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Title: Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army —
Complete

Author: Philip Henry Sheridan

Release date: June 1, 2004 [eBook #4362]
Most recently updated: December 27, 2020

Language: English

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MEMOIRS OF P. H. SHERIDAN, GENERAL, UNITED STATES ARMY
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PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF
P. H. SHERIDAN

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
Ancestry—Birth—Early Education—A Clerk in a
Grocery Store—Appointment—Monroe Shoes—Journey
to West Point—Hazing—A Fisticuff Battle Suspended
—Returns to Clerkship—Graduation

CHAPTER II.
Ordered to Fort Duncan, Texas—"Northers"—Scouting
Duty—Hunting—Nearly Caught by the Indians—
A Primitive Habitation—A Brave Drummer Boy's Death
—A Mexican Ball

CHAPTER III.
Ordered to Fort Reading, Cal.—A Dangerous Undertaking
—A Rescued Soldier—Discovering Indians
—Primitive Fishing—A Deserted Village
—Camping Opposite Fort Vancouver

CHAPTER IV.
"Old Red"—Skillful Shooting—The Yalima War
—A Ludicrous Mistake—Cut-mouth John's Encounter
—Father Pandoza's Mission—A Snow-Storm
—Failure of the Expedition

CHAPTER V.
An Indian Confederation—Massacre at the Cascades
of the Columbia—Plan to Relieve the Block-House
—A Hazardous Movement— A New Method of Establishing
Guilt—Execution of the Indian Murderers

CHAPTER VI.
Misdirected Vengeance — Honorable Mention

—A Change of Command—Educated Oxen—Feeding
the Indians—Purchasing a Burying-Ground
—Knowing Rats

CHAPTER VII.
Learning the Chinook Language—Strange Indian Customs
—Their Doctors—Sam Patch—The Murder of a Woman
—In a Tight Place—Surprising the Indians
—Conflicting Reports of the Battle of Bull Run
—Secession Question in California—Appointed
a Captain—Transferred to the East

CHAPTER VIII.
Auditing Accounts—Chief Quartermaster and Commissary
of the Army of Southwest Missouri—Preparing for
the Pea Ridge Campaign—A Difference with General
Curtis—Ordered to the Front—Appointed a Colonel

CHAPTER IX.
Expedition to Booneville—Destroying Supplies
—Confederate Stragglers—Success of the Expedition
—A Reconnoissance—The Importance of Bodily
Sustenance—The Battle of Booneville—Recommended
for Appointment as a Brigadier-General

CHAPTER X.
In Camp near Rienzi—General Granger—A Valuable
Capture at Ripley—Raiding a Corn—Field—Repulsing
an Attack—Presented with the Black Horse "Rienzi"
—Meeting General Grant—Appointed a Brigadier-General

CHAPTER XI.
Good Advice from General Nelson—His Tragic Death
—Putting Louisville in a State of Defense—
Assigned to the Command of the Eleventh Division
—Capture of Chaplin Heights—Battle of Perryville
—Reported Among the Killed—A Thrilling Incident

—General Buell Relieved by General Rosecrans

CHAPTER XII.
Moving to Bowling Green—James Card, the Scout and
Guide—General Sill—Colonel Schaefer—Colonel
G. W. Roberts—Movement on Murfreesboro'
—Opening of the Battle of Stone River

CHAPTER XIII.
Assault on our Right Flank—Occupying a New Position
—The Enemy Checked — Terrible Loss of Officers
—Ammunition Gives Out—Reconstructing the Line
—Collecting the Wounded and Burying the Dead
—Dealing with Cowards—Results of the Victory

CHAPTER XIV.
Appointed a Major-General—The Secret Expedition
under Card the Scout—His Capture by Guerrillas
—Escape—A Revenge Party—Women Soldiers
—A Fight with Sabres—Tullahoma Campaign
—A Foolish Adventure

CHAPTER XV.
Ordered to Occupy Bridgeport—A Spy—The Battle of
Chickamauga—General Thomas—Treated to Coffee
—Results of the Battle

CHAPTER XVI
At Chattanooga—The Enemy Fortifies Lookout Mountain
and Missionary Ridge—Reorganizing the Army
—Removal of General Rosecrans—Punishment of
Deserters—Grant at Chattanooga—The Fight on
Lookout Mountain—A Brave Color-Bearer
—Battle of Missionary Ridge

CHAPTER XVII.
Ordered to Return to Chattanooga—March to Knoxville

—Collecting Subsistence Stores—A Clever Stratagem
—A Bridge of Wagons—Looking Out for the Personal
Comfort of the Soldiers—A Leave of Absence
—Ordered to Washington—Parting with Sheridan's Division

CHAPTER XVIII.
At Washington—Meeting Secretary Stanton—Interview
with President Lincoln—Made Commander of the
Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac
—Its Officers—General 'Meade's Method of Using
Cavalry—Opening of the Campaign—Spottsylvania
Court House—A Difference with General Meade
—Preparing to Fight Stuart's Cavalry

CHAPTER XIX.
The Expedition Starts—Destroying Supplies—Opening
of the Fight at Yellow Tavern—General Custer's
Brilliant Charge—Death of General Stuart—Removing
Torpedoes—Excitement in Richmond—A Night March
—Enterprising Newsboys—The Effects of Stuart's
Defeat and Death—End of the First Expedition
—Its Great Success and Beneficial Results

CHAPTER XX.
General Wilson's Advance Toward Hanover Court
House—Crossing the Pamunkey—Engagement of
Hawe's Shop—Fight at Matadequin Creek—Capture
of Cold Harbor—The Fight to Retain the
Place—Movements of General Wilson

CHAPTER XXI.
The Movement to the James—The Second Expedition
—Battle of Trevillian Station—Defeat of General
Wade Hampton—Mallory's Crossroads—Suffering of
the Wounded—Securing the Trains—General Gregg's
Stubborn Fight

CHAPTER XXII.
General Wilson's Raid—Destroying Railroads
—His Discomfiture—Results of his Raid—Remounts
—Movement to the North Side of the James
—Deceiving Lee—My Isolated Position—Estimate
of Hancock—Success of the Cavalry—Their Constant
Duties

CHAPTER XXIII.
General Hunter's Successful March and Subsequent
Retreat—General Jubal A. Early Threatens Washington
—Chambersburg, Pa., Burned—Selected to Operate
Against General Early—The Shenandoah Valley
—The Confederate Army

CHAPTER XXIV.
Moving on General Early—General Grant's Letter of
Instructions—Destroying the Resources of the Valley
—Reason for the Destruction—Withdrawal to Halltown
—Alarm in the North over the Retrograde Movement
—Renewing the Advance up the Valley—General
Anderson's Attempt to Return to Petersburg
—Strength of the Armies

VOLUME II.

CHAPTER I.
Organizing Scouts—Miss Rebecca Wright—Important
Information—Decides to Move on Newtown—Meeting
General Grant—Organization of the Union Army
—Opening of the Battle of the Opequon
—Death of General Russell—A Turning Movement
—A Successful Cavalry Charge—Victory—Three
Loyal Girls—Appointed a Brigadier—General in the
Regular Army—Remarks on the Battle

CHAPTER II.
Pursuing Early—A Secret March—Fisher's Hill
—A Great Success—Removal of Averell—The Retreat
—Capturing an Old Comrade—The Murder of Lieutenant Meigs

CHAPTER III.
Reasons for Not Pursuing Early Through the Blue Ridge
—General Torbert Detailed to Give General
Rosser a "Drubbing"—General Rosser Routed
—Telegraphed to Meet Stanton—Longstreet's Message
—Return to Winchester—The Ride to Cedar Creek
—The Retreating Army—Rallying the Troops
—Reforming the Line—Commencing the Attack—Defeat
of the Confederates—Appointed a Major-General
in the Regular Army—Results of the Battle

CHAPTER IV.
General Early Reorganizes His Forces—Mosby the
Guerrilla—General Merritt sent to Operate Against
Mosby—Rosser Again Active—General Custer

Surprised—Colonel Young Sent to Capture Gilmore
the Guerrilla—Colonel Young's Success
—Capture of General Kelly and General Crook
—Spies—Was Wilkes Booth a Spy—Driving the
Confederates Out of the Valley—The Battle of
Waynesboro'—Marching to join the Army of the
Potomac

CHAPTER V.
Transferred to Petersburg—General Raw'ins's Cordial
Welcome—General Grant's Orders and Plans—A Trip
with Mr. Lincoln and General Grant—Meeting General
Sherman—Opposed to Joining the Army of the Tennessee
—Opening of the Appomattox Campaign—General Grant
and General Rawlins

CHAPTER VI.
Battle of Dinwiddie Court House—Pickett Repulsed
—Reinforced by the Fifth Corps—Battle of Five
Forks—Turning the Confederate Left—An Unqualified
Success—Relieving General Warren—The Warren Court
of Inquiry—General Sherman's Opinion

CHAPTER VII.
Result of the Battle of Five Forks—Retreat of Lee
—An Intercepted Despatch—At Amelia Court House
—Battle of Sailor's Creek—The Confederates'
Stubborn Resistance—A Complete Victory
—Importance of the Battle

CHAPTER VIII.
Lincoln's Laconic Despatch—Capturing Lee's Supplies
—Delighted Engineers—The Confederates' Last
Effort—A Flag of Truce—General Geary's "Last
Ditch" Absurdity—Meeting of Grant and Lee
—The Surrender—Estimate of General Grant

CHAPTER IX.
Ordered to Greensboro', N. C.—March to the Dan
River—Assigned to the Command West of the
Mississippi—Leaving Washington—Flight of General
Early—Maximilian—Making Demonstrations
on the Upper Rio Grande—Confederates Join
Maximilian—The French Invasion of Mexico, and
its Relations to the Rebellion—Assisting the
Liberals—Restoration of the Republic

CHAPTER X.
A. J. Hamilton Appointed Provisional Governor of
Texas—Assembles a Constitutional Convention
—The Texans Dissatisfied—Lawlessness—Oppressive
Legislation—Ex-Confederates—Controlling
Louisiana—A Constitutional Convention—The
Meeting Suppressed—A Bloody Riot—My Reports
of the Massacre—Portions Suppressed by President
Johnson—Sustained by a Congressional Committee
—The Reconstruction Laws

CHAPTER XI.
Passage of the Reconstruction Act Over the
President's Veto—Placed in Command of the Fifth
Military District—Removing Officers—My Reasons
for Such Action—Affairs in Louisiana and Texas
—Removal of Governor Wells—Revision of the jury
Lists—Relieved from the Command of the Fifth
Military District
CHAPTER XII.
At Fort Leavenworth—The Treaty of Medicine Lodge
—Going to Fort Dodge—Discontented Indians
—Indian Outrages—A Delegation of Chiefs—Terrible
Indian Raid—Death of Comstock—Vast Herds of
Buffalo—Preparing for a Winter Campaign—Meeting
"Buffalo Bill"—He Undertakes a Dangerous Task
—Forsyth's Gallant Fight—Rescued

CHAPTER XIII.
Fitting Out the Winter Expedition—Accompanying the
Main Force—The Other Columns—Struck by a Blizzard
—Custer's Fight on the Washita—Defeat and Death
of Black Kettle—Massacre of Elliott's
Party—Relief of Colonel Crawford

CHAPTER XIV.
A Winter Expedition—Herds of Buffalo—Wolves
—Blizzards—A Terrible Night—Finding the Bodies
of Elliott's Party—The Abandoned Indian Camps
—Pushing Down the Washita—The Captured Chiefs
—Evans's Successful Fight—Establishing Fort Sill
—"California Joe"—Duplicity of the Cheyennes
—Ordered to Repair to Washington

CHAPTER XV.
Inspecting Military Posts in Utah and Montana
—Desire to Witness the Franco—German War
—On a Sand-Bar in the Missouri—A Bear Hunt
—An Indian Scare—Myriads of Mosquitoes—Permission
Given to Visit Europe — Calling on President Grant
—Sailing for Liverpool—Arrival in Berlin

CHAPTER XVI.
Leaving for the Seat of War—Meeting with Prince
Bismarck—His Interest in Public Opinion in America
—His Inclinations in Early Life—Presented to the King
—The Battle of Gravelotte—The German Plan—Its Final
Success—Sending News of the Victory—Mistaken for a Frenchman

CHAPTER XVII.
Searching for Quarters—Hunting up Provisions
—A Slender Breakfast—Going over the Battle-Field
—The German Artillery—A Group of Wounded
—Dining With the King—On the March—The Bavarians

—Kirschwasser—Urging on the Troops

CHAPTER XVIII.
After McMahon—The Battle of Beaumont—The French
Surprised—The Marching of the German Soldiers
—The Battle of Sedan—Gallant Cavalry Charges
—Defeat of the French—The Surrender of Napoleon
—Bismarck and the King—Decorating the Soldiers

CHAPTER XIX.
Riding Over the Battle—Field—Destruction of
Bazeilles—Mistakes of the French—Marshal Bazaine
—On to Paris—A Week in Meaux—Rheims—On the
Picket-Line—Under Fire—A Surrender—At Versailles
—General Burnside and Mr. Forbes in Paris
—Brussels—Deciding to Visit Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The
Ladies of the Harem—The Sultan—Turkish Soldiers
—A Banquet—A Visit in Athens—King George of
Greece—Victor—Emmanuel—Bedeviled with Cares of
State—Deer Shooting—A Military Dinner—Return
to Versailles—Germans Entering Paris—Criticism
on the Franco-Prussian War—Conclusion

CHAPTER XX.
Brussels—Deciding to Visit Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The Ladies of
the Harem—the Sultan—Turkish Soldiers—A Banquet
—A Visit in Athens—King George of Greece—Victor
Emmanuel—"Bedeviled with Cares of State"—Deer Shooting
—A Military Dinner—Return to Versailles—Germans
Entering Paris—Criticism on The Franco-Prussian War
—Conclusion

ILLUSTRATIONS

Steel Portrait—General P. H. Sheridan

Lieutenant Williamson's Trail from Fort Reading, Cal.,

to Fort Vancouver

Lieutenant Sheridan's Fight at the Cascades

of the Columbia in 1856

General Sheridan's War Horse "Rienzi"

Northeastern Mississippi

Battle of Booneville

Map Showing the Field of Operations of the Army of the Cumberland

in 1862 and 1863

Battle—field of Stone River

Positions of General Sheridan's Division in the Battle of Chickamauga

Portrait of General D. McM. Gregg

Portrait of General A. T. A. Torbert

Portrait of General Wesley Merritt

Portrait of General George A. Custer

Portrait of General Sheridan During the War

Portrait of General James H. Wilson

Positions of General Sheridan's Division prior to the

Attack on Missionary Ridge

First Expedition—The Richmond Raid

Second Expedition—The Trevillian Raid

Third Expedition—Raid to Roanoke Station

General Map, Embracing all the Expeditions

Map of the Shenandoah Valley

Portrait of Miss Rebecca M. Wright

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Sept. 20, 1864

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Oct. 22, 1864

Portrait of General William H. Emory

Portrait of General George Crook

General Sheridan and Staff. Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Fisher's Hill

Battle-field of Cedar Creek

Fourth Expedition—Merritt's Raid to Loudoun

Fifth Expedition—Torbert's Raid to Gordonsville

Battle-field of Waynesboro

Sixth Expedition—Winchester to Petersburg

Belle-Grove House. General Sheridan's Headquarters at Cedar Creek

Portrait of General Horatio G. Wright

Battle-field of Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Five Forks

Battle-field of Sailor's Creek

Seventh Expedition—The Appomattox Campaign

Eighth Expedition—To the Dan River and Return

Indian Campaign of 1868—1869

Map Showing Parts of France, Belgium, and Germany

VOLUME I.

PREFACE

When, yielding to the solicitations of my friends, I finally decided to
write these Memoirs, the greatest difficulty which confronted me was that
of recounting my share in the many notable events of the last three decades,
in which I played a part, without entering too fully into the history of these
years, and at the same time without giving to my own acts an unmerited
prominence. To what extent I have overcome this difficulty I must leave the
reader to judge.
In offering this record, penned by my own hand, of the events of my life,
and of my participation in our great struggle for national existence, human
liberty, and political equality, I make no pretension to literary merit; the
importance of the subject-matter of my narrative is my only claim on the
reader's attention.
Respectfully dedicating this work to my comrades in arms during the War
of the Rebellion, I leave it as a heritage to my children, and as a source of
information for the future historian.
P. H. SHERIDAN.
Nonguitt, Mass., August 2, 1888

PERSONAL MEMOIRS

P. H. SHERIDAN.

CHAPTER I.

ANCESTRY—BIRTH—EARLY EDUCATION—A CLERK IN A
GROCERY STORE—APPOINTMENT—MONROE SHOES—JOURNEY
TO WEST POINT—HAZING—A FISTICUFF BATTLE—SUSPENDED
—RETURNS TO CLERKSHIP—GRADUATION.
My parents, John and Mary Sheridan, came to America in 1830, having
been induced by the representations of my father's uncle, Thomas Gainor,
then living in Albany, N. Y., to try their fortunes in the New World: They
were born and reared in the County Cavan, Ireland, where from early
manhood my father had tilled a leasehold on the estate of Cherrymoult; and
the sale of this leasehold provided him with means to seek a new home
across the sea. My parents were blood relations—cousins in the second
degree—my mother, whose maiden name was Minor, having descended
from a collateral branch of my father's family. Before leaving Ireland they
had two children, and on the 6th of March, 1831, the year after their arrival
in this country, I was born, in Albany, N. Y., the third child in a family
which eventually increased to six—four boys and two girls.
The prospects for gaining a livelihood in Albany did not meet the
expectations which my parents had been led to entertain, so in 1832 they
removed to the West, to establish themselves in the village of Somerset, in
Perry County, Ohio, which section, in the earliest days of the State; had
been colonized from Pennsylvania and Maryland. At this period the great
public works of the Northwest—the canals and macadamized roads, a result
of clamor for internal improvements—were in course of construction, and
my father turned his attention to them, believing that they offered
opportunities for a successful occupation. Encouraged by a civil engineer
named Bassett, who had taken a fancy to him, he put in bids for a small
contract on the Cumberland Road, known as the "National Road," which
was then being extended west from the Ohio River. A little success in this
first enterprise led him to take up contracting as a business, which he
followed on various canals and macadamized roads then building in
different parts of the State of Ohio, with some good fortune for awhile, but

in 1853 what little means he had saved were swallowed up —in bankruptcy,
caused by the failure of the Sciota and Hocking Valley Railroad Company,
for which he was fulfilling a contract at the time, and this disaster left him
finally only a small farm, just outside the village of Somerset, where he
dwelt until his death in 1875.
My father's occupation kept him away from home much of the time
during my boyhood, and as a consequence I grew up under the sole
guidance and training of my mother, whose excellent common sense and
clear discernment in every way fitted her for such maternal duties. When
old enough I was sent to the village school, which was taught by an old-
time Irish "master"—one of those itinerant dominies of the early frontier—
who, holding that to spare the rod was to spoil the child, if unable to detect
the real culprit when any offense had been committed, would consistently
apply the switch to the whole school without discrimination. It must be
conceded that by this means he never failed to catch the guilty mischief-
maker. The school-year was divided into terms of three months, the teacher
being paid in each term a certain sum—three dollars, I think, for each pupil-
and having an additional perquisite in the privilege of boarding around at
his option in the different families to which his scholars belonged. This
feature was more than acceptable to the parents at times, for how else could
they so thoroughly learn all the neighborhood gossip? But the pupils were
in almost unanimous opposition, because Mr. McNanly's unheralded advent
at any one's house resulted frequently in the discovery that some favorite
child had been playing "hookey," which means (I will say to the uninitiated,
if any such there be) absenting one's self from school without permission, to
go on a fishing or a swimming frolic. Such at least was my experience more
than once, for Mr. McNanly particularly favored my mother's house,
because of a former acquaintanceship in Ireland, and many a time a
comparison of notes proved that I had been in the woods with two
playfellows, named Binckly and Greiner, when the master thought I was
home, ill, and my mother, that I was at school, deeply immersed in study.
However, with these and other delinquencies not uncommon among boys, I
learned at McNanly's school, and a little later, under a pedagogue named
Thorn, a smattering of geography and history, and explored the mysteries of
Pike's Arithmetic and Bullions' English Grammar, about as far as I could be
carried up to the age of fourteen. This was all the education then bestowed
upon me, and this—with the exception of progressing in some of these

