ninth was lying. Custer’s men had slowly retired before the Confederates, and passed to our rear, when the order came for our two brigades to charge. The men rose to their feet and went forward at a rapid run, with arms aport and bayonets fixed, up the hill. The enemy, closely followed by our men, fell back rapidly down the hill, across the rivulet, into and through a belt of woods, where the pursuit ended by the direct orders of our generals. Here Colonel Christ re-formed his Brigade, to carry one of the Confederate batteries that had begun to fire shell into our lines. The enemy, seeing the preparations for a charge, wheeled their guns about and fled; and at this stage in the affair, it became so dark that all further hostilities ceased. Captain Leach, then sixty-three years of age, led his company on this charge; and when the rivulet was reached, which was some eight feet wide, sprang into it and scrambled up the opposite bank as actively as the youngest of his men, refusing the proffered assistance of Major Chipman, who was leading the regiment.
Captains Leach and Clarke messed together; their negro servants, Bob and Isaac, were left in the rear of the field, where this fight had occurred, with their rations and baggage, and when the battle was over, were sought to prepare supper; but the darkies could not be found,—neither the rations nor baggage. Upon investigation, it appeared that a rumor had spread to the rear that both these officers had been killed in the fight. The negroes had of course heard of it, and, considering themselves absolved from all further obligations as servants, had gone back towards Bull’s Gap, taking the effects of the officers with them, where at night they held a sort of barbecue, feasted on the rations, and concluded their entertainment with an auction sale of the baggage. Theserecreant negroes were found the next morning and subjected to a severe questioning. “Where are our rations?” “Where’s the coffee-pot?” “What has become of our blankets?” Bob acted as spokesman: “De rations and blankets is done gone; de coffee-pot is done gone, too,—dey’s stole.” This ended the examination, and these two unfortunate captains had short rations and hard fare for the rest of the march. The enemy retired during the night, and soon after daylight our army started in pursuit. After marching a mile or two, the infantry halted, and Shakleford’s brigade of mounted men, with several horse batteries, swept by the head of the column, and then the infantry marched again. The most annoying information came from the farmers along the road. They scarcely knew which were our enemy,—the troops that had passed the night before, or the mounted column of Shakleford,—and these were some of the answers they gave in reply to questions of the whereabouts of the Confederates: “They are just ahead”; “Not far from an hour ago, they went by”; “A good gallop off”; and so forth.
When our troops reached Greenville, they learned to their surprise that the enemy had passed through there six hours before, and that they had a sharp engagement with General Foster’s men a few miles out at Henderson’s. The tired troops pressed on; at Henderson’s, they saw some signs of a fight, but the bridge was intact. General Foster had refrained from destroying it, and the enemy had neglected to do so. Toward night the regiment went into camp at Rheatown, twenty-one miles from Blue Springs. Shakleford and Foster followed the enemy into Virginia, inflicting upon them great injury, and, upon returning, took up the line of the Watauga, to cover the passes from Virginia into East Tennessee.
One of the abandoned wagons of the Confederates, found near Rheatown, furnished our regiment with a liberal supply of excellent bread and some other food. At this place our troops had two full days’ rest, and it was much needed, for the men had performed a forced march hither, and in the course of it had an encounter with the enemy.
At the close of the second day, the columns were turned towards Bull’s Gap, making the distance by easy marches, andupon arriving there the regiment took the cars, but had proceeded but a short distance when an accident rendered it necessary for them to march six miles to Morristown, at which place they again took the cars and went to Knoxville, reaching there on the 10th of October.
While the Confederates held East Tennessee, a merciless conscription had been enforced by them, to avoid which many of the male population had abandoned their homes and taken refuge in the deep forests, or fled into Kentucky. After the country had been occupied by Burnside, many of these loyal people returned to their homes, and signified their willingness to enlist in the Federal army. Burnside issued an order encouraging such enlistments, and especially into the veteran regiments of the Ninth Corps, which had been greatly depleted by their recent campaigns. Shortly after the Twenty-ninth returned to Knoxville, Captain Clarke and Lieutenant Atherton were detailed for this recruiting service, and ordered to station themselves at Rheatown, where they spent several weeks, and secured a number of recruits. On the 11th of November, a force of Confederates again invaded Tennessee from Virginia, and evading the left of our army on the Watauga, attacked with about 3,500 cavalry our post at Rogersville, and captured its small garrison. This, and other hostile movements at various points, rendered necessary the evacuation of Rheatown, and the drawing in of all our forces in that part of the State, nearer Knoxville. Our recruiting party, therefore, returned to the latter place, and went on after their regiment, which, in the meantime, had gone out to Lenoir’s Station.
A serious invasion of East Tennessee, by General Longstreet, had already begun. That officer, with a large force, had early in November been detached from Bragg’s army, in the vicinity of Chattanooga, and was now marching up the valley towards Knoxville. On the 20th of October, the Ninth Corps left Knoxville and went to Campbell’s Station, fifteen miles southwest of the city, on the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad; on the 21st, it moved down the railroad to Lenoir’s Station, and remained there, with the exception of a few days, till the 14th of November. On the night of the 10th of November, Longstreet made his appearance on thesouth side of the Holston River, at Hough’s Ferry, about six miles below Loudon, and where was stationed General White, with one division of the Twenty-third Corps. November the 14th, early in the morning. General Potter, in a hard rain-storm, started with the whole of the Ninth Corps to re-enforce General White. The Twenty-ninth with its brigade (Christ’s) was in advance, and toward noon arrived at a point five miles from the ferry, when rapid and heavy firing was distinctly heard. Now the clouds parted and the storm slackened, but the roads were as heavy and broken as before, making it exceedingly difficult to get the artillery along, and rendering the progress of the troops very slow. It was nearly dark when the Brigade reached the ferry; by this time the battle there had nearly ceased, nothing save an occasional musket-shot indicating the near presence of the enemy. Immediately upon its arrival, the regiment was ordered to the right of the line, marched nearly two miles through a thick woods, and formed in line of battle within one hundred yards of that of the enemy. The night soon came on, and early in the evening the storm broke out again with increased fury; the wind blew with the force of a tornado; the trees swayed to and fro in the blast, threatening to fall upon the heads of the men, who stood to arms all night without fires.
Very early the next morning (15th), when the men were expecting to march against the enemy, the order came to fall back, and taking the same track by which it had entered the gloomy forest, the Brigade picked its way back to the place where it had first halted the night before. All along the way brightly-burning camp-fires were passed, but no troops were seen; these had already left, and were well under way towards Lenoir’s. At noon the regiment reached the latter place. The men had tasted no food for several hours, and were nearly worn out with fatigue; during the march here, they had managed to pluck a few ears of corn from the fields by the roadside, and as soon as a pause was made and the arms stacked, the place was ablaze with fires; every man at once went to work making coffee and preparing little messes for dinner. Happily the poor, hungry men had time to finish their meal, but they had barely finished it when they were ordered under arms. The enemy had just then appeared ahalf-mile away on the Kingston Road, and thither the Brigade was hurried at the double-quick. This movement of the Confederates was at once checked, and the rest of the day passed without any further hostile demonstrations, except a night attack upon our pickets.
The morning of the 16th was sharp and cold; as early as two o’clock the regiment was ordered to march. The roads that had been muddy the day before were now frozen; the artillery horses were pinched with cold and hunger, and quite unable to drag the heavy cannon. It was resolved to sacrifice a portion of the baggage train, which, to the number of many wagons, was parked at Lenoir’s. The horses and mules were detached and harnessed into the guns; the spokes of the wagon-wheels were hacked, and, with their contents, set on fire,—not, however, till the soldiers had replenished their haversacks with a goodly quantity of smoked pork, coffee, sugar, and hard bread.
The whole corps was in full retreat soon after daylight, and the enemy at once began the pursuit, harassing our rear guard continually. The road from Lenoir’s Station to Knoxville intersects at Campbell’s with the road from Kingston, and Longstreet had detached a column on his left to seize the junction of these roads. The possession of Campbell’s Station was, therefore, of great moment to Burnside, for should the enemy arrive there before him, his retreat to Knoxville would surely be cut off. A division of troops under Hartranft, by rapid marching, succeeded, in the early part of the forenoon, in reaching Campbell’s, and going out on the Kingston Road deployed across it, his left on the Loudon Road, along which our army and trains were moving. Hartranft was just fifteen minutes ahead of the enemy; he had only time to form his line, when the Confederate column appeared hurrying up the Kingston Road. A sharp engagement ensued; but the enemy was foiled in his attempt, and driven back in confusion. Soon after, all our trains passed this dangerous point in safety, and moved on to Knoxville. At about noon, the rest of the army came up, and went into position on “a low range of hills about a half-mile from the cross-roads.” The Ninth Corps was posted on the right of the field, which was nearly a mile broad, and extended a half-mile along themain road, and was bordered by heavy woods, passable for infantry. Christ’s brigade was on the right of the corps, and the Twenty-ninth on the right of the Brigade, fifty yards from the woods in front, while its right flank actually touched them.