branches by voluntary study, and by practical application in others,
supplemented by a few months of preparation after receiving my
appointment as a cadet—was the extent of my learning on entering the
Military Academy.
When about fourteen years old I began to do something for myself; Mr.
John Talbot, who kept a country store in the village, employing me to deal
out sugar, coffee, and calico to his customers at the munificent salary of
twenty-four dollars a year. After I had gained a twelve-months' experience
with Mr. Talbot my services began to be sought by, others, and a Mr. David
Whitehead secured them by the offer of sixty dollars a year—Talbot
refusing to increase my pay, but not objecting to my advancement. A few
months later, before my year was up, another chance to increase my salary
came about; Mr. Henry Dittoe, the enterprising man of the village, offering
me one hundred and twenty dollars a year to take a position in the dry-
goods store of Fink & Dittoe. I laid the matter before Mr. Whitehead, and
he frankly advised me to accept, though he cautioned me that I might regret
it, adding that he was afraid Henry (referring to Mr. Dittoe) "had too many
irons in the fire." His warning in regard to the enterprising merchant proved
a prophecy, for "too many irons in the fire" brought about Mr. Dittoe's
bankruptcy, although this misfortune did not befall him till long after I had
left his service. I am glad to say, however, that his failure was an
exceptionally honest one, and due more to the fact that he was in advance of
his surroundings than to any other cause.
I remained with Fink & Dittoe until I entered the Military Academy,
principally in charge of the book-keeping, which was no small work for one
of my years, considering that in those days the entire business of country
stores in the West was conducted on the credit system; the customers, being
mostly farmers, never expecting to pay till the product of their farms could
be brought to market; and even then usually squared the book-accounts by
notes of hand, that were often slow of collection.
From the time I ceased to attend school my employment had
necessitated, to a certain degree, the application of what I had learned there,
and this practical instruction I reinforced somewhat by doing considerable
reading in a general way, until ultimately I became quite a local authority in
history, being frequently chosen as arbiter in discussions and disputes that
arose in the store. The Mexican War, then going on, furnished, of course, a

never-ending theme for controversy, and although I was too young to enter
the military service when volunteers were mustering in our section, yet the
stirring events of the times so much impressed and absorbed me that my
sole wish was to become a soldier, and my highest aspiration to go to West
Point as a Cadet from my Congressional district. My chances for this
seemed very remote, however, till one day an opportunity was thrown in my
way by the boy who then held the place failing to pass his examination.
When I learned that by this occurrence a vacancy existed, I wrote to our
representative in Congress, the Hon. Thomas Ritchey, and asked him for the
appointment, reminding him that we had often met in Fink & Dittoe's store,
and that therefore he must know something of my qualifications. He
responded promptly by enclosing my warrant for the class of 1848; so,
notwithstanding the many romances that have been published about the
matter, to Mr. Ritchey, and to him alone, is due all the credit—if my career
justifies that term—of putting me in the United States Army.
At once I set about preparing for the examination which precedes
admission to the Military Academy, studying zealously under the direction
of Mr. William Clark; my old teachers, McNanly and Thorn, having
disappeared from Somerset and sought new fields of usefulness. The
intervening months passed rapidly away, and I fear that I did not make
much progress, yet I thought I should be able to pass the preliminary
examination. That which was to follow worried me more and gave me
many sleepless nights; but these would have been less in number, I fully
believe, had it not been for one specification of my, outfit which the circular
that accompanied my appointment demanded. This requirement was a pair
of "Monroe shoes." Now, out in Ohio, what "Monroe shoes" were was a
mystery—not a shoemaker in my section having so much as an inkling of
the construction of the perplexing things, until finally my eldest brother
brought an idea of them from Baltimore, when it was found that they were a
familiar pattern under another name.
At length the time for my departure came, and I set out for West Point,
going by way of Cleveland and across Lake Erie to Buffalo. On the steamer
I fell in with another appointee en route to the academy, David S. Stanley,
also from Ohio; and when our acquaintanceship had ripened somewhat, and
we had begun to repose confidence in each other, I found out that he had no
"Monroe shoes," so I deemed myself just that much ahead of my
companion, although my shoes might not conform exactly to the regulations

in Eastern style and finish. At Buffalo, Stanley and I separated, he going by
the Erie Canal and I by the railroad, since I wanted to gain time on account
of commands to stop in Albany to see my father's uncle. Here I spent a few
days, till Stanley reached Albany, when we journeyed together down the
river to West Point. The examination began a few days after our arrival, and
I soon found myself admitted to the Corps of Cadets, to date from July 1,
1848, in a class composed of sixty-three members, many of whom—for
example, Stanley, Slocum, Woods, Kautz, and Crook—became prominent
generals in later years, and commanded divisions, corps, and armies in the
war of the rebellion.
Quickly following my admission I was broken in by a course of hazing,
with many of the approved methods that the Cadets had handed down from
year to year since the Academy was founded; still, I escaped excessive
persecution, although there were in my day many occurrences so extreme as
to call forth condemnation and an endeavor to suppress the senseless
custom, which an improved civilization has now about eradicated, not only
at West Point, but at other colleges.
Although I had met the Academic board and come off with fair success,
yet I knew so little of Algebra or any of the higher branches of mathematics
that during my first six months at the Academy I was discouraged by many
misgivings as to the future, for I speedily learned that at the January
examination the class would have to stand a test much severer than that
which had been applied to it on entering. I resolved to try hard, however,
and, besides, good fortune gave me for a room-mate a Cadet whose
education was more advanced than mine, and whose studious habits and
willingness to aid others benefited me immensely. This room-mate was
Henry W. Slocum, since so signally distinguished in both military and civil
capacities as to win for his name a proud place in the annals of his country.
After taps—that is, when by the regulations of the Academy all the lights
were supposed to be extinguished, and everybody in bed—Slocum and I
would hang a blanket over the one window of our room and continue our
studies—he guiding me around scores of stumbling-blocks in Algebra and
elucidating many knotty points in other branches of the course with which I
was unfamiliar. On account of this association I went up before the Board in
January with less uneasiness than otherwise would have been the case, and
passed the examination fairly well. When it was over, a self-confidence in
my capacity was established that had not existed hitherto, and at each

succeeding examination I gained a little in order of merit till my furlough
summer came round—that is, when I was half through the four-year course.
My furlough in July and August, 1850, was spent at my home in Ohio,
with the exception of a visit or two to other Cadets on furlough in the State,
and at the close of my leave I returned to the Academy in the full
expectation of graduating with my class in 1852.
A quarrel of a belligerent character in September 1851, with Cadet
William R. Terrill, put an end to this anticipation, however, and threw me
back into the class which graduated in 1853. Terrill was a Cadet Sergeant,
and, while my company was forming for parade, having, given me an order,
in what I considered an improper tone, to "dress" in a certain direction,
when I believed I was accurately dressed, I fancied I had a grievance, and
made toward him with a lowered bayonet, but my better judgment recalled
me before actual contact could take place. Of course Terrill reported me for
this, and my ire was so inflamed by his action that when we next met I
attacked him, and a fisticuff engagement in front of barracks followed,
which was stopped by an officer appearing on the scene. Each of us handed
in an explanation, but mine was unsatisfactory to the authorities, for I had to
admit that I was the assaulting party, and the result was that I was
suspended by the Secretary of War, Mr. Conrad, till August 28, 1852—the
Superintendent of the Academy, Captain Brewerton, being induced to
recommend this milder course, he said, by my previous good conduct. At
the time I thought, of course, my suspension a very unfair punishment, that
my conduct was justifiable and the authorities of the Academy all wrong,
but riper experience has led me to a different conclusion, and as I look back,
though the mortification I then endured was deep and trying, I am
convinced that it was hardly as much as I deserved for such an outrageous
breach of discipline.
There was no question as to Terrill's irritating tone, but in giving me the
order he was prompted by the duty of his position as a file closer, and I was
not the one to remedy the wrong which I conceived had been done me, and
clearly not justifiable in assuming to correct him with my own hands. In
1862, when General Buell's army was assembling at Louisville, Terrill was
with it as a brigadier-general (for, although a Virginian, he had remained
loyal), and I then took the initiative toward a renewal of our acquaintance.
Our renewed friendship was not destined to be of long duration, I am sorry

to say, for a few days later, in the battle of Perryville, while gallantly
fighting for his country, poor Terrill was killed.
My suspension necessitated my leaving the Academy, and I returned
home in the fall of 1851, much crestfallen. Fortunately, my good friend
Henry Dittoe again gave me employment in keeping the books of his
establishment, and this occupation of my time made the nine months which
were to elapse before I could go back to West Point pass much more
agreeably than they would have done had I been idle. In August, 1852, I
joined the first class at the Academy in accordance with the order of the
War Department, taking my place at the foot of the class and graduating
with it the succeeding June, number thirty-four in a membership of fifty-
two. At the head of this class graduated James B. McPherson, who was
killed in the Atlanta campaign while commanding the Army of the
Tennessee. It also contained such men as John M. Schofield, who
commanded the Army of the Ohio; Joshua W. Sill, killed as a brigadier in
the battle of Stone River; and many others who, in the war of the rebellion,
on one side or the other, rose to prominence, General John B. Hood being
the most distinguished member of the class among the Confederates.
At the close of the final examination I made no formal application for
assignment to any particular arm of the service, for I knew that my standing
would not entitle me to one of the existing vacancies, and that I should be
obliged to take a place among the brevet second lieutenants. When the
appointments were made I therefore found myself attached to the First
Infantry, well pleased that I had surmounted all the difficulties that confront
the student at our national school, and looking forward with pleasant
anticipation to the life before me.

CHAPTER II.

ORDERED TO FORT DUNCAN, TEXAS—"NORTHERS"—
SCOUTING DUTY—HUNTING—NEARLY CAUGHT BY THE
INDIANS—A PRIMITIVE HABITATION—A BRAVE
DRUMMERBOY'S DEATH—A MEXICAN BALL.
On the 1st day of July, 1853, I was commissioned a brevet second
lieutenant in the First Regiment of United States Infantry, then stationed in
Texas. The company to which I was attached was quartered at Fort Duncan,
a military post on the Rio Grande opposite the little town of Piedras Negras,
on the boundary line between the United States and the Republic of
Mexico.
After the usual leave of three months following graduation from the
Military Academy I was assigned to temporary duty at Newport Barracks, a
recruiting station and rendezvous for the assignment of young officers
preparatory to joining their regiments. Here I remained from September,
1853, to March, 1854, when I was ordered to join my company at Fort
Duncan. To comply with this order I proceeded by steamboat down the
Ohio and Mississippi rivers to New Orleans, thence by steamer across the
Gulf of Mexico to Indianola, Tex., and after landing at that place, continued
in a small schooner through what is called the inside channel on the Gulf
coast to Corpus Christi, the headquarters of Brigadier-General Persifer F.
Smith, who was commanding the Department of Texas. Here I met some of
my old friends from the Military Academy, among them Lieutenant Alfred
Gibbs, who in the last year of the rebellion commanded under me a brigade
of cavalry, and Lieutenant Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, of the Mounted
Rifles, who resigned in 1854 to accept service in the French Imperial army,
but to most of those about headquarters I was an entire stranger. Among the
latter was Captain Stewart Van Vliet, of the Quartermaster's Department,
now on the retired list. With him I soon came in frequent contact, and, by
reason of his connection with the Quartermaster's Department, the kindly
interest he took in forwarding my business inaugurated between us—a
lasting friendship.

A day or two after my arrival at Corpus Christi a train of Government
wagons, loaded with subsistence stores and quartermaster's supplies, started
for Laredo, a small town on the Rio Grande below Fort Duncan. There
being no other means of reaching my station I put my small personal
possessions, consisting of a trunk, mattress, two blankets, and a pillow into
one of the heavily loaded wagons and proceeded to join it, sitting on the
boxes or bags of coffee and sugar, as I might choose. The movement of the
train was very slow, as the soil was soft on the newly made and sandy
roads. We progressed but a few miles on our first day's journey, and in the
evening parked our train at a point where there was no wood, a scant supply
of water—and that of bad quality—but an abundance of grass. There being
no comfortable place to sleep in any of the wagons, filled as they were to
the bows with army supplies, I spread my blankets on the ground between
the wheels of one of them, and awoke in the morning feeling as fresh and
bright as would have been possible if all the comforts of civilization had
been at my command.
It took our lumbering train many days to reach Laredo, a distance of
about one hundred and sixty miles from Corpus Christi. Each march was
but a repetition of the first day's journey, its monotony occasionally
relieved, though, by the passage of immense flocks of ducks and geese, and
the appearance at intervals of herds of deer, and sometimes droves of wild
cattle, wild horses and mules. The bands of wild horses I noticed were
sometimes led by mules, but generally by stallions with long wavy manes,
and flowing tails which almost touched the ground.
We arrived at Laredo during one of those severe storms incident to that
section, which are termed "Northers" from the fact that the north winds
culminate occasionally in cold windstorms, frequently preceded by heavy
rains. Generally the blow lasts for three days, and the cold becomes intense
and piercing. While the sudden depression of the temperature is most
disagreeable, and often causes great suffering, it is claimed that these
"Northers" make the climate more healthy and endurable. They occur from
October to May, and in addition to the destruction which, through the
sudden depression of the temperature, they bring on the herds in the
interior, they are often of sufficient violence to greatly injure the harbors on
the coast.

The post near Laredo was called Fort McIntosh, and at this period the
troops stationed there consisted of eight companies of the Fifth Infantry and
two of the First, one of the First Artillery, and three of the Mounted Rifles.
Just before the "Norther" began these troops had completed a redoubt for
the defense of the post, with the exception of the ditches, but as the parapet
was built of sand—the only material about Laredo which could be obtained
for its construction—the severity of the winds was too much for such a
shifting substance, and the work was entirely blown away early in the
storm.
I was pleasantly and hospitably welcomed by the officers at the post, all
of whom were living in tents, with no furniture except a cot and trunk, and
an improvised bed for a stranger, when one happened to come along. After I
had been kindly taken in by one of the younger officers, I reported to the
commanding officer, and was informed by him that he would direct the
quartermaster to furnish me, as soon as convenient, with transportation to
Fort Duncan, the station of my company.
In the course of a day or two, the quartermaster notified me that a
Government six-mule wagon would be placed at my disposal to proceed to
my destination. No better means offering, I concluded to set out in this
conveyance, and, since it was also to carry a quantity of quartermaster's
property for Fort Duncan, I managed to obtain room enough for my bed in
the limited space between the bows and load, where I could rest tolerably
well, and under cover at night, instead of sleeping on the ground under the
wagon, as I had done on the road from Corpus Christi to Laredo.
I reached Fort Duncan in March, 1854., and was kindly received by the
commanding officer of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Thompson Morris,
and by the captain of my company ("D"), Eugene E. McLean, and his
charming wife the only daughter of General E. V. Sumner, who was already
distinguished in our service, but much better known in after years in the
operations of the Army of the Potomac, during its early campaigns in
Virginia. Shortly after joining company "D" I was sent out on scouting duty
with another company of the regiment to Camp La Pena, about sixty or
seventy miles east of Fort Duncan, in a section of country that had for some
time past been subjected to raids by the Lipan and Comanche Indians. Our
outpost at La Pena was intended as a protection against the predatory
incursions of these savages, so almost constant scouting became a daily

occupation. This enabled me soon to become familiar with and make maps
of the surrounding country, and, through constant association with our
Mexican guide, to pick up in a short time quite a smattering of the Spanish
language, which was very useful to one serving on that frontier.
At that early day western Texas was literally filled with game, and the
region in the immediate vicinity of La Pena contained its full proportion of
deer, antelope, and wild turkeys. The temptation to hunt was therefore
constantly before me, and a desire to indulge in this pastime, whenever free
from the legitimate duty of the camp, soon took complete possession of me,
so expeditions in pursuit of game were of frequent occurrence. In these
expeditions I was always accompanied by a soldier named Frankman,
belonging to "D" company, who was a fine sportsman, and a butcher by
trade. In a short period I learned from Frankman how to approach and
secure the different species of game, and also how to dress and care for it
when killed. Almost every expedition we made was rewarded with a good
supply of deer, antelope, and wild turkeys, and we furnished the command
in camp with such abundance that it was relieved from the necessity of
drawing its beef ration, much to the discomfiture of the disgruntled beef
contractor.
The camp at La Pena was on sandy ground, unpleasant for men and
animals, and by my advice it was moved to La Pendencia, not far from
Lake Espantosa. Before removal from our old location, however, early one
bright morning Frankman and I started on one of our customary
expeditions, going down La Pena Creek to a small creek, at the head of
which we had established a hunting rendezvous. After proceeding along the
stream for three or four miles we saw a column of smoke on the prairie, and
supposing it arose from a camp of Mexican rancheros catching wild horses
or wild cattle, and even wild mules, which were very numerous in that
section of country along the Nueces River, we thought we would join the
party and see how much success they were having, and observe the methods
employed in this laborious and sometimes dangerous vocation. With this
object in view, we continued on until we found it necessary to cross to the
other side of the creek to reach the point indicated by the smoke. Just before
reaching the crossing I discovered moccasin tracks near the water's edge,
and realizing in an instant that the camp we were approaching might
possibly be one of hostile Indians—all Indians in that country at that time
were hostile—Frankman and I backed out silently, and made eager strides

for La Pena, where we had scarcely arrived when Captain M. E. Van Buren,
of the Mounted Rifle regiment, came in with a small command, and
reported that he was out in pursuit of a band of Comanche Indians, which
had been committing depredations up about Fort Clark, but that he had lost
the trail. I immediately informed him of what had occurred to me during the
morning, and that I could put him on the trail of the Indians he was desirous
of punishing.
We hurriedly supplied with rations his small command of thirteen, men,
and I then conducted him to the point where I had seen the smoke, and there
we found signs indicating it to be the recently abandoned camp of the
Indians he was pursuing, and we also noticed that prairie rats had formed
the principal article of diet at the meal they had just completed. As they had
gone, I could do no more than put him on the trail made in their departure,
which was well marked; for Indians, when in small parties, and unless
pressed, usually follow each other in single file. Captain Van Buren
followed the trail by Fort Ewell, and well down toward Corpus Christi, day
and night, until the Indians, exhausted and used up, halted, on an open
plain, unsaddled their horses, mounted bareback, and offered battle. Their
number was double that of Van Buren's detachment, but he attacked them
fearlessly, and in the fight was mortally wounded by an arrow which
entered his body in front, just above the sword belt, and came through the
belt behind. The principal chief of the Indians was killed, and the rest fled.
Captain Van Buren's men carried him to Corpus Christi, where in a few
days he died.
After our removal to La Pendencia a similar pursuit of savages occurred,
but with more fortunate results. Colonel John H. King, now on the retired
list, then a captain in the First Infantry, came to our camp in pursuit of a
marauding band of hostile Indians, and I was enabled to put him also on the
trail. He soon overtook them, and killing two without loss to himself, the
band dispersed like a flock of quail and left him nothing to follow. He
returned to our camp shortly after, and the few friendly Indian scouts he had
with him held a grand pow-wow and dance over the scalps of the fallen
braves.
Around La Pendencia, as at La Pena, the country abounded in deer,
antelope, wild turkeys, and quail, and we killed enough to supply
abundantly the whole command with the meat portion of the ration. Some

mornings Frankman and I would bring in as many as seven deer, and our
hunting expeditions made me so familiar with the region between our camp
and Fort Duncan, the headquarters of the regiment, that I was soon enabled
to suggest a more direct route of communication than the circuitous one
then traversed, and in a short time it was established.
Up to this time I had been on detached duty, but soon my own company
was ordered into the field to occupy a position on Turkey Creek, about ten
or twelve miles west of the Nueces River, on the road from San Antonio to
Fort Duncan, and I was required to join the company. Here constant work
and scouting were necessary, as our camp was specially located with
reference to protecting from Indian raids the road running from San Antonio
to Fort Duncan, and on to the interior of Mexico. In those days this road
was the great line of travel, and Mexican caravans were frequently passing
over it, to and fro, in such a disorganized condition as often to invite attack
from marauding Comanches and Lipans. Our time, therefore, was
incessantly occupied in scouting, but our labors were much lightened
because they were directed with intelligence and justice by Captain
McLean, whose agreeable manners and upright methods are still so
impressed on my memory that to this day I look back upon my service with
"D" Company of the First Infantry as among those events which I
remember with most pleasure.
In this manner my first summer of active field duty passed rapidly away,
and in the fall my company returned to Fort Duncan to go into winter
quarters. These quarters, when constructed, consisted of "A" tents pitched
under a shed improvised by the company. With only these accommodations
I at first lived around as best I could until the command was quartered, and
then, requesting a detail of wagons from the quartermaster, I went out some
thirty miles to get poles to build a more comfortable habitation for myself.
In a few days enough poles for the construction of a modest residence were
secured and brought in, and then the building of my house began. First, the
poles were cut the proper length, planted in a trench around four sides of a
square of very small proportions, and secured at the top by string-pieces
stretched from one angle to another, in which half-notches hack been made
at proper intervals to receive the uprights. The poles were then made rigid
by strips nailed on half-way to the ground, giving the sides of the structure
firmness, but the interstices were large and frequent; still, with the aid of
some old condemned paulins obtained from the quartermaster, the walls

were covered and the necessity for chinking obviated. This method of
covering the holes in the side walls also possessed the advantage of
permitting some little light to penetrate to the interior of the house, and
avoided the necessity of constructing a window, for which, by the way, no
glass could have been obtained. Next a good large fire-place and chimney
were built in one corner by means of stones and mud, and then the roof was
put on—a thatched one of prairie grass. The floor was dirt compactly
tamped.
My furniture was very primitive: a chair or two, with about the same
number of camp stools, a cot, and a rickety old bureau that I obtained in
some way not now remembered. My washstand consisted of a board about
three feet long, resting on legs formed by driving sticks into the ground
until they held it at about the proper height from the floor. This washstand
was the most expensive piece of furniture I owned, the board having cost
me three dollars, and even then I obtained it as a favor, for lumber on the
Rio Grande was so scarce in those days that to possess even the smallest
quantity was to indulge in great luxury. Indeed, about all that reached the
post was what came in the shape of bacon boxes, and the boards from these
were reserved for coffins in which to bury our dead.
In this rude habitation I spent a happy winter, and was more comfortably
off than many of the officers, who had built none, but lived in tents and
took the chances of "Northers." During this period our food was principally
the soldier's ration: flour, pickled pork, nasty bacon—cured in the dust of
ground charcoal—and fresh beef, of which we had a plentiful supply,
supplemented with game of various kinds. The sugar, coffee, and smaller
parts of the ration were good, but we had no vegetables, and the few jars of
preserves and some few vegetables kept by the sutler were too expensive to
be indulged in. So during all the period I lived at Fort Duncan and its sub-
camps, nearly sixteen months, fresh vegetables were practically
unobtainable. To prevent scurvy we used the juice of the maguey plant,
called pulque, and to obtain a supply of this anti-scorbutic I was often
detailed to march the company out about forty miles, cut the plant, load up
two or three wagons with the stalks, and carry them to camp. Here the juice
was extracted by a rude press, and put in bottles until it fermented and
became worse in odor than sulphureted hydrogen. At reveille roll-call every
morning this fermented liquor was dealt out to the company, and as it was
my duty, in my capacity of subaltern, to attend these roll-calls and see that

the men took their ration of pulque, I always began the duty by drinking a
cup of the repulsive stuff myself. Though hard to swallow, its well-known
specific qualities in the prevention and cure of scurvy were familiar to all,
so every man in the command gulped down his share notwithstanding its
vile taste and odor.
Considering our isolation, the winter passed very pleasantly to us all. The
post was a large one, its officers congenial, and we had many enjoyable
occasions. Dances, races, and horseback riding filled in much of the time,
and occasional raids from Indians furnished more serious occupation in the
way of a scout now and then. The proximity of the Indians at times
rendered the surrounding country somewhat dangerous for individuals or
small parties at a distance from the fort; but few thought the savages would
come near, so many risks were doubtless run by various officers, who
carried the familiar six-shooter as their only weapon while out horseback
riding, until suddenly we were awakened to the dangers we had been
incurring.
About mid-winter a party of hostile Lipans made a swoop around and
skirting the garrison, killing a herder—a discharged drummer-boy—in sight
of the flag-staff. Of course great excitement followed. Captain J. G. Walker,
of the Mounted Rifles, immediately started with his company in pursuit of
the Indians, and I was directed to accompany the command. Not far away
we found the body of the boy filled with arrows, and near him the body of a
fine looking young Indian, whom the lad had undoubtedly killed before he
was himself overpowered. We were not a great distance behind the Indians
when the boy's body was discovered, and having good trailers we gained on
them rapidly, with the prospect of overhauling them, but as soon as they
found we were getting near they headed for the Rio Grande, made the
crossing to the opposite bank, and were in Mexico before we could overtake
them. When on the other side of the boundary they grew very brave, daring
us to come over to fight them, well aware all the time that the international
line prevented us from continuing the pursuit. So we had to return to the
post without reward for our exertion except the consciousness of having
made the best effort we could to catch the murderers. That night, in
company with Lieutenant Thomas G. Williams, I crossed over the river to
the Mexican village of Piedras Negras, and on going to a house where a
large baille, or dance, was going on we found among those present two of
the Indians we had been chasing. As soon as they saw us they strung their

bows for a fight, and we drew our six-shooters, but the Mexicans quickly
closed in around the Indians and forced them out of the house—or rude
jackal—where the "ball" was being held, and they escaped. We learned later
something about the nature of the fight the drummer had made, and that his
death had cost them dear, for, in addition to the Indian killed and lying by
his side, he had mortally wounded another and seriously wounded a third,
with the three shots that he had fired.
At this period I took up the notion of making a study of ornithology,
incited to it possibly by the great number of bright-colored birds that made
their winter homes along the Rio Grande, and I spent many a leisure hour in
catching specimens by means of stick traps, with which I found little
difficulty in securing almost every variety of the feathered tribes. I made
my traps by placing four sticks of a length suited to the size desired so as to
form a square, and building up on them in log-cabin fashion until the
structure came almost to a point by contraction of the corners. Then the
sticks were made secure, the trap placed at some secluded spot, and from
the centre to the outside a trench was dug in the ground, and thinly covered
when a depth had been obtained that would leave an aperture sufficiently
large to admit the class of birds desired. Along this trench seeds and other
food were scattered, which the birds soon discovered, and of course began
to eat, unsuspectingly following the tempting bait through the gallery till
they emerged from its farther end in the centre of the trap, where they
contentedly fed till the food was all gone. Then the fact of imprisonment
first presented itself, and they vainly endeavored to escape through the
interstices of the cage, never once guided by their instinct to return to
liberty through the route by which they had entered.
Among the different kinds of birds captured in this way, mocking-birds,
blue-birds, robins, meadow larks, quail, and plover were the most
numerous. They seemed to have more voracious appetites than other
varieties, or else they were more unwary, and consequently more easily
caught. A change of station, however, put an end to my ornithological plans,
and activities of other kinds prevented me from resuming them in after life.
There were quite a number of young officers at the post during the
winter, and as our relations with the Mexican commandant at Piedras
Negras were most amicable, we were often invited to dances at his house.
He and his hospitable wife and daughter drummed up the female portion of

the elite of Piedras Negras and provided the house, which was the official as
well as the personal residence of the commandant, while we—the young
officers—furnished the music and such sweetmeats, candies, etc., for the
baille as the country would afford.
We generally danced in a long hall on a hard dirt floor. The girls sat on
one side of the hall, chaperoned by their mothers or some old duennas, and
the men on the other. When the music struck up each man asked the lady
whom his eyes had already selected to dance with him, and it was not
etiquette for her to refuse—no engagements being allowed before the music
began. When the dance, which was generally a long waltz, was over, he
seated his partner, and then went to a little counter at the end of the room
and bought his dulcinea a plate of the candies and sweetmeats provided.
Sometimes she accepted them, but most generally pointed to her duenna or
chaperon behind, who held up her apron and caught the refreshments as
they were slid into it from the plate. The greatest decorum was maintained
at these dances, primitively as they were conducted; and in a region so
completely cut off from the world, their influence was undoubtedly
beneficial to a considerable degree in softening the rough edges in a half-
breed population.
The inhabitants of this frontier of Mexico were strongly marked with
Indian characteristics, particularly with those of the Comanche type, and as
the wild Indian blood predominated, few of the physical traits of the
Spaniard remained among them, and outlawry was common. The Spanish
conquerors had left on the northern border only their graceful manners and
their humility before the cross. The sign of Christianity was prominently
placed at all important points on roads or trails, and especially where any
one had been killed; and as the Comanche Indians, strong and warlike, had
devastated northeastern Mexico in past years, all along the border, on both
sides of the Rio Grande, the murderous effects of their raids were evidenced
by numberless crosses. For more than a century forays had been made on
the settlements and towns by these bloodthirsty savages, and, the Mexican
Government being too weak to afford protection, property was destroyed,
the women and children carried off or ravished, and the men compelled to
look on in an agony of helplessness till relieved by death. During all this
time, however, the forms and ceremonials of religion, and the polite
manners received from the Spaniards, were retained, and reverence for the

emblems of Christianity was always uppermost in the mind of even the
most ignorant.

CHAPTER III.

ORDERED TO FORT READING, CAL.—A DANGEROUS
UNDERTAKING—A RESCUED SOLDIER—DISCOVERING INDIANS
—PRIMITIVE FISHING—A DESERTED VILLAGE—CAMPING
OPPOSITE FORT VANCOUVER.
In November, 1854, I received my promotion to a second lieutenancy in
the Fourth Infantry, which was stationed in California and Oregon. In order
to join my company at Fort Reading, California, I had to go to New York as
a starting point, and on arrival there, was placed on duty, in May, 1855, in
command of a detachment of recruits at Bedloe's Island, intended for
assignment to the regiments on the Pacific coast. I think there were on the
island (now occupied by the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World) about
three hundred recruits. For a time I was the only officer with them, but
shortly before we started for California, Lieutenant Francis H. Bates, of the
Fourth Infantry, was placed in command. We embarked for the Pacific coast
in July, 1855, and made the journey without incident via the Isthmus of
Panama, in due time landing our men at Benecia Barracks, above San
Francisco.
From this point I proceeded to join my company at Fort Reading, and on
reaching that post, found orders directing me to relieve Lieutenant John B.
Hood—afterward well known as a distinguished general in the Confederate
service. Lieutenant Hood was in command of the personal mounted escort
of Lieutenant R. S. Williamson, who was charged with the duty of making
such explorations and surveys as would determine the practicability of
connecting, by railroad, the Sacramento Valley in California with the
Columbia River in Oregon Territory, either through the Willamette Valley,
or (if this route should prove to be impracticable) by the valley of the Des
Chutes River near the foot-slopes of the Cascade chain. The survey was
being made in accordance with an act of Congress, which provided both for
ascertaining the must practicable and economical route for a railroad
between the Mississippi River and the Pacific Ocean, and for military and
geographical surveys west of the Mississippi River.

Fort Reading was the starting-point for this exploring expedition, and
there I arrived some four or five days after the party under Lieutenant
Williamson had begun its march. His personal escort numbered about sixty
mounted men, made up of detachments from companies of the First
Dragoons, under command of Lieutenant Hood, together with about one
hundred men belonging to the Fourth Infantry and Third Artillery,
commanded by Lieutenant Horatio Gates Gibson, the present colonel of the
Third United States Artillery. Lieutenant George Crook—now major-
general—was the quartermaster and commissary of subsistence of the
expedition.
The commanding officer at Fort Reading seemed reluctant to let me go
on to relieve Lieutenant Hood, as the country to be passed over was infested
by the Pit River Indians, known to be hostile to white people and especially
to small parties. I was very anxious to proceed, however, and willing to take
the chances; so, consent being finally obtained, I started with a corporal and
two mounted men, through a wild and uninhabited region, to overtake if
possible Lieutenant Williamson. Being on horseback, and unencumbered by
luggage of any kind except blankets and a little hard bread, coffee and
smoking-tobacco, which were all carried on our riding animals, we were
sanguine of succeeding, for we traversed in one day fully the distance made
in three by Lieutenant Williamson's party on foot.
The first day we reached the base of Lassan's Butte, where I determined
to spend the night near an isolated cabin, or dugout, that had been recently
constructed by a hardy pioneer. The wind was blowing a disagreeable gale,
which had begun early in the day. This made it desirable to locate our camp
under the best cover we could find, and I spent some little time in looking
about for a satisfactory place, but nothing better offered than a large fallen
tree, which lay in such a direction that by encamping on its lee side we
would be protected from the fury of the storm. This spot was therefore fixed
upon, and preparation made for spending the night as comfortably as the
circumstances would permit.
After we had unsaddled I visited the cabin to inquire in regard to the
country ahead, and there found at first only a soldier of Williamson's party;
later the proprietor of the ranch appeared. The soldier had been left behind
by the surveying party on account of illness, with instructions to make his
way back to Fort Reading as best he could when he recovered. His

condition having greatly improved, however, since he had been left, he now
begged me in beseeching terms to take him along with my party, which I
finally consented to do, provided that if he became unable to keep up with
me, and I should be obliged to abandon him, the responsibility would be
his, not mine. This increased my number to five, and was quite a
reinforcement should we run across any hostile Indians; but it was also
certain to prove an embarrassment should the man again fall ill.
During the night, notwithstanding the continuance of the storm, I had a
very sound and refreshing sleep behind the protecting log where we made
our camp, and at daylight next morning we resumed our journey, fortified
by a breakfast of coffee and hard bread. I skirted around the base of
Lassan's Butte, thence down Hat Creek, all the time following the trail
made by Lieutenant Williamson's party. About noon the soldier I had picked
up at my first camp gave out, and could go no farther. As stipulated when I
consented to take him along, I had the right to abandon him, but when it
came to the test I could not make up my mind to do it. Finding a good place
not far off the trail, one of my men volunteered to remain with him until he
died; and we left them there, with a liberal supply of hard bread and coffee,
believing that we would never again see the invalid. My reinforcement was
already gone, and another man with it.
With my diminished party I resumed the trail and followed it until about
4 o'clock in the afternoon, when we heard the sound of voices, and the
corporal, thinking we were approaching Lieutenant Williamson's party, was
so overjoyed in anticipation of the junction, that he wanted to fire his
musket as an expression of his delight. This I prevented his doing, however,
and we continued cautiously and slowly on to develop the source of the
sounds in front. We had not gone far before I discovered that the noise came
from a band of Pit River Indians, who had struck the trail of the surveying
expedition, and were following it up, doubtless with evil intent.
Dismounting from my horse I counted the moccasin tracks to ascertain the
number of Indians, discovered it to be about thirty, and then followed on
behind them cautiously, but with little difficulty, as appearances of speed on
their part indicated that they wished to overtake Lieutenant Williamson's
party, which made them less on the lookout than usual for any possible
pursuers. After following the trail until nearly sundown, I considered it
prudent to stop for the night, and drew off some little distance, where,
concealed in a dense growth of timber, we made our camp.

As I had with me now only two men, I felt somewhat nervous, so I
allowed no fires to be built, and in consequence our supper consisted of
hard bread only. I passed an anxious night, but beyond our own solicitude
there was nothing to disturb us, the Indians being too much interested in
overtaking the party in front to seek for victims in the rear, After a hard-
bread breakfast we started again on the trail, and had proceeded but a short
distance when, hearing the voices of the Indians, we at once slackened our
speed so as not to overtake them.
Most of the trail on which we traveled during the morning ran over an
exceedingly rough lava formation—a spur of the lava beds often described
during the Modoc war of 1873 so hard and flinty that Williamson's large
command made little impression on its surface, leaving in fact, only
indistinct traces of its line of march. By care and frequent examinations we
managed to follow his route through without much delay, or discovery by
the Indians, and about noon, owing to the termination of the lava formation,
we descended into the valley of Hat Greek, a little below where it emerges
from the second canon and above its confluence with Pit River. As soon as
we reached the fertile soil of the valley, we found Williamson's trail well
defined, deeply impressed in the soft loam, and coursing through wild-
flowers and luxuriant grass which carpeted the ground on every hand.
When we struck this delightful locality we traveled with considerable
speed, and after passing over hill and vale for some distance, the trail
becoming more and more distinct all the time, I suddenly saw in front of me
the Pit River Indians.
This caused a halt, and having hurriedly re-capped our guns and six-
shooters, thus preparing for the worst, I took a look at the band through my
field-glass. They were a half-mile or more in our front and numbered about
thirty individuals, armed with bows and arrows only. Observing us they
made friendly demonstrations, but I had not implicit faith in a Pit River
Indian at that period of the settlement of our country, and especially in that
wild locality, so after a "council of war" with the corporal and man, I
concluded to advance to a point about two hundred yards distant from the
party, when, relying on the speed of our horses rather than on the peaceable
intentions of the savages, I hoped to succeed in cutting around them and
take the trail beyond. Being on foot they could not readily catch us, and

inasmuch as their arrows were good for a range of only about sixty yards, I
had no fear of any material damage on that score.
On reaching the place selected for our flank movement we made a dash
to the left of the trail, through the widest part of the valley, and ran our
horses swiftly by, but I noticed that the Indians did not seem to be disturbed
by the manoeuvre and soon realized that this indifference was occasioned
by the knowledge that we could not cross Hat Creek, a deep stream with
vertical banks, too broad to be leaped by our horses. We were obliged,
therefore, to halt, and the Indians again made demonstrations of friendship,
some of them even getting into the stream to show that they were at the
ford. Thus reassured, we regained our confidence and boldly crossed the
river in the midst of them. After we had gained the bluff on the other side of
the creek, I looked down into the valley of Pit River, and could plainly see
the camp of the surveying party. Its proximity was the influence which had
doubtless caused the peaceable conduct of the Indians. Probably the only
thing that saved us was their ignorance of our being in their rear, until we
stumbled on them almost within sight of the large party under Williamson.
The Pit River Indians were very hostile at that time, and for many
succeeding years their treachery and cruelty brought misfortune and misery
to the white settlers who ventured their lives in search of home and fortune
in the wild and isolated section over which these savages roamed. Not long
after Williamson's party passed through their country, the Government was
compelled to send into it a considerable force for the purpose of keeping
them under control. The outcome of this was a severe fight—resulting in
the loss of a good many lives—between the hostiles and a party of our
troops under Lieutenant George Crook. It finally ended in the establishment
of a military post in the vicinity of the battle-ground, for the permanent
occupation of the country.
A great load was lifted from my heart when I found myself so near
Williamson's camp, which I joined August 4, 1855, receiving a warm
welcome from the officers. During the afternoon I relieved Lieutenant Hood
of the command of the personal escort, and he was ordered to return, with
twelve of the mounted men, over the trail I had followed. I pointed out to
him on the map the spot where he would find the two men left on the
roadside, and he was directed to take them into Fort Reading. They were
found without difficulty, and carried in to the post. The sick man—Duryea

—whom I had expected never to see again, afterward became the hospital
steward at Fort Yamhill, Oregon, when I was stationed there.
The Indians that I had passed at the ford came to the bluff above the
camp, and arranging themselves in a squatting posture, looked down upon
Williamson's party with longing eyes, in expectation of a feast. They were a
pitiable lot, almost naked, hungry and cadaverous. Indians are always
hungry, but these poor creatures were particularly so, as their usual supply
of food had grown very scarce from one cause and another.
In prosperity they mainly subsisted on fish, or game killed with the bow
and arrow. When these sources failed they lived on grasshoppers, and at this
season the grasshopper was their principal food. In former years salmon
were very abundant in the streams of the Sacramento Valley, and every fall
they took great quantities of these fish and dried them for winter use, but
alluvial mining had of late years defiled the water of the different streams
and driven the fish out. On this account the usual supply of salmon was
very limited. They got some trout high up on the rivers, above the sluices
and rockers of the miners, but this was a precarious source from which to
derive food, as their means of taking the trout were very primitive. They
had neither hooks nor lines, but depended entirely on a contrivance made
from long, slender branches of willow, which grew on the banks of most of
the streams. One of these branches would be cut, and after sharpening the
butt-end to a point, split a certain distance, and by a wedge the prongs
divided sufficiently to admit a fish between. The Indian fisherman would
then slyly put the forked end in the water over his intended victim, and with
a quick dart firmly wedge him between the prongs. When secured there, the
work of landing him took but a moment. When trout were plentiful this
primitive mode of taking them was quite successful, and I have often
known hundreds of pounds to be caught in this way, but when they were
scarce and suspicious the rude method was not rewarded with good results.
The band looking down on us evidently had not had much fish or game
to eat for some time, so when they had made Williamson understand that
they were suffering for food he permitted them to come into camp, and
furnished them with a supply, which they greedily swallowed as fast as it
was placed at their service, regardless of possible indigestion. When they
had eaten all they could hold, their enjoyment was made complete by the
soldiers, who gave them a quantity of strong plug tobacco. This they

smoked incessantly, inhaling all the smoke, so that none of the effect should
be lost. When we abandoned this camp the next day, the miserable wretches
remained in it and collected the offal about the cooks' fires to feast still
more, piecing out the meal, no doubt, with their staple article of food—
grasshoppers.
On the morning of August 5 Lieutenant Hood started back to Fort
Reading, and Lieutenant Williamson resumed his march for the Columbia
River. Our course was up Pit River, by the lower and upper canons, then
across to the Klamath Lakes, then east, along their edge to the upper lake.
At the middle Klamath Lake, just after crossing Lost River and the Natural
Bridge, we met a small party of citizens from Jacksonville, Oregon, looking
for hostile Indians who had committed some depredations in their
neighborhood. From them we learned that the Rogue River Indians in
southern Oregon were on the war-path, and that as the "regular troops up
there were of no account, the citizens had taken matters in hand, and
intended cleaning up the hostiles." They swaggered about our camp,
bragged a good deal, cursed the Indians loudly, and soundly abused the
Government for not giving them better protection. It struck me, however,
that they had not worked very hard to find the hostiles; indeed, it could
plainly be seen that their expedition was a town-meeting sort of affair, and
that anxiety to get safe home was uppermost in their thoughts. The
enthusiasm with which they started had all oozed out, and that night they
marched back to Jacksonville. The next day, at the head of the lake, we
came across an Indian village, and I have often wondered since what would
have been the course pursued by these valiant warriors from Jacksonville
had they gone far enough to get into its vicinity.