The lines had been formed but a short time, when the blue uniforms of our rear guard were seen, and finally our skirmishers,—the latter crossing the fields, creeping along the fences, and coming up the road, guns in hand, occasionally pausing to load and fire. Now and then a soldier in gray showed himself on the edge of the woods, but he would soon dart back out of sight. Colonel Pierce, now in command of the regiment, had orders to cover his front and flank with skirmishers, and Companies A and I, under Captain Clarke and Lieutenant Williams, were detailed for this purpose. The companies had proceeded but a short distance into the woods, when they came upon the enemy, who were approaching stealthily from tree to tree, evidently attempting what Colonel Christ had feared; namely, to flank the Brigade. A brisk fire began at once, but our men kept their line intact, and maintained perfect coolness. After the lapse of about an hour, the officers on the skirmish line discovered that the enemy were gradually overlapping the right of the Brigade, and promptly informed Colonel Christ of the fact. The skirmishers were ordered to come in at once, and the Brigade changed front and began to fall back. This movement was not made a moment too soon, for a dense mass of the enemy’s infantry immediately poured out of the woods in the rear of the retreating Brigade; while his flanking party, which had not yet lapped over our old position, also at the same moment, emerged from the woods, and, with loud yells, joined in the pursuit, firing an occasional shot, and with terrible oaths, shouting to our men to surrender and lay down their arms.
Our men, loading as they marched, halted by files, turned about and fired, and again took their places in the ranks. At last, the regiment, which was in the rear, reached a sunken road, and, leaping into it, moved rapidly to the left of our lines; while over the heads of the men, now fully protected by the high bank, played the cannon of our reserve batteries, at last free to fire without endangering the lives of our owntroops. The slaughter wrought upon the pursuing enemy is described as terrible; and as the Twenty-ninth came up the hill, gaining the plateau of the Knoxville side, Generals Burnside and Ferrero, standing on either side of the road, clapped their hands as it filed proudly between them.
It was now, perhaps, five o’clock in the afternoon, and the battle degenerated into an artillery duel on our side, varied by the enemy with occasional charges, by which they took nothing but disaster. One by one, as it grew dark, the batteries retired, and after nightfall the Brigade moved off and took up its weary march for Knoxville, where it arrived at about three o’clock the next morning, and lay down for a few brief hours to rest upon the bleak hillside near Fort Sanders.
During this battle, Charles H. Dwinnell of Company A, a worthy comrade and brave soldier, was killed, and William O’Conner of Company H was captured. Dwinnell was shot through the brain by a sharpshooter stationed in a tall pine. The ball was probably aimed at Captain Clarke, who was quite conspicuous at the time; the sharpshooter was instantly marked and shot by two of Dwinnell’s comrades, who fired simultaneously, the enemy’s body being seen to fall out of the tree.
The siege of the city commenced on the 17th, and progressed rather gradually, beginning on the west and northwest, and finally extending around the entire city, from river to river. As the work of investing the place continued, our pickets were constantly pressed in close upon the main works, so that by the 29th of November we scarcely held more than the slope of the plateau crowned by our main fortifications, and in some cases not even that.
To the right of Fort Sanders, named after a brilliant cavalry general who was killed early in the siege, and west of the city, Humphrey’s and Christ’s brigades picketed one side of the railroad cut, and the enemy the other.
On one occasion, before the pickets were drawn in, a little squad of the Twenty-ninth assaulted a house in front of them, and driving away the enemy’s pickets there stationed, captured it, and brought in the supplies, which consisted of a small sack of meal, a few pounds of bacon, a box of tobacco, an eight-gallon keg of blackberry brandy, and two boxes ofcartridges. The enemy re-formed and recaptured the house, but our men brought their booty safely into camp. There was meal enough to give each man in the company to which these adventurers belonged, a dish of hasty-pudding, and tobacco enough to furnish every man in the regiment with a good-sized piece. The brandy and cartridges were accounted for during the night by some of the wildest picket-firing that occurred during the siege. There was by no means a large supply of food in the city when the siege began, but long before it concluded, all kinds of provisions became extremely scarce.