When we reached the village the tepees—made of grass—were all
standing, the fires burning and pots boiling—the pots filled with camas and
tula roots—but not an Indian was to be seen. Williamson directed that
nothing in the village should be disturbed; so guards were placed over it to
carry out his instructions and we went into camp just a little beyond. We
had scarcely established ourselves when a very old Indian rose up from the
high grass some distance off, and with peaceable signs approached our
camp, evidently for the purpose of learning whether or not our intentions
were hostile. Williamson told him we were friendly; that we had passed
through his village without molesting it, that we had put a guard there to
secure the property his people had abandoned in their fright, and that they
might come back in safety. The old man searchingly eyed everything
around for some little time, and gaining confidence from the peaceable
appearance of the men, who were engaged in putting up the tents and
preparing their evening meal, he concluded to accept our professions of
friendship, and bring his people in. Going out about half a mile from the
village he gave a peculiar yell, at which between three and four hundred
Indians arose simultaneously from the ground, and in answer to his signal
came out of the tall grass like a swarm of locusts and soon overran our
camp in search of food, for like all Indians they were hungry. They too,
proved to be Pit Rivers, and were not less repulsive than those of their tribe
we had met before. They were aware of the hostilities going on between the
Rogue Rivers and the whites, but claimed that they had not taken any part
in them. I question if they had, but had our party been small, I fear we
should have been received at their village in a very different manner.
From the upper Klamath Lake we marched over the divide and down the
valley of the Des Chutes River to a point opposite the mountains called the
Three Sisters. Here, on September 23, the party divided, Williamson and I
crossing through the crater of the Three Sisters and along the western slope
of the Cascade Range, until we struck the trail on McKenzie River, which
led us into the Willamette Valley not far from Eugene City. We then

marched down the Willamette Valley to Portland, Oregon, where we arrived
October 9, 1855.
The infantry portion of the command, escorting Lieutenant Henry L.
Abbot, followed farther down the Des Chutes River, to a point opposite
Mount Hood, from which it came into the Willamette Valley and then
marched to Portland. At Portland we all united, and moving across the point
between the Willamette and Columbia rivers, encamped opposite Fort
Vancouver, on the south bank of the latter stream, on the farm of an old
settler named Switzler, who had located there many years before.

CHAPTER IV.

"OLD RED"—SKILLFUL SHOOTING—YAKIMA—WAR—A
LUDICROUS MISTAKE—"CUT-MOUTH JOHN'S" ENCOUNTER—
FATHER PANDOZA'S MISSION—A SNOW-STORM—FAILURE OF
THE EXPEDITION.
Our camp on the Columbia, near Fort Vancouver, was beautifully situated
on a grassy sward close to the great river; and—as little duty was required
of us after so long a journey, amusement of one kind or another, and an
interchange of visits with the officers at the post, filled in the time
acceptably. We had in camp an old mountaineer guide who had
accompanied us on the recent march, and who had received the sobriquet of
"Old Red," on account of the shocky and tangled mass of red hair and
beard, which covered his head and face so completely that only his eyes
could be seen. His eccentricities constantly supplied us with a variety of
amusements. Among the pastimes he indulged in was one which exhibited
his skill with the rifle, and at the same time protected the camp from the
intrusions and ravages of a drove of razor-backed hogs which belonged to
Mr. Switzler. These hogs were frequent visitors, and very destructive to our
grassy sward, rooting it up in front of our tents and all about us; in pursuit
of bulbous roots and offal from the camp. Old Red conceived the idea that it
would be well to disable the pigs by shooting off the tips of their snouts,
and he proceeded to put his conception into execution, and continued it
daily whenever the hogs made their appearance. Of course their owner
made a row about it; but when Old Red daily settled for his fun by paying
liberally with gold-dust from some small bottles of the precious metal in his
possession, Switzler readily became contented, and I think even encouraged
the exhibitions—of skill.
It was at this period (October, 1855) that the Yakima Indian war broke
out, and I was detached from duty with the exploring party and required by
Major Gabriel J. Rains, then commanding the district, to join an expedition
against the Yakimas. They had some time before killed their agent, and in
consequence a force under Major Granville O. Haller had been sent out

from the Dalles of the Columbia to chastise them; but the expedition had
not been successful; in fact, it had been driven back, losing a number of
men and two mountain howitzers.
The object of the second expedition was to retrieve this disaster. The
force was composed of a small body of regular troops, and a regiment of
Oregon mounted volunteers under command of Colonel James W. Nesmith
—subsequently for several years United States Senator from Oregon. The
whole force was under the command of Major Rains, Fourth Infantry, who,
in order that he might rank Nesmith, by some hocus-pocus had been made a
brigadier-general, under an appointment from the Governor of Washington
Territory.
We started from the Dalles October 30, under conditions that were not
conducive to success. The season was late for operations; and worse still,
the command was not in accord with the commanding officer, because of
general belief in his incompetency, and on account of the fictitious rank he
assumed. On the second day out I struck a small body of Indians with my
detachment of dragoons, but was unable to do them any particular injury
beyond getting possession of a large quantity of their winter food, which
their hurried departure compelled them to abandon. This food consisted
principally of dried salmon-pulverized and packed in sacks made of grass-
dried huckleberries, and dried camas; the latter a bulbous root about the size
of a small onion, which, when roasted and ground, is made into bread by
the Indians and has a taste somewhat like cooked chestnuts.
Our objective point was Father Pandoza's Mission, in the Yakima Valley,
which could be reached by two different routes, and though celerity of
movement was essential, our commanding officer "strategically" adopted
the longer route, and thus the Indians had ample opportunity to get away
with their horses, cattle, women and children, and camp property.
After the encounter which I just now referred to, the command, which
had halted to learn the results of my chase, resumed its march to and
through the Klikitat canon, and into the lower Yakima Valley, in the
direction of the Yakima River. I had charge at the head of the column as it
passed through the canon, and on entering the valley beyond, saw in the
distance five or six Indian scouts, whom I pressed very closely, until after a
run of several miles they escaped across the Yakima River.

The soil in the valley was light and dry, and the movement of animals
over it raised great clouds of dust, that rendered it very difficult to
distinguish friend from foe; and as I was now separated from the main
column a considerable distance, I deemed it prudent to call a halt until we
could discover the direction taken by the principal body of the Indians. We
soon learned that they had gone up the valley, and looking that way, we
discovered a column of alkali dust approaching us, about a mile distant,
interposing between my little detachment and the point where I knew
General Rains intended to encamp for the night. After hastily consulting
with Lieutenant Edward H. Day, of the Third United States Artillery, who
was with me, we both concluded that the dust was caused by a body of the
enemy which had slipped in between us and our main force. There seemed
no alternative left us but to get back to our friends by charging through
these Indians; and as their cloud of dust was much larger than ours, this
appeared a desperate chance. Preparations to charge were begun, however,
but, much to our surprise, before they were completed the approaching
party halted for a moment and then commenced to retreat. This calmed the
throbbing of our hearts, and with a wild cheer we started in a hot pursuit,
that continued for about two miles, when to our great relief we discovered
that we were driving into Rains's camp a squadron of Nesmith's battalion of
Oregon volunteers that we had mistaken for Indians, and who in turn
believed us to be the enemy. When camp was reached, we all indulged in a
hearty laugh over the affair, and at the fright each party had given the other.
The explanations which ensued proved that the squadron of volunteers had
separated from the column at the same time that I had when we debouched
from the canon, and had pursued an intermediate trail through the hills,
which brought it into the valley of the Yakima at a point higher up the river
than where I had struck it.
Next day we resumed our march up the valley, parallel to the Yakima.
About 1 o'clock we saw a large body of Indians on the opposite side of the
river, and the general commanding made up his mind to cross and attack
them. The stream was cold, deep, and swift, still I succeeded in passing my
dragoons over safely, but had hardly got them well on the opposite bank
when the Indians swooped down upon us. Dismounting my men, we
received the savages with a heavy fire, which brought them to a halt with
some damage and more or less confusion.

General Rains now became very much excited and alarmed about me,
and endeavored to ford the swift river with his infantry and artillery, but
soon had to abandon the attempt, as three or four of the poor fellows were
swept off their feet and drowned. Meantime Nesmith came up with his
mounted force, crossed over, and joined me.
The Indians now fell back to a high ridge, on the crest of which they
marched and countermarched, threatening to charge down its face. Most of
them were naked, and as their persons were painted in gaudy colors and
decorated with strips of red flannel, red blankets and gay war-bonnets, their
appearance presented a scene of picturesque barbarism, fascinating but
repulsive. As they numbered about six hundred, the chances of whipping
them did not seem overwhelmingly in our favor, yet Nesmith and I
concluded we would give them a little fight, provided we could engage
them without going beyond the ridge. But all our efforts were in vain, for as
we advanced they retreated, and as we drew back they reappeared and
renewed their parade and noisy demonstrations, all the time beating their
drums and yelling lustily. They could not be tempted into a fight where we
desired it, however, and as we felt unequal to any pursuit beyond the ridge
without the assistance of the infantry and artillery, we re-crossed the river
and encamped with Rains. It soon became apparent that the noisy
demonstrations of the Indians were intended only as a blind to cover the
escape of their women and children to a place of safety in the mountains.
Next morning we took up our march without crossing the river; and as
our route would lead us by the point on the opposite bank where the Indians
had made their picturesque display the day before, they at an early hour
came over to our side, and rapidly moved ahead of us to some distant hills,
leaving in our pathway some of the more venturesome young braves, who
attempted, to retard our advance by opening fire at long range from
favorable places where they lay concealed. This fire did us little harm, but it
had the effect of making our progress so slow that the patience of every one
but General Rains was well-nigh exhausted.
About 2 o'clock in the afternoon we arrived well up near the base of the
range of hills, and though it was growing late we still had time to
accomplish something, but our commanding officer decided that it was best
to go into camp, and make a systematic attack next morning. I proposed that
he let me charge with my dragoons through the narrow canon where the

river broke through the range, while the infantry should charge up the hill
and drive the enemy from the top down on the other side. In this way I
thought we might possibly catch some of the fugitives, but his extreme
caution led him to refuse the suggestion, so we pitched our tents out of
range of their desultory fire, but near enough to observe plainly their
menacing and tantalizing exhibitions of contempt.
In addition to firing occasionally, they called us all sorts of bad names,
made indecent gestures, and aggravated us, so that between 3 and 4 o'clock
in the afternoon, by an inexplicable concert of action, and with a serious
breach of discipline, a large number of the men and many of the officers
broke en masse from the camp with loud yells and charged the offending
savages. As soon as this mob got within musket-shot they opened fire on
the Indians, who ran down the other face of the ridge without making the
slightest resistance. The hill was readily taken by this unmilitary
proceeding, and no one was hurt on either side, but as Rains would not
permit it to be held, a large bonfire was lighted on the crest in celebration of
the victory, and then all hands marched back to camp, where they had no
sooner arrived and got settled down than the Indians returned to the summit
of the ridge, seemingly to enjoy the fire that had been so generously built
for their benefit, and with renewed taunts and gestures continued to insult
us.
Our camp that night was strongly picketed, and when we awoke in the
morning the Indians still occupied their position on the hill. At daylight we
advanced against them, two or three companies of infantry moving forward
to drive them from the summit, while our main column passed through the
canon into the upper Yakima Valley led by my dragoons, who were not
allowed to charge into the gorge, as the celerity of such a movement might
cause the tactical combination to fail.
As we passed slowly and cautiously through the canon the Indians ran
rapidly away, and when we reached the farther end they had entirely
disappeared from our front, except one old fellow, whose lame horse
prevented him keeping up with the main body. This presented an
opportunity for gaining results which all thought should not be lost, so our
guide, an Indian named "Cut-mouth John," seized upon it, and giving hot
chase, soon, overtook the poor creature, whom he speedily killed without

much danger to himself, for the fugitive was armed with only an old
Hudson's Bay flint-lock horse-pistol which could not be discharged.
"Cut-mouth John's" engagement began and ended all the fighting that
took place on this occasion, and much disappointment and discontent
followed, Nesmith's mounted force and my dragoons being particularly
disgusted because they had not been "given a chance." During the
remainder of the day we cautiously followed the retreating foe, and late in
the evening went into camp a short distance from Father Pandoza's Mission;
where we were to await a small column of troops under command of
Captain Maurice Maloney, of the Fourth Infantry, that was to join us from
Steilicom by way of the Natchez Pass, and from which no tidings had as yet
been received.
Next morning the first thing I saw when I put my head out from my
blankets was "Cut-mouth John," already mounted and parading himself
through the camp. The scalp of the Indian he had despatched the day before
was tied to the cross-bar of his bridle bit, the hair dangling almost to the
ground, and John was decked out in the sacred vestments of Father
Pandoza, having, long before any one was stirring in camp, ransacked the
log-cabin at the Mission in which the good man had lived. John was at all
times a most repulsive looking individual, a part of his mouth having been
shot away in a fight with Indians near Walla Walla some years before, in
which a Methodist missionary had been killed; but his revolting personal
appearance was now worse than ever, and the sacrilegious use of Father
Pandoza's vestments, coupled with the ghastly scalp that hung from his
bridle, so turned opinion against him that he was soon captured,
dismounted, and his parade brought to an abrupt close, and I doubt whether
he ever after quite reinstated himself in the good graces of the command.
In the course of the day nearly all the men visited the Mission, but as it
had been plundered by the Indians at the outbreak of hostilities, when
Father Pandoza was carried off, little of value was left about it except a
considerable herd of pigs, which the father with great difficulty had
succeeded in accumulating from a very small beginning. The pigs had not
been disturbed by the Indians, but the straggling troops soon disposed of
them, and then turned their attention to the cabbages and potatoes in the
garden, with the intention, no doubt, of dining that day on fresh pork and
fresh vegetables instead of on salt junk and hard bread, which formed their

regular diet on the march. In digging up the potatoes some one discovered
half a keg of powder, which had been buried in the garden by the good
father to prevent the hostile Indians from getting it to use against the whites.
As soon as this was unearthed wild excitement ensued, and a cry arose that
Father Pandoza was the person who furnished powder to the Indians; that
here was the proof; that at last the mysterious means by which the Indians
obtained ammunition was explained—and a rush was made for the mission
building. This was a comfortable log-house of good size, built by the
Indians for a school and church, and attached to one end was the log-cabin
residence of the priest. Its destruction was a matter of but a few moments. A
large heap of dry wood was quickly collected and piled in the building,
matches applied, and the whole Mission, including the priest's house, was
soon enveloped in flames, and burned to the ground before the officers in
camp became aware of the disgraceful plundering in which their men were
engaged.
The commanding officer having received no news from Captain Maloney
during the day, Colonel Nesmith and I were ordered to go to his rescue, as it
was concluded that he had been surrounded by Indians in the Natchez Pass.
We started early the next morning, the snow falling slightly as we set out,
and soon arrived at the eastern mouth of the Natchez Pass. On the way we
noticed an abandoned Indian village, which had evidently not been
occupied for some time. As we proceeded the storm increased, and the
snow-fall became deeper and deeper, until finally our horses could not
travel through it. In consequence we were compelled to give up further
efforts to advance, and obliged to turn back to the abandoned village, where
we encamped for the night. Near night-fall the storm greatly increased, and
our bivouac became most uncomfortable; but spreading my blankets on the
snow and covering them with Indian matting, I turned in and slept with that
soundness and refreshment accorded by nature to one exhausted by fatigue.
When I awoke in the morning I found myself under about two feet of snow,
from which I arose with difficulty, yet grateful that it had kept me warm
during the night.
After a cup of coffee and a little hard bread, it was decided we should
return to the main camp near the Mission, for we were now confident that
Maloney was delayed by the snow, and safe enough on the other side of the
mountains. At all events he was beyond aid from us, for the impassable
snowdrifts could not be overcome with the means in our possession. It

turned out that our suppositions as to the cause of his delay were correct. He
had met with the same difficulties that confronted us, and had been
compelled to go into camp.
Meanwhile valuable time had been lost, and the Indians, with their
families and stock, were well on their way to the Okenagan country, a
region into which we could not penetrate in the winter season. No other
course was therefore left but to complete the dismal failure of the
expedition by returning home, and our commander readily gave the order to
march back to the Dalles by the "short" route over the Yakima Mountains.
As the storm was still unabated, it was evident our march home would be
a most difficult one, and it was deemed advisable to start back at once, lest
we should be blocked up in the mountains by the snows for a period beyond
which our provisions would not last. Relying on the fact that the short route
to the Dalles would lead us over the range at its most depressed point,
where it was hoped the depth of snow was not yet so great as to make the
route impassable, we started with Colonel Nesmith's battalion in advance to
break the road, followed by my dragoons. In the valley we made rapid
progress, but when we reached the mountain every step we took up its side
showed the snow to be growing deeper and deeper. At last Nesmith reached
the summit, and there found a depth of about six feet of snow covering the
plateau in every direction, concealing all signs of the trail so thoroughly that
his guides became bewildered and took the wrong divide. The moment I
arrived at the top my guide—Donald Mc Kay—who knew perfectly the
whole Yakima range, discovered Nesmith's mistake. Word was sent to bring
him back, but as he had already nearly crossed the plateau, considerable
delay occurred before he returned. When he arrived we began anew the
work of breaking a road for the foot troops behind us, my detachment now
in advance. The deep snow made our work extremely laborious, exhausting
men and horses almost to the point of relinquishing the struggle, but our
desperate situation required that we should get down into the valley beyond,
or run the chance of perishing on the mountain in a storm which seemed
unending. About midnight the column reached the valley, very tired and
hungry, but much elated over its escape. We had spent a day of the most
intense anxiety, especially those who had had the responsibility of keeping
to the right trail, and been charged with the hard work of breaking the road
for the infantry and artillery through such a depth of snow.

Our main difficulties were now over, and in due time we reached the
Dalles, where almost everyone connected with the expedition voted it a
wretched failure; indeed, General Rains himself could not think otherwise,
but he scattered far and wide blame for the failure of his combinations.
This, of course, led to criminations and recriminations, which eventuated in
charges of incompetency preferred against him by Captain Edward O. C.
Ord, of the Third Artillery. Rains met the charges with counter-charges
against Ord, whom he accused of purloining Father Pandoza's shoes, when
the soldiers in their fury about the ammunition destroyed the Mission. At
the time of its destruction a rumor of this nature was circulated through
camp, started by some wag, no doubt in jest; for Ord, who was somewhat
eccentric in his habits, and had started on the expedition rather indifferently
shod in carpet-slippers, here came out in a brand-new pair of shoes. Of
course there was no real foundation for such a report, but Rains was not
above small things, as the bringing of this petty accusation attests. Neither
party was ever tried, for General John E. Wool the department commander,
had not at command a sufficient number of officers of appropriate rank to
constitute a court in the case of Rains, and the charges against Ord were
very properly ignored on account of their trifling character.
Shortly after the expedition returned to the Dalles, my detachment was
sent down to Fort Vancouver, and I remained at that post during the winter
of 1855-'56, till late in March.

CHAPTER V.

AN INDIAN CONFEDERATION—MASSACRE AT THE CASCADES
OF THE COLUMBIA—PLAN TO RELIEVE THE BLOCKHOUSE—A
HAZARDOUS FLANK MOVEMENT—A NEW METHOD OF
ESTABLISHING GUILT—EXECUTION OF THE INDIAN
MURDERERS.
The failure of the Haller expedition from lack of a sufficient force, and of
the Rains expedition from the incompetency of its commander, was a great
mortification to the officers and men connected with them, and, taken
together, had a marked effect upon the Indian situation in Oregon and
Washington Territories at that particular era. Besides, it led to further
complications and troubles, for it had begun to dawn upon the Indians that
the whites wanted to come in and dispossess them of their lands and homes,
and the failures of Haller and Rains fostered the belief with the Indians that
they could successfully resist the pressure of civilization.
Acting under these influences, the Spokanes, Walla Wallas, Umatillas,
and Nez Perces cast their lot with the hostiles, and all the savage inhabitants
of the region east of the Cascade Range became involved in a dispute as to
whether the Indians or the Government should possess certain sections of
the country, which finally culminated in the war of 1856.
Partly to meet the situation that was approaching, the Ninth Infantry had
been sent out from the Atlantic coast to Washington Territory, and upon its
arrival at Fort Vancouver encamped in front of the officers' quarters, on the
beautiful parade-ground of that post, and set about preparing for the coming
campaign. The commander, Colonel George Wright, who had been
promoted to the colonelcy of the regiment upon its organization the
previous year, had seen much active duty since his graduation over thirty
years before, serving with credit in the Florida and Mexican wars. For the
three years previous to his assignment to the Ninth Infantry he had been
stationed on the Pacific coast, and the experience he had there acquired,
added to his excellent soldierly qualities, was of much benefit in the active

campaigns in which, during the following years, he was to participate.
Subsequently his career was brought to an untimely close when, nine years
after this period, as he was returning to the scene of his successes, he, in
common with many others was drowned by the wreck of the ill-fated
steamer Brother Jonathan. Colonel Wright took command of the district in
place of Rains, and had been at Vancouver but a short time before he
realized that it would be necessary to fight the confederated tribes east of
the Cascade Range of mountains, in order to disabuse them of the idea that
they were sufficiently strong to cope with the power of the Government. He
therefore at once set about the work of organizing and equipping his troops
for a start in the early spring against the hostile Indians, intending to make
the objective point of his expedition the heart of the Spokane country on the
Upper Columbia River, as the head and front of the confederation was
represented in the person of old Cammiackan, chief of the Spokanes.
The regiment moved from Fort Vancouver by boat, March 25, 1856, and
landed at the small town called the Dalles, below the mouth of the Des
Chutes River at the eastern base of the Cascade Range, and just above
where the Columbia River enters those mountains. This rendezvous was to
be the immediate point of departure, and all the troops composing the
expedition were concentrated there.
On the morning of March 26 the movement began, but the column had
only reached Five Mile Creek when the Yakimas, joined by many young
warriors-free lances from other tribes, made a sudden and unexpected attack
at the Cascades of the Columbia, midway between Vancouver and the
Dalles, killed several citizens, women and children, and took possession of
the Portage by besieging the settlers in their cabins at the Upper Cascades,
and those who sought shelter at the Middle Cascades in the old military
block-house, which had been built some years before as a place of refuge
under just such circumstances. These points held out, and were not
captured, but the landing at the Lower Cascades fell completely into the
hands of the savages. Straggling settlers from the Lower Cascades made
their way down to Fort Vancouver, distant about thirty-six miles, which they
reached that night; and communicated the condition of affairs. As the
necessity for early relief to the settlers and the re-establishment of
communication with the Dalles were apparent, all the force that could be
spared was ordered out, and in consequence I immediately received
directions to go with my detachment of dragoons, numbering about forty

effective men, to the relief of the middle blockhouse, which really meant to
retake the Cascades. I got ready at once, and believing that a piece of
artillery would be of service to me, asked for one, but as there proved to be
no guns at the post, I should have been obliged to proceed without one had
it not been that the regular steamer from San Francisco to Portland was
lying at the Vancouver dock unloading military supplies, and the
commander, Captain Dall, supplied me with the steamer's small iron
cannon, mounted on a wooden platform, which he used in firing salutes at
different ports on the arrival and departure of the vessel. Finding at the
arsenal a supply of solid shot that would fit the gun, I had it put upon the
steamboat Belle, employed to carry my command to the scene of
operations, and started up the Columbia River at 2 A.M. on the morning of
the 27th. We reached the Lower Cascades early in the day, where, selecting
a favorable place for the purpose, I disembarked my men and gun on the
north bank of the river, so that I could send back the steamboat to bring up
any volunteer assistance that in the mean time might have been collected at
Vancouver.
The Columbia River was very high at the time, and the water had backed
up into the slough about the foot of the Lower Cascades to such a degree
that it left me only a narrow neck of firm ground to advance over toward the
point occupied by the Indians. On this neck of land the hostiles had taken
position, as I soon learned by frequent shots, loud shouting, and much
blustering; they, by the most exasperating yells and indecent exhibitions,
daring me to the contest.
After getting well in hand everything connected with my little command,
I advanced with five or six men to the edge of a growth of underbrush to
make a reconnoissance. We stole along under cover of this underbrush until
we reached the open ground leading over the causeway or narrow neck
before mentioned, when the enemy opened fire and killed a soldier near my
side by a shot which, just grazing the bridge of my nose, struck him in the
neck, opening an artery and breaking the spinal cord. He died instantly. The
Indians at once made a rush for the body, but my men in the rear, coming
quickly to the rescue, drove them back; and Captain Doll's gun being now
brought into play, many solid shot were thrown into the jungle where they
lay concealed, with the effect of considerably moderating their impetuosity.
Further skirmishing at long range took place at intervals during the day,
with little gain or loss, however, to either side, for both parties held

positions which could not be assailed in flank, and only the extreme of
rashness in either could prompt a front attack. My left was protected by the
back water driven into the slough by the high stage of the river, and my
right rested secure on the main stream. Between us was only the narrow
neck of land, to cross which would be certain death. The position of the
Indians was almost the exact counterpart of ours.
In the evening I sent a report of the situation back to Vancouver by the
steamboat, retaining a large Hudson's Bay bateau which I had brought up
with me. Examining this I found it would carry about twenty men, and
made up my mind that early next morning I would cross the command to
the opposite or south side of the Columbia River, and make my way up
along the mountain base until I arrived abreast the middle blockhouse,
which was still closely besieged, and then at some favorable point recross to
the north bank to its relief, endeavoring in this manner to pass around and to
the rear of the Indians, whose position confronting me was too strong for a
direct attack. This plan was hazardous, but I believed it could be
successfully carried out if the boat could be taken with me; but should I not
be able to do this I felt that the object contemplated in sending me out
would miserably fail, and the small band cooped up at the block-house
would soon starve or fall a prey to the Indians, so I concluded to risk all the
chances the plan involved.

On the morning of March 28 the savages were still in my front, and after
giving them some solid shot from Captain Dall's gun we slipped down to
the river-bank, and the detachment crossed by means of the Hudson's Bay
boat, making a landing on the opposite shore at a point where the south
channel of the river, after flowing around Bradford's Island, joins the main
stream. It was then about 9 o'clock, and everything had thus far proceeded
favorably, but examination of the channel showed that it would be
impossible to get the boat up the rapids along the mainland, and that
success could only be assured by crossing the south channel just below the
rapids to the island, along the shore of which there was every probability
we could pull the boat through the rocks and swift water until the head of
the rapids was reached, from which point to the block-house there was
smooth water. Telling the men of the embarrassment in which I found
myself, and that if I could get enough of them to man the boat and pull it up
the stream by a rope to the shore we would cross to the island and make the
attempt, all volunteered to go, but as ten men seemed sufficient I selected
that number to accompany me. Before starting, however, I deemed it
prudent to find out if possible what was engaging the attention of the
Indians, who had not yet discovered that we had left their front. I therefore
climbed up the side of the abrupt mountain which skirted the water's edge
until I could see across the island. From this point I observed the Indians
running horse-races and otherwise enjoying themselves behind the line they
had held against me the day before. The squaws decked out in gay colors,
and the men gaudily dressed in war bonnets, made the scene most
attractive, but as everything looked propitious for the dangerous enterprise
in hand I spent little time watching them. Quickly returning to the boat, I
crossed to the island with my ten men, threw ashore the rope attached to the
bow, and commenced the difficult task of pulling her up the rapids. We got
along slowly at first, but soon striking a camp of old squaws who had been
left on the island for safety, and had not gone over to the mainland to see
the races, we utilized them to our advantage. With unmistakable threats and
signs we made them not only keep quiet, but also give us much needed
assistance in pulling vigorously on the towrope of our boat.

I was laboring under a dreadful strain of mental anxiety during all this
time, for had the Indians discovered what we were about, they could easily
have come over to the island in their canoes, and, by forcing us to take up
our arms to repel their attack, doubtless would have obliged the
abandonment of the boat, and that essential adjunct to the final success of
my plan would have gone down the rapids. Indeed, under such
circumstances, it would have been impossible for ten men to hold out
against the two or three hundred Indians; but the island forming an
excellent screen to our movements, we were not discovered, and when we
reached the smooth water at the upper end of the rapids we quickly crossed
over and joined the rest of the men, who in the meantime had worked their
way along the south bank of the river parallel with us. I felt very grateful to
the old squaws for the assistance they rendered. They worked well under
compulsion, and manifested no disposition to strike for higher wages.
Indeed, I was so much relieved when we had crossed over from the island
and joined the rest of the party, that I mentally thanked the squaws one and
all. I had much difficulty in keeping the men on the main shore from
cheering at our success, but hurriedly taking into the bateau all of them it
could carry, I sent the balance along the southern bank, where the railroad is
now built, until both detachments arrived at a point opposite the block-
house, when, crossing to the north bank, I landed below the blockhouse
some little distance, and returned the boat for the balance of the men, who
joined me in a few minutes.
When the Indians attacked the people at the Cascades on the 26th, word
was sent to Colonel Wright, who had already got out from the Dalles a few
miles on his expedition to the Spokane country. He immediately turned his
column back, and soon after I had landed and communicated with the
beleaguered block-house the advance of his command arrived under
Lieutenant-Colonel Edward J. Steptoe. I reported to Steptoe, and related
what had occurred during the past thirty-six hours, gave him a description
of the festivities that were going on at the lower Cascades, and also
communicated the intelligence that the Yakimas had been joined by the
Cascade Indians when the place was first attacked. I also told him it was my
belief that when he pushed down the main shore the latter tribe without
doubt would cross over to the island we had just left, while the former
would take to the mountains. Steptoe coincided with me in this opinion, and
informing me that Lieutenant Alexander Piper would join my detachment

with a mountain' howitzer, directed me to convey the command to the
island and gobble up all who came over to it.
Lieutenant Piper and I landed on the island with the first boatload, and
after disembarking the howitzer we fired two or three shots to let the
Indians know we had artillery with us, then advanced down the island with
the whole of my command, which had arrived in the mean time; all of the
men were deployed as skirmishers except a small detachment to operate the
howitzer. Near the lower end of the island we met, as I had anticipated, the
entire body of Cascade Indianmen, women, and children—whose homes
were in the vicinity of the Cascades. They were very much frightened and
demoralized at the turn events had taken, for the Yakimas at the approach of
Steptoe had abandoned them, as predicted, and fled to the mountians. The
chief and head-men said they had had nothing to do with the capture of the
Cascades, with the murder of men at the upper landing, nor with the
massacre of men, women, and children near the block-house, and put all the
blame on the Yakimas and their allies. I did not believe this, however, and
to test the truth of their statement formed them all in line with their muskets
in hand. Going up to the first man on the right I accused him of having
engaged in the massacre, but was met by a vigorous denial. Putting my
forefinger into the muzzle of his gun, I found unmistakable signs of its
having been recently discharged. My finger was black with the stains of
burnt powder, and holding it up to the Indian, he had nothing more to say in
the face of such positive evidence of his guilt. A further examination proved
that all the guns were in the same condition. Their arms were at once taken
possession of, and leaving a small, force to look after the women and
children and the very old men, so that there could be no possibility of
escape, I arrested thirteen of the principal miscreants, crossed the river to
the lower landing, and placed them in charge of a strong guard.
Late in the evening the steamboat, which I had sent back to Vancouver,
returned, bringing to my assistance from Vancouver, Captain Henry D.
Wallen's company of the Fourth Infantry and a company of volunteers
hastily organized at Portland, but as the Cascades had already been retaken,
this reinforcement was too late to participate in the affair. The volunteers
from Portland, however, were spoiling for a fight, and in the absence of
other opportunity desired to shoot the prisoners I held (who, they alleged,
had killed a man named Seymour), and proceeded to make their
arrangements to do so, only desisting on being informed that the Indians

were my prisoners, subject to the orders of Colonel Wright, and would be
protected to the last by my detachment. Not long afterward Seymour turned
up safe and sound, having fled at the beginning of the attack on the
Cascades, and hid somewhere in the thick underbrush until the trouble was
over, and then made his way back to the settlement. The next day I turned
my prisoners over to Colonel Wright, who had them marched to the upper
landing of the Cascades, where, after a trial by a military commission, nine
of them were sentenced to death and duly hanged. I did not see them
executed, but was afterward informed that, in the absence of the usual
mechanical apparatus used on such occasions, a tree with a convenient limb
under which two empty barrels were placed, one on top of the other,
furnished a rude but certain substitute. In executing the sentence each
Indian in turn was made to stand on the top barrel, and after the noose was
adjusted the lower barrel was knocked away, and the necessary drop thus
obtained. In this way the whole nine were punished. Just before death they
all acknowledged their guilt by confessing their participation in the
massacre at the block-house, and met their doom with the usual stoicism of
their race.

CHAPTER VI.

MISDIRECTED VENGEANCE—HONORABLE MENTION—
CHANGE OF COMMAND—EDUCATED OXEN—FEEDING THE
INDIANS—PURCHASING A BURYING-GROUND—KNOWING
RATS.
While still encamped at the lower landing, some three or four days after
the events last recounted, Mr. Joseph Meek, an old frontiersman and guide
for emigrant trains through the mountains, came down from the Dalles, on
his way to Vancouver, and stopped at my camp to inquire if an Indian
named Spencer and his family had passed down to Vancouver since my
arrival at the Cascades. Spencer, the head of the family, was a very
influential, peaceable Chinook chief, whom Colonel Wright had taken with
him from Fort Vancouver as an interpreter and mediator with the Spokanes
and other hostile tribes, against which his campaign was directed. He was a
good, reliable Indian, and on leaving Vancouver to join Colonel Wright,
took his family along, to remain with relatives and friends at Fort Dalles
until the return of the expedition. When Wright was compelled to retrace his
steps on account of the capture of the Cascades, this family for some reason
known only to Spencer, was started by him down the river to their home at
Vancouver.
Meek, on seeing the family leave the Dalles, had some misgivings as to
their safe arrival at their destination, because of the excited condition of the
people about the Cascades; but Spencer seemed to think that his own
peaceable and friendly reputation, which was widespread, would protect
them; so he parted from his wife and children with little apprehension as to
their safety. In reply to Meek's question, I stated that I had not seen
Spencer's family, when he remarked, "Well, I fear that they are gone up," a
phrase used in that country in early days to mean that they had been killed. I
questioned him closely, to elicit further information, but no more could be
obtained; for Meek, either through ignorance or the usual taciturnity of his
class, did not explain more fully, and when the steamer that had brought the
reinforcement started down the river, he took passage for Vancouver, to

learn definitely if the Indian family had reached that point. I at once sent to
the upper landing, distant about six miles, to make inquiry in regard to the
matter, and in a little time my messenger returned with the information that
the family had reached that place the day before, and finding that we had
driven the hostiles off, continued their journey on foot toward my camp,
from which point they expected to go by steamer down the river to
Vancouver.
Their non-arrival aroused in me suspicions of foul play, so with all the
men I could spare, and accompanied by Lieutenant William T. Welcker, of
the Ordnance Corps—a warm and intimate friend—I went in search of the
family, deploying the men as skirmishers across the valley, and marching
them through the heavy forest where the ground was covered with fallen
timber and dense underbrush, in order that no point might escape our
attention. The search was continued between the base of the mountain and
the river without finding any sign of Spencer's family, until about 3 o'clock
in the afternoon, when we discovered them between the upper and lower
landing, in a small open space about a mile from the road, all dead—
strangled to death with bits of rope. The party consisted of the mother, two
youths, three girls, and a baby. They had all been killed by white men, who
had probably met the innocent creatures somewhere near the blockhouse,
driven them from the road into the timber, where the cruel murders were
committed without provocation, and for no other purpose than the
gratification of the inordinate hatred of the Indian that has often existed on
the frontier, and which on more than one occasion has failed to distinguish
friend from foe. The bodies lay in a semicircle, and the bits of rope with
which the poor wretches had been strangled to death were still around their
necks. Each piece of rope—the unwound strand of a heavier piece—was
about two feet long, and encircled the neck of its victim with a single knot,
that must have been drawn tight by the murderers pulling at the ends. As
there had not been quite enough rope to answer for all, the babe was
strangled by means of a red silk handkerchief, taken, doubtless, from the
neck of its mother. It was a distressing sight. A most cruel outrage had been
committed upon unarmed people—our friends and allies—in a spirit of
aimless revenge. The perpetrators were citizens living near the middle
block-house, whose wives and children had been killed a few days before
by the hostiles, but who well knew that these unoffending creatures had had
nothing to do with those murders.

In my experience I have been obliged to look upon many cruel scenes in
connection with Indian warfare on the Plains since that day, but the effect of
this dastardly and revolting crime has never been effaced from my memory.
Greater and more atrocious massacres have been committed often by
Indians; their savage nature modifies one's ideas, however, as to the
inhumanity of their acts, but when such wholesale murder as this is done by
whites, and the victims not only innocent, but helpless, no defense can be
made for those who perpetrated the crime, if they claim to be civilized
beings. It is true the people at the Cascades had suffered much, and that
their wives and children had been murdered before their eyes, but to wreak
vengeance on Spencer's unoffending family, who had walked into their
settlement under the protection of a friendly alliance, was an unparalleled
outrage which nothing can justify or extenuate. With as little delay as
possible after the horrible discovery, I returned to camp, had boxes made,
and next day buried the bodies of these hapless victims of misdirected
vengeance.
The summary punishment inflicted on the nine Indians, in their trial and
execution, had a most salutary effect on the confederation, and was the
entering wedge to its disintegration; and though Colonel Wright's campaign
continued during the summer and into the early winter, the subjugation of
the allied bands became a comparatively easy matter after the lesson taught
the renegades who were captured at the Cascades. My detachment did not
accompany Colonel Wright, but remained for some time at the Cascades,
and while still there General Wool came up from San Francisco to take a
look into the condition of things. From his conversation with me in
reference to the affair at the Cascades, I gathered that he was greatly
pleased at the service I had performed, and I afterward found that his report
of my conduct had so favorably impressed General Scott that that
distinguished officer complimented me from the headquarters of the army
in general orders.
General Wool, while personally supervising matters on the Columbia
River, directed a redistribution to some extent of the troops in the district,
and shortly before his return to San Francisco I was ordered with my
detachment of dragoons to take station on the Grande Ronde Indian
Reservation in Yamhill County, Oregon, about twenty-five miles southwest
of Dayton, and to relieve from duty at that point Lieutenant William B.
Hazen—late brigadier-general and chief signal officer—who had

established a camp there some time before. I started for my new station on
April 21, and marching by way of Portland and Oregon City, arrived at
Hazen's camp April 25. The camp was located in the Coast range of
mountains, on the northeast part of the reservation, to which last had been
added a section of country that was afterward known as the Siletz
reservation. The whole body of land set aside went under the general name
of the "Coast reservation," from its skirting the Pacific Ocean for some
distance north of Yaquina Bay, and the intention was to establish within its
bounds permanent homes for such Indians as might be removed to it. In
furtherance of this idea, and to relieve northern California and southwestern
Oregon from the roaming, restless bands that kept the people of those
sections in a state of constant turmoil, many of the different tribes, still
under control but liable to take part in warfare, were removed to the
reservation, so that they might be away from the theatre of hostilities.
When I arrived I found that the Rogue River Indians had just been placed
upon the reservation, and subsequently the Coquille, Klamath, Modocs, and
remnants of the Chinooks were collected there also, the home of the latter
being in the Willamette Valley. The number all told amounted to some
thousands, scattered over the entire Coast reservation, but about fifteen
hundred were located at the Grande Ronde under charge of an agent, Mr.
John F. Miller, a sensible, practical man, who left the entire police control to
the military, and attended faithfully to the duty of settling the Indians in the
work of cultivating the soil.
As the place was to be occupied permanently, Lieutenant Hazen had
begun, before my arrival, the erection of buildings for the shelter of his
command, and I continued the work of constructing the post as laid out by
him. In those days the Government did not provide very liberally for
sheltering its soldiers; and officers and men were frequently forced to eke
out parsimonious appropriations by toilsome work or go without shelter in
most inhospitable regions. Of course this post was no exception to the
general rule, and as all hands were occupied in its construction, and I the
only officer present, I was kept busily employed in supervising matters,
both as commandant and quartermaster, until July, when Captain D. A.
Russell, of the Fourth Infantry, was ordered to take command, and I was
relieved from the first part of my duties.