On the 19th, the Confederates drove in our outer pickets and took possession of the woods. On the evening of the 23d, they attacked our picket line in front of the Brigade, and seemed to be on the point of bringing on a general engagement. The order was given to set fire to a long line of buildings between the two armies. This was done to break the enemy’s lines and unmask their movements, and resulted very successfully. The conflagration that followed was both grand and awful. The dark wintry sky was lighted up by the flames, which roared and crackled with an unearthly sound, casting a broad belt of dazzling light over the fields and into the forests. In the round-house of the railroad, there was stored a large amount of condemned ammunition, and when the flames reached that, there was an explosion that shook the earth, and startled the anxious residents of the city.
The 26th of November was Thanksgiving Day. The men got a full ration of bullets, but only a half-ration of bread.
About midnight of the 28th, the picket line near the river on the southwest was driven in, and could not be re-established by the brigade which furnished it. The line in front of Fort Sanders had also been assailed and taken by the enemy, and about nine o’clock in the evening an order was sent to take the regiment out of the lines and place it in the immediate rear of the fort for special duty; Major Chipman had command. A little later in the evening, Companies A, C, D, and K were detached, and ordered to our lines near the river, where the enemy had a few hours before captured our rifle-pits.
The night had nearly gone, and the first glimmer of day had appeared, when the familiar charging yell of the enemy was heard directly in front of the fort. Our pickets at this point were forced in, and in a moment more a large body of the enemy’s infantry were swarming at the very edge of the ditch. The battalion of the Twenty-ninth, under Chipman, were hurried into the fort, and the four detached companies at once sent for. The latter had a perilous experience in joining their comrades, and though exposed to the fire of the enemy’s cannon, reached the works without the loss of a man, and in ample time to lend a hand in the severe contest which was now well under way. The Confederates, led by fearless officers, crowded the ditch, and crossing it on each other’s shoulders, began to ascend the bank; one of their standard-bearers came running up and planted his colors upon the parapet, in the very faces of Major Chipman’s men; but he had hardly performed his deed of daring, when one of our soldiers shot him through the heart, and he fell forward into the works. Inspired by the example of their color-bearer, a large body of the Confederates, led by a gray-haired old officer (Colonel Thomas of Georgia), with wild shouts made a dash up the bank. All seemed lost; but at this moment Companies A, C, D, and K of the regiment came running into the fort, and ranging themselves along the parapet, opened a deadly fire upon the assaulting party. The gray old leader of the enemy, while waving his sword and shouting to his men to come on, was shot dead. Many of his brave followers suffered the same fate, and the handful of survivors fell hurriedly back into the ditch. At the same instant, like scenes were transpiring all along the works. The Seventy-ninth New York was sharply engaged, and the artillerymen, not being able to use their pieces, busied themselves by tossing among the enemy lighted shell with their fuses cut to a few seconds’ length. Finally a sergeant of one of the batteries, observing a renewed preparation of the enemy to charge up the bank, slewed one of the large guns about so as to make it bear upon the edge of the ditch, and, with a single charge of canister, raked it for a distance of several yards with deadly effect. About this time the assault slackened; but in a few moments another column of the enemy camerushing towards the fort, and with almost sublime courage faced the withering fire of our troops, and large numbers of them gained the bank. The first terrible scenes of the battle were re-enacted; three of the enemy’s standards were planted simultaneously upon the parapet, but they were quickly torn away by our men. The resistance was as desperate as the assault: officers used freely their swords, the men clubbed their muskets, others used their bayonets, and others still axes and the rammers of the cannon. A struggle so severe as this could not be otherwise than of short duration. In a few minutes the enemy’s soldiers began to falter and fall back into the ditch. Seeing this, General Ferrero, who was in command of the fort and closely watching the fight, ordered one company of the Twenty-ninth on the left, and one company of the Second Michigan on the right, to go through the embrasures and charge the disorganized enemy. Sweeping down the ditch, these commands captured about two hundred of the enemy, and drove them into the fort, the little squad of the Twenty-ninth following their captives and bearing triumphantly two battle-flags of the foe; the capturers of which were Sergeant Jeremiah Mahoney of Company A, and Private Joseph S. Manning of Company K, both of whom afterwards received the medals of honor voted by the Congress of the United States.