About this time my little detachment parted from me, being ordered to
join a company of the First Dragoons, commanded by Captain Robert
Williams, as it passed up the country from California by way of Yamhill. I
regretted exceedingly to see them go, for their faithful work and gallant
service had endeared every man to me by the strongest ties. Since I relieved
Lieutenant Hood on Pit River, nearly a twelvemonth before, they had been
my constant companions, and the zeal with which they had responded to
every call I made on them had inspired in my heart a deep affection that
years have not removed. When I relieved Hood—a dragoon officer of their
own regiment—they did not like the change, and I understood that they
somewhat contemptuously expressed this in more ways than one, in order
to try the temper of the new "Leftenant," but appreciative and unremitting
care, together with firm and just discipline, soon quieted all symptoms of
dissatisfaction and overcame all prejudice. The detachment had been made
up of details from the different companies of the regiment in order to give
Williamson a mounted force, and as it was usual, under such circumstances,
for every company commander to shove into the detail he was called upon
to furnish the most troublesome and insubordinate individuals of his
company, I had some difficulty, when first taking command, in controlling
such a medley of recalcitrants; but by forethought for them and their wants,
and a strict watchfulness for their rights and comfort, I was able in a short
time to make them obedient and the detachment cohesive. In the past year
they had made long and tiresome marches, forded swift mountain streams,
constructed rafts of logs or bundles of dry reeds to ferry our baggage, swum
deep rivers, marched on foot to save their worn-out and exhausted animals,
climbed mountains, fought Indians, and in all and everything had done the
best they could for the service and their commander. The disaffected feeling
they entertained when I first assumed command soon wore away, and in its
place came a confidence and respect which it gives me the greatest pleasure
to remember, for small though it was, this was my first cavalry command.
They little thought, when we were in the mountains of California and
Oregon—nor did I myself then dream—that but a few years were to elapse
before it would be my lot again to command dragoons, this time in numbers
so vast as of themselves to compose almost an army.
Shortly after the arrival of Captain Russell a portion of the Indians at the
Grande Ronde reservation were taken down the coast to the Siletz
reservation, and I was transferred temporarily to Fort Haskins, on the latter

reserve, and assigned to the duty of completing it and building a blockhouse
for the police control of the Indians placed there.
While directing this work, I undertook to make a road across the coast
mountains from King's Valley to the Siletz, to shorten the haul between the
two points by a route I had explored. I knew there were many obstacles in
the way, but the gain would be great if we could overcome them, so I set to
work with the enthusiasm of a young path-finder. The point at which the
road was to cross the range was rough and precipitous, but the principal
difficulty in making it would be from heavy timber on the mountains that
had been burned over years and years before, until nothing was left but
limbless trunks of dead trees—firs and pines—that had fallen from time to
time until the ground was matted with huge logs from five to eight feet in
diameter. These could not be chopped with axes nor sawed by any ordinary
means, therefore we had to burn them into suitable lengths, and drag the
sections to either side of the roadway with from four to six yoke of oxen.
The work was both tedious and laborious, but in time perseverance
surmounted all obstacles and the road was finished, though its grades were
very steep. As soon as it was completed, I wished to demonstrate its value
practically, so I started a Government wagon over it loaded with about
fifteen hundred pounds of freight drawn by six yoke of oxen, and escorted
by a small detachment of soldiers. When it had gone about seven miles the
sergeant in charge came back to the post and reported his inability to get
any further. Going out to the scene of difficulty I found the wagon at the
base of a steep hill, stalled. Taking up a whip myself, I directed the men to
lay on their gads, for each man had supplied himself with a flexible hickory
withe in the early stages of the trip, to start the team, but this course did not
move the wagon nor have much effect on the demoralized oxen; but
following as a last resort an example I heard of on a former occasion, that
brought into use the rough language of the country, I induced the oxen to
move with alacrity, and the wagon and contents were speedily carried to the
summit. The whole trouble was at once revealed: the oxen had been broken
and trained by a man who, when they were in a pinch, had encouraged them
by his frontier vocabulary, and they could not realize what was expected of
them under extraordinary conditions until they heard familiar and possibly
profanely urgent phrases. I took the wagon to its destination, but as it was
not brought back, even in all the time I was stationed in that country, I think
comment on the success of my road is unnecessary.

I spent many happy months at Fort Haskins, remaining there until the
post was nearly completed and its garrison increased by the arrival of
Captain F. T. Dent—a brother-in-law of Captain Ulysses S. Grant—with his
company of the Fourth Infantry, in April, 1857. In the summer of 1856, and
while I was still on duty there, the Coquille Indians on the Siletz, and down
near the Yaquina Bay, became, on account of hunger and prospective
starvation, very much excited and exasperated, getting beyond the control
of their agent, and even threatening his life, so a detachment of troops was
sent out to set things to rights, and I took command of it. I took with me
most of the company, and arrived at Yaquina Bay in time to succor the
agent, who for some days had been besieged in a log hut by the Indians and
had almost abandoned hope of rescue.
Having brought with me over the mountains a few head of beef cattle for
the hungry Indians, without thinking of running any great personal risk I
had six beeves killed some little distance from my camp, guarding the meat
with four Soldiers, whom I was obliged to post as sentinels around the
small area on which the carcasses lay. The Indians soon formed a circle
about the sentinels, and impelled by starvation, attempted to take the beef
before it could be equally divided. This was of course resisted, when they
drew their knives—their guns having been previously taken away from
them—and some of the inferior chiefs gave the signal to attack. The
principal chief, Tetootney John, and two other Indians joined me in the
centre of the circle, and protesting that they would die rather than that the
frenzied onslaught should succeed, harangued the Indians until the rest of
the company hastened up from camp and put an end to the disturbance. I
always felt grateful to Tetootney John for his loyalty on this occasion, and
many times afterward aided his family with a little coffee and sugar, but
necessarily surreptitiously, so as not to heighten the prejudices that his
friendly act had aroused among his Indian comrades.
The situation at Yaquina Bay did not seem very safe, notwithstanding the
supply of beef we brought; and the possibility that the starving Indians
might break out was ever present, so to anticipate any further revolt, I called
for more troops. The request was complied with by sending to my
assistance the greater part of my own company ("K")from Fort Yamhill.
The men, inspired by the urgency of our situation, marched more than forty
miles a day, accomplishing the whole distance in so short a period, that I
doubt if the record has ever been beaten. When this reinforcement arrived,

the Indians saw the futility of further demonstrations against their agent,
who they seemed to think was responsible for the insufficiency of food, and
managed to exist with the slender rations we could spare and such
indifferent food as they could pick up, until the Indian Department
succeeded in getting up its regular supplies. In the past the poor things had
often been pinched by hunger and neglect, and at times their only food was
rock oysters, clams and crabs. Great quantities of these shell-fish could be
gathered in the bay near at hand, but the mountain Indians, who had
heretofore lived on the flesh of mammal, did not take kindly to mollusks,
and, indeed, ate the shell-fish only as a last resort.
Crab catching at night on the Yaquina Bay by the coast Indians was a
very picturesque scene. It was mostly done by the squaws and children,
each equipped with a torch in one hand, and a sharp-pointed stick in the
other to take and lift the fish into baskets slung on the back to receive them.
I have seen at times hundreds of squaws and children wading about in
Yaquina Bay taking crabs in this manner, and the reflection by the water of
the light from the many torches, with the movements of the Indians while at
work, formed a weird and diverting picture of which we were never tired.
Not long after the arrival of the additional troops from Yamhill, it became
apparent that the number of men at Yaquina Bay would have to be reduced,
so in view of this necessity, it was deemed advisable to build a block-house
for the better protection of the agents and I looked about for suitable ground
on which to erect it. Nearly all around the bay the land rose up from the
beach very abruptly, and the only good site that could be found was some
level ground used as the burial-place of the Yaquina Bay Indians—a small
band of fish-eating people who had lived near this point on the coast for
ages. They were a robust lot, of tall and well-shaped figures, and were
called in the Chinook tongue "salt chuck," which means fish-eaters, or
eaters of food from the salt water. Many of the young men and women were
handsome in feature below the forehead, having fine eyes, aquiline noses
and good mouths, but, in conformity with a long-standing custom, all had
flat heads, which gave them a distorted and hideous appearance,
particularly some of the women, who went to the extreme of fashion and
flattened the head to the rear in a sharp horizontal ridge by confining it
between two boards, one running back from the forehead at an angle of
about forty degrees, and the other up perpendicularly from the back of the
neck. When a head had been shaped artistically the dusky maiden owner

was marked as a belle, and one could become reconciled to it after a time,
but when carelessness and neglect had governed in the adjustment of the
boards, there probably was nothing in the form of a human being on the
face of the earth that appeared so ugly.
It was the mortuary ground of these Indians that occupied the only level
spot we could get for the block-house. Their dead were buried in canoes,
which rested in the crotches of forked sticks a few feet above-ground. The
graveyard was not large, containing probably from forty to fifty canoes in a
fair state of preservation. According to the custom of all Indian tribes on the
Pacific coast, when one of their number died all his worldly effects were
buried with him, so that the canoes were filled with old clothes, blankets,
pieces of calico and the like, intended for the use of the departed in the
happy hunting grounds.
I made known to the Indians that we would have to take this piece of
ground for the blockhouse. They demurred at first, for there is nothing more
painful to an Indian than disturbing his dead, but they finally consented to
hold a council next day on the beach, and thus come to some definite
conclusion. Next morning they all assembled, and we talked in the Chinook
language all day long, until at last they gave in, consenting, probably, as
much because they could not help themselves, as for any other reason. It
was agreed that on the following day at 12 o'clock, when the tide was going
out, I should take my men and place the canoes in the bay, and let them
float out on the tide across the ocean to the happy hunting-grounds:
At that day there existed in Oregon in vast numbers a species of wood-
rat, and our inspection of the graveyard showed that the canoes were thickly
infested with them. They were a light gray animal, larger than the common
gray squirrel, with beautiful bushy tails, which made them strikingly
resemble the squirrel, but in cunning and deviltry they were much ahead of
that quick-witted rodent. I have known them to empty in one night a keg of
spikes in the storehouse in Yamhill, distributing them along the stringers of
the building, with apparently no other purpose than amusement. We
anticipated great fun watching the efforts of these rats to escape the next
day when the canoes should be launched on the ocean, and I therefore
forbade any of the command to visit the graveyard in the interim, lest the
rats should be alarmed. I well knew that they would not be disturbed by the
Indians, who held the sacred spot in awe. When the work of taking down

the canoes and carrying them to the water began, expectation was on tiptoe,
but, strange as it may seem, not a rat was to be seen. This unexpected
development was mystifying. They had all disappeared; there was not one
in any of the canoes, as investigation proved, for disappointment instigated
a most thorough search. The Indians said the rats understood Chinook, and
that as they had no wish to accompany the dead across the ocean to the
happy hunting-grounds, they took to the woods for safety. However that
may be, I have no doubt that the preceding visits to the burial-ground, and
our long talk of the day before, with the unusual stir and bustle, had so
alarmed the rats that, impelled, by their suspicious instincts, they fled a
danger, the nature of which they could not anticipate, but which they felt to
be none the less real and impending.

CHAPTER VII.

LEARNING THE CHINOOK LANGUAGE—STRANGE INDIAN
CUSTOMS—THEIR DOCTORS —SAM PATCH—THE MURDER OF A
WOMAN—IN A TIGHT PLACE—SURPRISING THE INDIANS—
CONFLICTING REPORTS OF THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN—
SECESSION QUESTION IN CALIFORNIA—APPOINTED A CAPTAIN
—TRANSFERRED TO THE EAST.
The troubles at the Siletz and Yaquina Bay were settled without further
excitement by the arrival in due time of plenty of food, and as the buildings,
at Fort Haskins were so near completion that my services as quartermaster
were no longer needed, I was ordered to join my own company at Fort
Yamhill, where Captain Russell was still in command. I returned to that
place in May, 1857, and at a period a little later, in consequence of the close
of hostilities in southern Oregon, the Klamaths and Modocs were sent back
to their own country, to that section in which occurred, in 1873, the
disastrous war with the latter tribe. This reduced considerably the number of
Indians at the Grande Ronde, but as those remaining were still somewhat
unruly, from the fact that many questions requiring adjustment were
constantly arising between the different bands, the agent and the officers at
the post were kept pretty well occupied. Captain Russell assigned to me the
special work of keeping up the police control, and as I had learned at an
early day to speak Chinook (the "court language" among the coast tribes)
almost as well as the Indians themselves, I was thereby enabled to steer my
way successfully on many critical occasions.
For some time the most disturbing and most troublesome element we had
was the Rogue River band. For three or four years they had fought our
troops obstinately, and surrendered at the bitter end in the belief that they
were merely overpowered, not conquered. They openly boasted to the other
Indians that they could whip the soldiers, and that they did not wish to
follow the white man's ways, continuing consistently their wild habits,
unmindful of all admonitions. Indeed, they often destroyed their household
utensils, tepees and clothing, and killed their horses on the graves of the

dead, in the fulfillment of a superstitious custom, which demanded that they
should undergo, while mourning for their kindred, the deepest privation in a
property sense. Everything the loss of which would make them poor was
sacrificed on the graves of their relatives or distinguished warriors, and as
melancholy because of removal from their old homes caused frequent
deaths, there was no lack of occasion for the sacrifices. The widows and
orphans of the dead warriors were of course the chief mourners, and
exhibited their grief in many peculiar ways. I remember one in particular
which was universally practiced by the near kinsfolk. They would crop their
hair very close, and then cover the head with a sort of hood or plaster of
black pitch, the composition being clay, pulverized charcoal, and the
resinous gum which exudes from the pine-tree. The hood, nearly an inch in
thickness, was worn during a period of mourning that lasted through the
time it would take nature, by the growth of the hair, actually to lift from the
head the heavy covering of pitch after it had become solidified and hard as
stone. It must be admitted that they underwent considerable discomfort in
memory of their relatives. It took all the influence we could bring to bear to
break up these absurdly superstitious practices, and it looked as if no
permanent improvement could be effected, for as soon as we got them to
discard one, another would be invented. When not allowed to burn down
their tepees or houses, those poor souls who were in a dying condition
would be carried out to the neighboring hillsides just before dissolution, and
there abandoned to their sufferings, with little or no attention, unless the
placing under their heads of a small stick of wood—with possibly some
laudable object, but doubtless great discomfort to their victim—might be
considered such.
To uproot these senseless and monstrous practices was indeed most
difficult. The most pernicious of all was one which was likely to bring
about tragic results. They believed firmly in a class of doctors among their
people who professed that they could procure the illness of an individual at
will, and that by certain incantations they could kill or cure the sick person.
Their faith in this superstition was so steadfast that there was no doubting
its sincerity, many indulging at times in the most trying privations, that their
relatives might be saved from death at the hands of the doctors. I often
talked with them on the subject, and tried to reason them out of the
superstitious belief, defying the doctors to kill me, or even make me ill; but
my talks were unavailing, and they always met my arguments with the

remark that I was a white man, of a race wholly different from the red man,
and that that was the reason the medicine of the doctors would not affect
me. These villainous doctors might be either men or women, and any one of
them finding an Indian ill, at once averred that his influence was the cause,
offering at the same time to cure the invalid for a fee, which generally
amounted to about all the ponies his family possessed. If the proposition
was accepted and the fee paid over, the family, in case the man died, was to
have indemnity through the death of the doctor, who freely promised that
they might take his life in such event, relying on his chances of getting
protection from the furious relatives by fleeing to the military post till time
had so assuaged their grief that matters could be compromised or settled by
a restoration of a part of the property, when the rascally leeches could again
resume their practice. Of course the services of a doctor were always
accepted when an Indian fell ill; otherwise the invalid's death would surely
ensue, brought about by the evil influence that was unpropitiated. Latterly it
had become quite the thing, when a patient died, for the doctor to flee to our
camp—it was so convenient and so much safer than elsewhere—and my
cellar was a favorite place of refuge from the infuriated friends of the
deceased.
Among the most notable of these doctors was an Indian named Sam
Patch, who several times sought asylum in any cellar, and being a most
profound diplomat, managed on each occasion and with little delay to
negotiate a peaceful settlement and go forth in safety to resume the practice
of his nefarious profession. I often hoped he would be caught before
reaching the post, but he seemed to know intuitively when the time had
come to take leg-bail, for his advent at the garrison generally preceded by
but a few hours the death of some poor dupe.
Finally these peculiar customs brought about the punishment of a noted
doctress of the Rogue River tribe, a woman who was constantly working in
this professional way, and who had found a victim of such prominence
among the Rogue Rivers that his unlooked for death brought down on her
the wrath of all. She had made him so ill, they believed, as to bring him to
death's door notwithstanding the many ponies that had been given her to
cease the incantations, and it was the conviction of all that she had finally
caused the man's death from some ulterior and indiscernible motive. His
relatives and friends then immediately set about requiting her with the just
penalties of a perfidious breach of contract. Their threats induced her instant

flight toward my house for the usual protection, but the enraged friends of
the dead man gave hot chase, and overtook the witch just inside the limits
of the garrison, where, on the parade-ground, in sight of the officers'
quarters, and before any one could interfere, they killed her. There were
sixteen men in pursuit of the doctress, and sixteen gun-shot wounds were
found in her body when examined by the surgeon of the post. The killing of
the woman was a flagrant and defiant outrage committed in the teeth of the
military authority, yet done so quickly that we could not prevent it. This
necessitated severe measures, both to allay the prevailing excitement and to
preclude the recurrence of such acts. The body was cared for, and delivered
to the relatives the next day for burial, after which Captain Russell directed
me to take such steps as would put a stop to the fanatical usages that had
brought about this murderous occurrence, for it was now seen that if timely
measures were not taken to repress them, similar tragedies would surely
follow.
Knowing all the men of the Rogue River tribe, and speaking fluently the
Chinook tongue, which they all understood, I went down to their village the
following day, after having sent word to the tribe that I wished to have a
council with them. The Indians all met me in council, as I had desired, and I
then told them that the men who had taken part in shooting the woman
would have to be delivered up for punishment. They were very stiff with me
at the interview, and with all that talent for circumlocution and diplomacy
with which the Indian is lifted, endeavored to evade my demands and delay
any conclusion. But I was very positive, would hear of no compromise
whatever, and demanded that my terms be at once complied with. No one
was with me but a sergeant of my company, named Miller, who held my
horse, and as the chances of an agreement began to grow remote, I became
anxious for our safety. The conversation waxing hot and the Indians
gathering close in around me, I unbuttoned the flap of my pistol holster, to
be ready for any emergency. When the altercation became most bitter I put
my hand to my hip to draw my pistol, but discovered it was gone—stolen
by one of the rascals surrounding me. Finding myself unarmed, I modified
my tone and manner to correspond with my helpless condition, thus myself
assuming the diplomatic side in the parley, in order to gain time. As soon as
an opportunity offered, and I could, without too much loss of self-respect,
and without damaging my reputation among the Indians, I moved out to
where the sergeant held my horse, mounted, and crossing the Yamhill River

close by, called back in Chinook from the farther bank that "the sixteen men
who killed the woman must be delivered up, and my six-shooter also." This
was responded to by contemptuous laughter, so I went back to the military
post somewhat crestfallen, and made my report of the turn affairs had taken,
inwardly longing for another chance to bring the rascally Rogue Rivers to
terms.
When I had explained the situation to Captain Russell, he thought that we
could not, under any circumstances, overlook this defiant conduct of the
Indians, since, unless summarily punished, it would lead to even more
serious trouble in the future. I heartily seconded this proposition, and gladly
embracing the opportunity it offered, suggested that if he would give me
another chance, and let me have the effective force of the garrison,
consisting of about fifty men, I would chastise the Rogue Rivers without
fail, and that the next day was all the time I required to complete
arrangements. He gave me the necessary authority, and I at once set to work
to bring about a better state of discipline on the reservation, and to put an
end to the practices of the medicine men (having also in view the recovery
of my six-shooter and self-respect), by marching to the village and taking
the rebellious Indians by force.
In the tribe there was an excellent woman called Tighee Mary (Tighee in
Chinook means chief), who by right of inheritance was a kind of queen of
the Rogue Rivers. Fearing that the insubordinate conduct of the Indians
would precipitate further trouble, she came early the following morning to
see me and tell me of the situation Mary informed me that she had done all
in her power to bring the Indians to reason, but without avail, and that they
were determined to fight rather than deliver up the sixteen men who had
engaged in the shooting. She also apprised me of the fact that they had
taken up a position on the Yamhill River, on the direct road between the
post and village, where, painted and armed for war, they were awaiting
attack.
On this information I concluded it would be best to march to the village
by a circuitous route instead of directly, as at first intended, so I had the
ferry-boat belonging to the post floated about a mile and a half down the
Yamhill River and there anchored. At 11 o'clock that night I marched my
fifty men, out of the garrison, in a direction opposite to that of the point
held by the Indians, and soon reached the river at the ferryboat. Here I

ferried the party over with little delay, and marched them along the side of
the mountain, through underbrush and fallen timber, until, just before
daylight, I found that we were immediately in rear of the village, and thence
in rear, also, of the line occupied by the refractory Indians, who were
expecting to meet me on the direct road from the post. Just at break of day
we made a sudden descent upon the village and took its occupants
completely by surprise, even capturing the chief of the tribe, "Sam," who
was dressed in all his war toggery, fully armed and equipped, in anticipation
of a fight on the road where his comrades were in position. I at once put
Sam under guard, giving orders to kill him instantly if the Indians fired a
shot; then forming my line on the road beyond the edge of the village, in
rear of the force lying in wait for a front attack, we moved forward. When
the hostile party realized that they were completely cut off from the village,
they came out from their stronghold on the river and took up a line in my
front, distant about sixty yards with the apparent intention of resisting to the
last.
As is usual with Indians when expecting a fight, they were nearly naked,
fantastically painted with blue clay, and hideously arrayed in war bonnets.
They seemed very belligerent, brandishing their muskets in the air, dancing
on one foot, calling us ugly names, and making such other demonstrations
of hostility, that it seemed at first that nothing short of the total destruction
of the party could bring about the definite settlement that we were bent on.
Still, as it was my desire to bring them under subjection without loss of life,
if possible, I determined to see what result would follow when they learned
that their chief was at our mercy. So, sending Sam under guard to the front,
where he could be seen, informing them that he would be immediately shot
if they fired upon us, and aided by the cries and lamentations of the women
of the village, who deprecated any hostile action by either party, I soon
procured a parley.
The insubordinate Indians were under command of "Joe," Sam's brother,
who at last sent me word that he wanted to see me, and we met between our
respective lines. I talked kindly to him, but was firm in my demand that the
men who killed the woman must be given up and my six-shooter returned.
His reply was he did not think it could be done, but he would consult his
people. After the consultation, he returned and notified me that fifteen
would surrender and the six-shooter would be restored, and further, that we
could kill the sixteenth man, since the tribe wished to get rid of him

anyhow, adding that he was a bad Indian, whose bullet no doubt had given
the woman her death wound. He said that if I assented to this arrangement,
he would require all of his people except the objectionable man to run to the
right of his line at a preconcerted signal. The bad Indian would be ordered
to stand fast on the extreme left, and we could open fire on him as his
comrades fell away to the right. I agreed to the proposition, and gave Joe
fifteen minutes to execute his part of it. We then returned to our respective
forces, and a few minutes later the fifteen ran to the right flank as agreed
upon, and we opened fire on the one Indian left standing alone, bringing
him down in his tracks severely wounded by a shot through the shoulder.
While all this was going on, the other bands of the reservation, several
thousand strong, had occupied the surrounding hills for the purpose of
witnessing the fight, for as the Rogue Rivers had been bragging for some
time that they could whip the soldiers, these other Indians had come out to
see it done. The result, however, disappointed the spectators, and the Rogue
Rivers naturally lost caste. The fifteen men now came in and laid down
their arms (including my six-shooter) in front of us as agreed, but I
compelled them to take the surrendered guns up again and carry them to the
post, where they were deposited in the block-house for future security. The
prisoners were ironed with ball and chain, and made to work at the post
until their rebellious spirit was broken; and the wounded man was
correspondingly punished after he had fully recovered. An investigation as
to why this man had been selected as the offering by which Joe and his
companions expected to gain immunity, showed that the fellow was really a
most worthless character, whose death even would have been a benefit to
the tribe. Thus it seemed that they had two purposes in view—the one to
propitiate me and get good terms, the other to rid themselves of a vagabond
member of the tribe.
The punishment of these sixteen Indians by ball and chain ended all
trouble with the Rogue River tribe. The disturbances arising from the
incantations of the doctors and doctresses, and the practice of killing horses
and burning all worldly property on the graves of those who died, were
completely suppressed, and we made with little effort a great stride toward
the civilization of these crude and superstitious people, for they now began
to recognize the power of the Government. In their management afterward a
course of justice and mild force was adopted, and unvaryingly applied.
They were compelled to cultivate their land, to attend church, and to send

their children to school. When I saw them, fifteen years later, transformed
into industrious and substantial farmers, with neat houses, fine cattle,
wagons and horses, carrying their grain, eggs, and butter to market and
bringing home flour, coffee, sugar, and calico in return, I found abundant
confirmation of my early opinion that the most effectual measures for
lifting them from a state of barbarism would be a practical supervision at
the outset, coupled with a firm control and mild discipline.
In all that was done for these Indians Captain Russell's judgment and
sound, practical ideas were the inspiration. His true manliness, honest and
just methods, together with the warm-hearted interest he took in all that
pertained to matters of duty to his Government, could not have produced
other than the best results, in what position soever he might have been
placed. As all the lovable traits of his character were constantly manifested,
I became most deeply attached to him, and until the day of his death in
1864, on the battle-field of Opequan, in front of Winchester, while gallantly
leading his division under my command, my esteem and affection were
sustained and intensified by the same strong bonds that drew me to him in
these early days in Oregon.
After the events just narrated I continued on duty at the post of Yamhill,
experiencing the usual routine of garrison life without any incidents of
much interest, down to the breaking out of the war of the rebellion in April,
1861. The news of the firing on Fort Sumter brought us an excitement
which overshadowed all else, and though we had no officers at the post who
sympathized with the rebellion, there were several in our regiment—the
Fourth Infantry—who did, and we were considerably exercised as to the
course they might pursue, but naturally far more so concerning the
disposition that would be made of the regiment during the conflict.
In due time orders came for the regiment to go East, and my company
went off, leaving me, however—a second lieutenant—in command of the
post until I should be relieved by Captain James J. Archer, of the Ninth
Infantry, whose company was to take the place of the old garrison. Captain
Archer, with his company of the Ninth, arrived shortly after, but I had been
notified that he intended to go South, and his conduct was such after
reaching the post that I would not turn over the command to him for fear he
might commit some rebellious act. Thus a more prolonged detention
occurred than I had at first anticipated. Finally the news came that he had

tendered his resignation and been granted a leave of absence for sixty days.
On July 17 he took his departure, but I continued in command till
September 1, when Captain Philip A. Owen, of the Ninth Infantry, arrived
and, taking charge, gave me my release.
From the day we received the news of the firing on Sumter until I started
East, about the first of September, 1861, I was deeply solicitous as to the
course of events, and though I felt confident that in the end the just cause of
the Government must triumph, yet the thoroughly crystallized organization
which the Southern Confederacy quickly exhibited disquieted me very
much, for it alone was evidence that the Southern leaders had long
anticipated the struggle and prepared for it. It was very difficult to obtain
direct intelligence of the progress of the war. Most of the time we were in
the depths of ignorance as to the true condition of affairs, and this tended to
increase our anxiety. Then, too, the accounts of the conflicts that had taken
place were greatly exaggerated by the Eastern papers, and lost nothing in
transition. The news came by the pony express across the Plains to San
Francisco, where it was still further magnified in republishing, and gained
somewhat in Southern bias. I remember well that when the first reports
reached us of, the battle of Bull Run—that sanguinary engagement—it was
stated that each side had lost forty thousand men in killed and wounded,
and none were reported missing nor as having run away. Week by week
these losses grew less, until they finally shrunk into the hundreds, but the
vivid descriptions of the gory conflict were not toned down during the
whole summer.
We received our mail at Yamhill only once a week, and then had to bring
it from Portland, Oregon, by express. On the day of the week that our
courier, or messenger, was expected back from Portland, I would go out
early in the morning to a commanding point above the post, from which I
could see a long distance down the road as it ran through the valley of the
Yamhill, and there I would watch with anxiety for his coming, longing for
good news; for, isolated as I had been through years spent in the wilderness,
my patriotism was untainted by politics, nor had it been disturbed by any
discussion of the questions out of which the war grew, and I hoped for the
success of the Government above all other considerations. I believe I was
also uninfluenced by any thoughts of the promotion that might result to me
from the conflict, but, out of a sincere desire to contribute as much as I
could to the preservation of the Union, I earnestly wished to be at the seat

of war, and feared it might end before I could get East. In no sense did I
anticipate what was to happen to me afterward, nor that I was to gain any
distinction from it. I was ready to do my duty to the best of my ability
wherever I might be called, and I was young, healthy, insensible to fatigue,
and desired opportunity, but high rank was so distant in our service that not
a dream of its attainment had flitted through my brain.
During the period running from January to September, 1861, in
consequence of resignations and the addition of some new regiments to the
regular army, I had passed through the grade of first lieutenant and reached
that of captain in the Thirteenth United States Infantry, of which General W.
T. Sherman had recently been made the colonel. When relieved from further
duty at Yamhill by Captain Owen, I left for the Atlantic coast to join my
new regiment. A two days' ride brought me down to Portland, whence I
sailed to San Franciso, and at that city took passage by steamer for New
York via the Isthmus of Panama, in company with a number of officers who
were coming East under circumstances like my own.
At this time California was much agitated—on the question of secession,
and the secession element was so strong that considerable apprehension was
felt by the Union people lest the State might be carried into the
Confederacy. As a consequence great distrust existed in all quarters, and the
loyal passengers on the steamer, not knowing what might occur during our
voyage, prepared to meet emergencies by thoroughly organizing to frustrate
any attempt that might possibly be made to carry us into some Southern
port after we should leave Aspinwall. However, our fears proved
groundless; at all events, no such attempt was made, and we reached New
York in safety in November, 1861. A day or two in New York sufficed to
replenish a most meagre wardrobe, and I then started West to join my new
regiment, stopping a day and a night at the home of my parents in Ohio,
where I had not been since I journeyed from Texas for the Pacific coast. The
headquarters of my regiment were at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, to which
point I proceeded with no further delay except a stay in the city of St. Louis
long enough to pay my respects to General H. W. Halleck.

CHAPTER VIII.

AUDITING ACCOUNTS—CHIEF QUARTERMASTER AND
COMMISSARY OF THE ARMY OF SOUTHWEST MISSOURI—
PREPARING FOR THE PEA RIDGE CAMPAIGN—A DIFFERENCE
WITH GENERAL CURTIS—ORDERED TO THE FRONT—
APPOINTED A COLONEL.
Some days after I had reached the headquarters of my regiment near St.
Louis, General Halleck sent for me, and when I reported he informed me
that there existed a great deal of confusion regarding the accounts of some
of the disbursing officers in his department, whose management of its fiscal
affairs under his predecessor, General John C. Fremont, had been very
loose; and as the chaotic condition of things could be relieved only by
auditing these accounts, he therefore had determined to create a board of
officers for the purpose, and intended to make me president of it. The
various transactions in question covered a wide field, for the department
embraced the States of Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, Arkansas, and
all of Kentucky west of the Cumberland River.
The duty was not distasteful, and I felt that I was qualified to undertake
it, for the accounts to be audited belonged exclusively to the Quartermaster
and Subsistence departments, and by recent experience I had become
familiar with the class of papers that pertained to those branches of the
army. Indeed, it was my familiarity with such transactions, returns, etc., that
probably caused my selection as president of the board.
I entered upon the work forthwith, and continued at it until the 26th of
December, 1861. At that date I was relieved from the auditing board and
assigned to duty as Chief Commissary of the Army of Southwest Missouri,
commanded by General Samuel R. Curtis. This army was then organizing at
Rolla, Missouri, for the Pea Ridge campaign, its strength throughout the
campaign being in the aggregate about fifteen thousand men.
As soon as I received information of my selection for this position, I
went to General Halleck and requested him to assign me as Chief

Quartermaster also. He was reluctant to do so, saying that I could not
perform both duties, but I soon convinced him that I could do both better
than the one, for I reminded him that as Chief Quartermaster I should
control the transportation, and thus obviate all possible chances of discord
between the two staff departments; a condition which I deemed essential to
success, especially as it was intended that Curtis's army should mainly
subsist on the country. This argument impressed Halleck, and becoming
convinced, he promptly issued the order making me Chief Quartermaster
and Chief Commissary of Subsistence of the Army of Southwest Missouri,
and I started for Rolla to enter upon the work assigned me.
Having reported to General Curtis, I quickly learned that his system of
supply was very defective, and the transportation without proper
organization, some of the regiments having forty to fifty wagon each, and
others only three or four. I labored day and night to remedy these and other
defects, and with the help of Captain Michael P. Small, of the Subsistence
Department, who was an invaluable assistant, soon brought things into
shape, putting the transportation in good working order, giving each
regiment its proper quota of wagons, and turning the surplus into the
general supply trains of the army. In accomplishing this I was several times
on the verge of personal conflict with irate regimental commanders, but
Colonel G. M. Dodge so greatly sustained me with General Curtis by strong
moral support, and by such efficient details from his regiment—the Fourth
Iowa Volunteer Infantry—that I still bear him and it great affection and
lasting gratitude.
On January 26, 1862, General Curtis's army began its march from Rolla
to Springfield, Missouri, by way of Lebanon. The roads were deep with
mud, and so badly cut up that the supply trains in moving labored under the
most serious difficulties, and were greatly embarrassed by swollen streams.
Under these circumstances many delays occurred, and when we arrived at
Lebanon nearly all the supplies with which we had started had been
consumed, and the work of feeding the troops off the country had to begin
at that point. To get flour, wheat had to be taken from the stacks, threshed,
and sent to the mills to be ground. Wheat being scarce in this region, corn
as a substitute had to be converted into meal by the same laborious process.
In addition, beef cattle had to be secured for the meat ration.

By hard work we soon accumulated a sufficient quantity of flour and
corn meal to justify the resumption of our march on Springfield; at or near
which point the enemy was believed to be awaiting us, and the order was
given to move forward, the commanding general cautioning me, in the
event of disaster, to let no salt fall into General Price's hands. General
Curtis made a hobby of this matter of salt, believing the enemy was sadly in
need of that article, and he impressed me deeply with his conviction that
our cause would be seriously injured by a loss which would inure so greatly
and peculiarly to the enemy's benefit; but we afterward discovered, when
Price abandoned his position, that about all he left behind was salt.
When we were within about eight miles of Springfield, General Curtis
decided to put his troops in line of battle for the advance on the town, and
directed me to stretch out my supply trains in a long line of battle, so that in
falling back, in case the troops were repulsed, he could rally the men on the
wagons. I did not like the tactics, but of course obeyed the order. The line
moved on Springfield, and took the town without resistance, the enemy
having fled southward, in the direction of Pea Ridge, the preceding day. Of
course our success relieved my anxiety about the wagons; but fancy has
often pictured since, the stampede of six mule teams that, had we met with
any reverse, would have taken place over the prairies of southwest
Missouri.
The army set out in pursuit of Price, but I was left at Springfield to gather
supplies from the surrounding country, by the same means that had been
used at Lebanon, and send them forward. To succeed in this useful and
necessary duty required much hard work. To procure the grain and to run
the mills in the country, replacing the machinery where parts had been
carried away, or changing the principle and running the mills on some
different plan when necessary, and finally forward the product to the army,
made a task that taxed the energy of all engaged in it. Yet, having at
command a very skillful corps of millwrights, machinists, and millers,
detailed principally from the Fourth Iowa and Thirty-sixth Illinois volunteer
regiments, we soon got matters in shape, and were able to send such large
quantities of flour and meal to the front, that only the bacon and small parts
of the ration had to be brought forward from our depot at Rolla. When
things were well systematized, I went forward myself to expedite the
delivery of supplies, and joined the army at Cross Hollows, just south of
Pea Ridge.