The fight immediately died away in front of Fort Sanders, and the remnant of the enemy’s charging column shrank back within their lines in dismay and confusion. But on the left, where the Federal rifle-pits had been captured on the afternoon of the 28th, a fierce battle was heard. Hartranft’s division was sharply engaged with the enemy in its efforts to recapture the pits, and the effort was soon successful. The Confederates were everywhere routed, our entire line re-established, and by ten o’clock that Sunday morning quietness had settled down over the whole field. The enemy seemed appalled by the dreadful calamity that had overtaken him,—a calamity, as we shall presently see, that practically ended the siege. Ninety-eight dead bodies were taken out of the fatal ditch from a space of four hundred square feet around the salient. General Humphrey, who commanded the Mississippi brigade, was found dead on the glacis, withintwenty feet of the face of the ditch. Lying among the dead in the moat, in every conceivable condition, were the wounded; and scattered all over the open space in front of the fort, through which telegraph wires had been stretched from stump to stump to impede the movements of the assailants, were scattered hundreds of both dead and wounded, and among them not a few of the enemy’s soldiers unhurt, who, dismayed at the awful storm of shell and grape that poured upon them, had lain prone upon the earth until the battle was over, only too willing to be captured. Nearly five hundred stand of small arms were collected on the field within our picket lines. Pollard states the enemy’s loss in this battle at seven hundred.
The great bravery of this charge entitles those who participated in it to honorable mention. The troops who engaged in this assault “consisted of three brigades of McLaw’s division; that of General Wolford,—the Sixteenth, Eighteenth, and Twenty-fourth Georgia regiments, and Cobb’s and Phillips’s Georgia legions; that of General Humphrey,—the Thirteenth, Seventeenth, Twenty-first, Twenty-second, and Twenty-third Mississippi regiments; and a brigade composed of Generals Anderson’s and Bryant’s brigades, embracing among others, the Palmetto State Guard, the Fifteenth South Carolina Regiment, and the Fifty-first, Fifty-third, and Fifty-ninth Georgia regiments.”42The troops that garrisoned the fort were Benjamin’s United States Battery, Buckley’s Rhode Island Battery, a part of Roemer’s New York Battery, the Seventy-ninth New York Highlanders, and, at the very beginning of the fight, a battalion of the Twenty-ninth under Major Chipman, and before the repulse of the assault on the salient, Captain Clarke’s and the other companies of the regiment already named. When the battle was well advanced, and affairs had assumed a serious aspect, the One Hundredth Pennsylvania was moved up in the rear of the fort, and a few minutes before the close of the fight, the Second Michigan was ordered into the works on the right, one of its companies being detailed to sweep the ditch. Our loss in the fort was eight killed and five wounded, and among the formerwere two members of the Twenty-ninth; namely, Sergeant John F. Smith of Company H, and Corporal Gilbert T. Litchfield of Company K, both most excellent soldiers. The loss of the enemy in this encounter doubtless exceeded greatly that given by Mr. Pollard; one of our officers engaged stating it to be fourteen hundred.
When Longstreet had drawn off his troops from the scene of his defeat, General Burnside kindly directed General Potter to send out a flag of truce, granting the enemy permission to remove his dead and wounded from the field. The flag was courteously received, and for the space of several hours there was a complete cessation of all hostilities. As a reward for its services in this action, the regiment was retained in Fort Sanders as a part of its garrison, and consequently relieved from much severe picket duty, only occasionally going on to the line immediately in front of the fort. But the duties of the fort, while not so arduous as those of the rifle-pits, were very important, and called for the exercise of constant vigilance. By day, one-third of the men were allowed to sleep in camp, one-third to rest in the fort with their belts on, and one-third stood to arms at the parapet; while at night all the men except a camp guard were required to be in the fort, one-half under arms and one-half resting with their belts on. At three o’clock each morning, the whole garrison was called up and stood to arms till six o’clock. One-half of the officers could be in camp by day, one-fourth must be at the parapet, and the remainder at rest in the works; and at three o’clock in the morning, all the officers were ordered to stand to arms with their men.
The casual mention, in the course of this chapter, of the telegraph wires which were stretched over the field in front of the fort, leads the author to speak of another device employed by our engineers who constructed these fortifications,—a defensive preparation, as ingenious in its nature as it was destructive in its results. The whole open space within our lines, directly in front of the fort, had been carefully plowed, with furrows leading generally to the work, not parallel, but converging towards a point opposite the main battery. It is natural for men when passing over broken ground to avoid the ridges and seek the smooth places andhollows. The furrows were quite wide and well defined, and when the enemy’s column charged in the gray of the morning, his men coming suddenly upon the plowed ground, were thrown into great confusion. They took to the furrows, as was expected, and by the time they had reached the point where the furrows converged, the whole of the first battle line, consisting of a brigade, was huddled together in a disorganized mass, and in this condition received the concentrated fire of every gun on the works, which poured into them several very destructive charges of canister and grape.
At midnight on the 4th of December, as our men in Fort Sanders were standing to arms, something of an unusual nature was observed to be going on in the enemy’s camp. Lanterns were seen flitting about in their batteries; night signals were at work, a fixed lantern low down near the ground and a movable one above it bobbing about from right to left. Our pickets all along the siege line were doubled, and the troops in the fort ordered to the parapets. All sorts of speculations were indulged in by our officers and men; some thought the enemy was preparing for another and final assault upon our works, and others that he was retreating.
General Sherman had for some days been marching to the relief of Burnside, and a rumor was prevalent that his cavalry had already attacked the rear of the enemy’s army. The army of General Bragg, of which Longstreet’s forces were a part, had fallen back from Chattanooga, and was then moving South. These circumstances, together with the hopeless nature of the siege, forced upon Longstreet the abandonment of his undertaking. Daylight revealed the fact that the enemy had gone. “Stack arms! All but the camp guard may rest!” was the order given to the garrison of Fort Sanders, when this state of things became officially known. The order was indeed a welcome one, for our soldiers in Knoxville had not tasted the pleasure of absolute repose for many long weeks. The termination of the siege was an important and joyful event to the whole nation; it was also a great crisis in the lives of the soldiers there, and what they said and did on this important occasion, our readers may be curious to know. The answer shows how utterly unromantic and prosaicwere the Yankee soldiers who made so much history during the four years of war. “Thank God! now I can have a good snooze,” said one, in no irreverent spirit. “Captain, can I go down to the run and wash my shirt?” said another. “Sergeant, has the company got any soap?” asked a third. Probably the thought of one-half of the men in Knoxville, at that moment, was sleep, and of the others, a wash, either of clothes or person. A few officers of the staff, a few orderlies, and surgeons rode out to visit the deserted camp, while our pickets were thrown out to capture the stragglers. In the course of an hour the loiterers and laggards of the late besiegers began to come into our lines in crowds. Some of them had overslept, others had strayed away, and others still had lost heart and skulked in the woods.
A report reached the ears of General Ferrero about noon, that a full regiment of the enemy had been left behind their main army, at a point about five miles distant. Colonel Christ’s brigade, with the Twenty-ninth, was ordered out at once to capture these troops, and a forced and fruitless march was the result. No enemy, save a few worthless stragglers, were found, and the Brigade toward the close of the day returned, tortured with the conviction that they had been made the victims of a practical joke. The men had taken just so much wear out of their last pair of shoes, so travel-worn already, and had been brought just ten miles nearer to raw-hide moccasins. On the same day (December 5), Major-General Sherman, with his own corps and that of General Granger and a portion of General Howard’s, arrived at Marysville (near Knoxville), and sent by his aid-de-camp to General Burnside the following hearty message:—
“I am here, and can bring twenty-five thousand men into Knoxville to-morrow; but Longstreet having retreated, I feel disposed to stop, for a stern chase is a long one. But I will do all that is possible.... Send my aid, Captain Audenried, out with your letters to-night. We are all hearty, but tired. Accept my congratulations at your successful defence and your patient endurance.”
“I am here, and can bring twenty-five thousand men into Knoxville to-morrow; but Longstreet having retreated, I feel disposed to stop, for a stern chase is a long one. But I will do all that is possible.... Send my aid, Captain Audenried, out with your letters to-night. We are all hearty, but tired. Accept my congratulations at your successful defence and your patient endurance.”
The endurance of the men had indeed been patient, and their sufferings and privations very great; but they had saved to the Government the stronghold of East Tennessee, and consequently both East Tennessee and Kentucky.