Finding everything working well at Cross Hollows, I returned to
Springfield in a few days to continue the labor of collecting supplies. On
my way back I put the mills at Cassville in good order to grind the grain in
that vicinity, and perfected there a plan for the general supply from the
neighboring district of both the men and animals of the army, so that there
should, be no chance of a failure of the campaign from bad roads or disaster
to my trains. Springfield thus became the centre of the entire supply section.
Just after my return to Springfield the battle of Pea Ridge was fought.
The success of the Union troops in this battle was considerable, and while
not of sufficient magnitude to affect the general cause materially, it was
decisive as to that particular campaign, and resulted in driving all organized
Confederate forces out of the State of Missouri. After Pea Ridge was won,
certain efforts were made to deprive Curtis of the credit due him for the
victory; but, no matter what merit belonged to individual commanders, I
was always convinced that Curtis was deserving of the highest
commendation, not only for the skill displayed on the field, but for a zeal
and daring in campaign which was not often exhibited at that early period
of the war. Especially should this credit be awarded him, when we consider
the difficulties under which he labored, how he was hampered in having to
depend on a sparsely settled country for the subsistence of his troops. In the
reports of the battle that came to Springfield, much glory was claimed for
some other general officers, but as I had control of the telegraph line from
Springfield east, I detained all despatches until General Curtis had sent in
his official report. He thus had the opportunity of communicating with his
superior in advance of some of his vain subordinates, who would have laid
claim to the credit of the battle had I not thwarted them by this summary
means.
Not long afterward came the culmination of a little difference that had
arisen between General Curtis and me, brought about, I have since
sometimes thought, by an assistant quartermaster from Iowa, whom I had
on duty with me at Springfield. He coveted my place, and finally succeeded
in getting it. He had been an unsuccessful banker in Iowa, and early in the
war obtained an appointment as assistant quartermaster of volunteers with
the rank of captain. As chief quartermaster of the army in Missouri, there
would be opportunities for the recuperation of his fortunes which would not
offer to one in a subordinate place; so to gain this position he doubtless
intrigued for it while under my eye, and Curtis was induced to give it to him

as soon as I was relieved. His career as my successor, as well as in other
capacities in which he was permitted to act during the war, was to say the
least not savory. The war over he turned up in Chicago as president of a
bank, which he wrecked; and he finally landed in the penitentiary for
stealing a large sum of money from the United States Treasury at
Washington while employed there as a clerk. The chances that this man's
rascality would be discovered were much less when chief of the
departments of transportation and supply of an army than they afterward
proved to be in the Treasury. I had in my possession at all times large sums
of money for the needs of the army, and among other purposes for which
these funds were to be disbursed was the purchase of horses and mules.
Certain officers and men more devoted to gain than to the performance of
duty (a few such are always to be found in armies) quickly learned this, and
determined to profit by it. Consequently they began a regular system of
stealing horses from the people of the country and proffering them to me for
purchase. It took but a little time to discover this roguery, and when I
became satisfied of their knavery I brought it to a sudden close by seizing
the horses as captured property, branding them U. S., and refusing to pay
for them. General Curtis, misled by the misrepresentations that had been
made, and without fully knowing the circumstances, or realizing to what a
base and demoralizing state of things this course was inevitably tending,
practically ordered me to make the Payments, and I refused. The immediate
result of this disobedience was a court-martial to try me; and knowing that
my usefulness in that army was gone, no matter what the outcome of the
trial might be, I asked General Halleck to relieve me from duty with
General Curtis and order me to St. Louis. This was promptly done, and as
my connection with the Army of Southwest Missouri was thus severed
before the court could be convened, my case never came to trial. The man
referred to as being the cause of this condition of affairs was appointed by
General Curtis to succeed me. I turned over to the former all the funds and
property for which I was responsible, also the branded horses and mules
stolen from the people of the country, requiring receipts for everything. I
heard afterward that some of the blooded stock of southwest Missouri made
its way to Iowa in an unaccountable manner, but whether the administration
of my successor was responsible for it or not I am unable to say.
On my arrival at St. Louis I felt somewhat forlorn and disheartened at the
turn affairs had taken. I did not know where I should be assigned, nor what

I should be required to do, but these uncertainties were dispelled in a few
days by General Halleck, who, being much pressed by the Governors of
some of the Western States to disburse money in their sections, sent me out
into the Northwest with a sort of roving commission to purchase horses for
the use of the army. I went to Madison and Racine, Wis., at which places I
bought two hundred horses, which were shipped to St. Louis. At Chicago I
bought two hundred more, and as the prices paid at the latter point showed
that Illinois was the cheapest market—it at that time producing a surplus
over home demands—I determined to make Chicago the centre of my
operations.
While occupied in this way at Chicago the battle of Shiloh took place,
and the desire for active service with troops became uppermost in my
thoughts, so I returned to St. Louis to see if I could not get into the field.
General Halleck having gone down to the Shiloh battle-field, I reported to
his Assistant Adjutant-General, Colonel John C. Kelton, and told him of my
anxiety to take a hand in active field-service, adding that I did not wish to
join my regiment, which was still organizing and recruiting at Jefferson
Barracks, for I felt confident I could be more useful elsewhere. Kelton
knew that the purchasing duty was but temporary, and that on its
completion, probably at no distant date, I should have to join my company
at the barracks; so, realizing the inactivity to which that situation of affairs
would subject me, he decided to assume the responsibility of sending me to
report to General Halleck at Shiloh, and gave me an order to that effect.
This I consider the turning-point in my military career, and shall always
feel grateful to Colonel Kelton for his kindly act which so greatly
influenced my future. My desire to join the army at Shiloh had now taken
possession of me, and I was bent on getting there by the first means
available. Learning that a hospital-boat under charge of Dr. Hough was
preparing to start for Pittsburg Landing, I obtained the Doctor's consent to
take passage on it, and on the evening of April 15, I left St. Louis for the
scene of military operations in northeastern Mississippi.
At Pittsburg Landing I reported to General Halleck, who, after some
slight delay, assigned me to duty as an assistant to Colonel George Thom, of
the topographical engineers. Colonel Thom put me at the work of getting
the trains up from the landing, which involved the repair of roads for that
purpose by corduroying the marshy places. This was rough, hard work,

without much chance of reward, but it, was near the field of active
operations, and I determined to do the best I could at it till opportunity for
something better might arise.
General Halleck did not know much about taking care of himself in the
field. His camp arrangements were wholly inadequate, and in consequence
he and all the officers about him were subjected to much unnecessary
discomfort and annoyance. Someone suggested to him to appoint me
quartermaster for his headquarters, with a view to systematizing the
establishment and remedying the defects complained of, and I was
consequently assigned to this duty. Shortly after this assignment I had the
satisfaction of knowing that General Halleck was delighted with the
improvements made at headquarters, both in camp outfit and transportation,
and in administration generally. My popularity grew as the improvements
increased, but one trifling incident came near marring it. There was some
hitch about getting fresh beef for General Halleck's mess, and as by this
time everybody had come to look to me for anything and everything in the
way of comfort, Colonel Joe McKibben brought an order from the General
for me to get fresh beef for the headquarters mess. I was not caterer for this
mess, nor did I belong to it even, so I refused point-blank. McKibben,
disliking to report my disobedience, undertook persuasion, and brought
Colonel Thom to see me to aid in his negotiations, but I would not give in,
so McKibben in the kindness of his heart rode several miles in order to
procure the beef himself, and thus save me from the dire results which be
thought would follow should Halleck get wind of such downright
insubordination. The next day I was made Commissary of Subsistence for
the headquarters in addition to my other duties, and as this brought me into
the line of fresh beef, General Halleck had no cause thereafter to complain
of a scarcity of that article in his mess.
My stay at General Halleck's headquarters was exceedingly agreeable,
and my personal intercourse with officers on duty there was not only
pleasant and instructive, but offered opportunities for improvement and
advancement for which hardly any other post could have afforded like
chances. My special duties did not occupy all my time, and whenever
possible I used to go over to General Sherman's division, which held the
extreme right of our line in the advance on Corinth, to witness the little
engagements occurring there continuously during the slow progress which
the army was then making, the enemy being forced back but a short

distance each day. I knew General Sherman very well. We came from near
the same section of country in Ohio, and his wife and her family had known
me from childhood. I was always kindly received by the General, and one
day he asked me if I would be willing to accept the colonelcy of a certain
Ohio regiment if he secured the appointment. I gladly told him yes, if
General Halleck would let me go; but I was doomed to disappointment, for
in about a week or so afterward General Sherman informed me that the
Governor of Ohio would not consent, having already decided to appoint
some one else.
A little later Governor Blair, of Michigan, who was with the army
temporarily in the interest of the troops from his State, and who just at this
time was looking around for a colonel for the Second Michigan Cavalry,
and very anxious to get a regular officer, fixed upon me as the man. The
regiment was then somewhat run down by losses from sickness, and
considerably split into factions growing out of jealousies engendered by
local differences previous to organization, and the Governor desired to
bridge over all these troubles by giving the regiment a commander who
knew nothing about them. I presume that some one said to the Governor
about this time, "Why don't you get Sheridan?" This, however, is only
conjecture. I really do not know how my name was proposed to him, but I
have often been told since that General Gordon Granger, whom I knew
slightly then, and who had been the former colonel of the regiment, first
suggested the appointment. At all events, on the morning of May 27, 1862,
Captain Russell A. Alger—recently Governor of Michigan—accompanied
by the quartermaster of the regiment, Lieutenant Frank Walbridge, arrived
at General Halleck's headquarters and delivered to me this telegram:

(By Telegraph.)
"MILITARY DEPT OF MICHIGAN,
"ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE,
"DETROIT, May 25, 1862.

GENERAL ORDERS NO. 148.

"Captain Philip H. Sheridan, U. S. Army, is hereby
appointed Colonel of the Second Regiment Michigan

Cavalry, to rank from this date.

"Captain Sheridan will immediately assume command of the
regiment.

"By order of the Commander-in-Chief,
"JNO. ROBERTSON,
"Adjutant-General."

I took the order to General Halleck, and said that I would like to accept,
but he was not willing I should do so until the consent of the War
Department could be obtained. I returned to my tent much disappointed, for
in those days, for some unaccountable reason, the War Department did not
favor the appointment of regular officers to volunteer regiments, and I
feared a disapproval at Washington. After a further consultation with
Captain Alger and Lieutenant Walbridge, I determined to go to the General
again and further present the case. Enlarging on my desire for active service
with troops, and urging the utter lack of such opportunity where I was, I
pleaded my cause until General Halleck finally resolved to take the
responsibility of letting me go without consulting the War Department.
When I had thanked him for the kindness, he said that inasmuch as I was to
leave him, he would inform me that the regiment to which I had just been
appointed was ordered out as part of a column directed to make a raid to the
south of the enemy, then occupying Corinth, and that if I could turn over
my property, it would probably be well for me to join my command
immediately, so that I could go with the expedition. I returned to my tent,
where Alger and Walbridge were still waiting, and told them of the success
of my interview, at the same time notifying them that I would join the
regiment in season to accompany the expedition of which Halleck had
spoken.
In the course of the afternoon I turned over all my property to my
successor, and about 8 o'clock that evening made my appearance at the
camp of the Second Michigan Cavalry, near Farmington, Mississippi. The
regiment was in a hubbub of excitement making preparations for the raid,
and I had barely time to meet the officers of my command, and no
opportunity at all to see the men, when the trumpet sounded to horse.
Dressed in a coat and trousers of a captain of infantry, but recast as a

colonel of cavalry by a pair of well-worn eagles that General Granger had
kindly given me, I hurriedly placed on my saddle a haversack, containing
some coffee, sugar, bacon, and hard bread, which had been prepared, and
mounting my horse, I reported my regiment to the brigade commander as
ready for duty.

CHAPTER IX.

EXPEDITION TO BOONEVILLE—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—
CONFEDERATE STRAGGLERS—SUCCESS OF THE EXPEDITION—
A RECONNOISSANCE—THE IMPORTANCE OF BODILY
SUSTENANCE—THE BATTLE OF BOONEVILLE—RECOMMENDED
FOR APPOINTMENT AS A BRIGADIER-GENERAL.

The expedition referred to by General Halleck in his parting conversation
was composed of the Second Michigan and Second Iowa regiments of
cavalry, formed into a brigade under command of Colonel Washington L.
Elliott, of the Second Iowa. It was to start on the night of the 27th of May at

12 o'clock, and proceed by a circuitous route through Iuka, Miss., to
Booneville, a station on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, about twenty-two
miles below Corinth, and accomplish all it could in the way of destroying
the enemy's supplies and cutting his railroad communications.
The weather in that climate was already warm, guides unobtainable, and
both men and horses suffered much discomfort from the heat, and fatigue
from the many delays growing out of the fact that we were in almost total
ignorance of the roads leading to the point that we desired to reach. In order
that we might go light we carried only sugar, coffee, and salt, depending on
the country for meat and bread. Both these articles were scarce, but I think
we got all there was, for our advent was so unexpected by the people of the
region through which we passed that, supposing us to be Confederate
cavalry, they often gave us all they had, the women and servants
contributing most freely from their reserve stores.
Before reaching Booneville I had the advance, but just as we arrived on
the outskirts of the town the brigade was formed with the Second Iowa on
my right, and the whole force moved forward, right in front, preceded by
skirmishers. Here we encountered the enemy, but forced him back with
little resistance. When we had gained possession of the station, Colonel
Elliott directed me to take the left wing of my regiment, pass to the south,
and destroy a bridge or culvert supposed to be at a little distance below the
town on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. The right wing, or other half of the
regiment, was to be held in reserve for my support if necessary. I moved
rapidly in the designated direction till I reached the railroad, and then rode
down it for a mile and a half, but found neither bridge nor culvert. I then
learned that there was no bridge of any importance except the one at
Baldwin, nine miles farther down, but as I was aware, from information
recently received, that it was defended by three regiments and a battery, I
concluded that I could best accomplish the purpose for which I had been
detached—crippling the road—by tearing up the track, bending the rails,
and burning the cross-ties. This was begun with alacrity at four different
points, officers and men vieing with one another in the laborious work of
destruction. We had but few tools, and as the difficulties to overcome were
serious, our progress was slow, until some genius conceived the idea that
the track, rails and ties, might be lifted from its bed bodily, turned over, and
subjected to a high heat; a convenient supply of dry fence-rails would
furnish ample fuel to render the rails useless. In this way a good deal of the

track was effectively broken up, and communication by rail from Corinth to
the south entirely cut off. While we were still busy in wrecking the road, a
dash was made at my right and rear by a squadron of Confederate cavalry.
This was handsomely met by the reserve under Captain Archibald P.
Campbell, of the Second Michigan, who, dismounting a portion of his
command, received the enemy with such a volley from his Colt's repeating
rifles that the squadron broke and fled in all directions. We were not
molested further, and resumed our work, intending to extend the break
toward Baldwin, but receiving orders from Elliott to return to Booneville
immediately, the men were recalled, and we started to rejoin the main
command.
In returning to Booneville, I found the railroad track above where I had
struck it blocked by trains that we had thus cut off, and the woods and fields
around the town covered with several thousand Confederate soldiers. These
were mostly convalescents and disheartened stragglers belonging to
General Beauregard's army, and from them we learned that Corinth was
being evacuated. I spent some little time in an endeavor to get these
demoralized men into an open field, with a view to some future disposition
of them; but in the midst of the undertaking I received another order from
Colonel Elliott to join him at once. The news of the evacuation had also
reached Elliott, and had disclosed a phase of the situation so different from
that under which he had viewed it when we arrived at Booneville, that he
had grown anxious to withdraw, lest we should be suddenly pounced upon
by an overwhelming force from some one of the columns in retreat. Under
such circumstances my prisoners would prove a decided embarrassment, so
I abandoned further attempts to get them together—not even paroling them,
which I thought might have been done with but little risk.
In the meantime the captured cars had been fired, and as their complete
destruction was assured by explosions from those containing ammunition,
they needed no further attention, so I withdrew my men and hastened to
join Elliott, taking along some Confederate officers whom I had retained
from among four or five hundred prisoners captured when making the
original dash below the town.
The losses in my regiment, and, in fact, those of the entire command,
were insignificant. The results of the expedition were important; the
railroad being broken so thoroughly as to cut off all rolling stock north of

Booneville, and to place at the service of General Halleck's army the cars
and locomotives of which the retreating Confederates were now so much in
need. In addition, we burned twenty-six cars containing ten thousand stand
of small arms, three pieces of artillery, a great quantity of clothing, a heavy
supply of ammunition, and the personal baggage of General Leonidas Polk.
A large number of prisoners, mostly sick and convalescent, also fell into our
hands; but as we could not carry them with us—such a hurried departure
was an immediate necessity, by reason of our critical situation—the process
of paroling them was not completed, and they doubtless passed back to
active service in the Confederacy, properly enough unrecognized as
prisoners of war by their superiors.
In returning, the column marched back by another indirect route to its old
camp near Farmington, where we learned that the whole army had moved
into and beyond Corinth, in pursuit of Beauregard, on the 13th of May, the
very day we had captured Booneville. Although we had marched about one
hundred and eighty miles in four days, we were required to take part, of
course, in the pursuit of the Confederate army. So, resting but one night in
our old camp, we were early in the saddle again on the morning of the 2d of
June. Marching south through Corinth, we passed on the 4th of June the
scene of our late raid, viewing with much satisfaction, as we took the road
toward Blackland, the still smoldering embers of the burned trains.
On the 4th of June I was ordered to proceed with my regiment along the
Blackland road to determine the strength of the enemy in that direction, as it
was thought possible we might capture, by a concerted movement which
General John Pope had suggested to General Halleck, a portion of
Beauregard's rear guard. Pushing the Confederate scouts rapidly in with a
running fire for a mile or more, while we were approaching a little stream, I
hoped to gobble the main body of the enemy's pickets. I therefore directed
the sabre battalion of the regiment, followed by that portion of it armed
with revolving rifles, to dash forward in column, cut off these videttes
before they could cross the stream, and then gather them in. The pickets
fled hastily, however, and a pell-mell pursuit carried us over the stream at
their heels by a little bridge, with no thought of halting till we gained a hill
on the other side, and suddenly found ourselves almost in the camp of a
strong body of artillery and infantry. Captain Campbell being in advance,
hurriedly dismounted his battalion for a further forward movement on foot,
but it was readily seen that the enemy was present in such heavy force as

almost to ensure our destruction, and I gave orders for a hasty withdrawal.
We withdrew without loss under cover of thick woods, aided much,
however, by the consternation of the Confederates, who had hardly
recovered from their surprise at our sudden appearance in their camp before
we had again placed the stream between them and us by recrossing the
bridge. The reconnoissance was a success in one way—that is, in finding
out that the enemy was at the point supposed by, General Pope; but it also
had a tendency to accelerate Beauregard's retreat, for in a day or two his
whole line fell back as far south as Guntown, thus rendering abortive the
plans for bagging a large portion of his army.
General Beauregard's evacuation of Corinth and retreat southward were
accomplished in the face of a largely superior force of Union troops, and he
reached the point where he intended to halt for reorganization without other
loss than that sustained in the destruction of the cars and supplies at
Booneville, and the capture of some stragglers and deserters that fell into
our hands while we were pressing his rear from General Pope's flank. The
number of these was quite large, and indicated that the enemy was
considerably demoralized. Under such circumstances, an energetic and
skillfully directed pursuit might not have made certain the enemy's
destruction, but it would largely have aided in disintegrating his forces, and
I never could quite understand why it was not ordered. The desultory affairs
between rear and advance guards seemed as a general, thing to have no
particular purpose in view beyond finding out where the enemy was, and
when he was found, since no supporting colums were at hand and no one in
supreme control was present to give directions, our skirmishing was of little
avail and brought but small reward.
A short time subsequent to these occurrences, Colonel Elliott was made a
brigadier-general, and as General Pope appointed him his Chief-of-Staff, I,
on the 11th of June, 1862, fell in command of the brigade by seniority. For
the rest of the month but little of moment occurred, and we settled down
into camp at Booneville on the 26th of June, in a position which my brigade
had been ordered to take up some twenty miles, in advance of the main
army for the purpose of covering its front. Although but a few days had
elapsed from the date of my appointment as colonel of the Second
Michigan to that of my succeeding to the command of the brigade, I believe
I can say with propriety that I had firmly established myself in the
confidence of the officers and men of the regiment, and won their regard by

thoughtful care. I had striven unceasingly to have them well fed and well
clothed, had personally looked after the selection of their camps, and had
maintained such a discipline as to allay former irritation.
Men who march, scout, and fight, and suffer all the hardships that fall to
the lot of soldiers in the field, in order to do vigorous work must have the
best bodily sustenance, and every comfort that can be provided. I knew
from practical experience on the frontier that my efforts in this direction
would not only be appreciated, but requited by personal affection and
gratitude; and, further, that such exertions would bring the best results to
me. Whenever my authority would permit I saved my command from
needless sacrifices and unnecessary toil; therefore, when hard or daring
work was to be done I expected the heartiest response, and always got it.
Soldiers are averse to seeing their comrades killed without compensating
results, and none realize more quickly than they the blundering that often
takes place on the field of battle. They want some tangible indemnity for the
loss of life, and as victory is an offset the value of which is manifest, it not
only makes them content to shed their blood, but also furnishes evidence of
capacity in those who command them. My regiment had lost very few men
since coming under my command, but it seemed, in the eyes of all who
belonged to it, that casualties to the enemy and some slight successes for us
had repaid every sacrifice, and in consequence I had gained not only their
confidence as soldiers, but also their esteem and love as men, and to a
degree far beyond what I then realized.
As soon as the camp of my brigade was pitched at Booneville, I began to
scout in every direction, to obtain a knowledge of the enemy's whereabouts
and learn the ground about me. My standing in drawing at the Military
Academy had never been so high as to warrant the belief that I could ever
prove myself an expert, but a few practical lessons in that line were
impressed on me there, and I had retained enough to enable me to make
rough maps that could be readily understood, and which would be suitable
to replace the erroneous skeleton outlines of northern Mississippi, with
which at this time we were scantily furnished; so as soon as possible I
compiled for the use of myself and my regimental commanders an
information map of the surrounding country. This map exhibited such
details as country roads, streams, farmhouses, fields, woods, and swamps,
and such other topographical features as would be useful. I must confess
that my crude sketch did not evidence much artistic merit, but it was an

improvement on what we already possessed in the way of details to guide
the command, and this was what I most needed; for it was of the first
importance that in our exposed condition we should be equipped with a
thorough knowledge of the section in which we were operating, so as to be
prepared to encounter an enemy already indicating recovery from the
disorganizing effects of his recent retreat.
In the immediate vicinity of Booneville the country was covered with
heavy forests, with here and there clearings or intervening fields that had
been devoted to the cultivation of cotton and corn. The ground was of a low
character, typical of northeastern Mississippi, and abounded in small creeks
that went almost totally dry even in short periods of drought, but became
flooded with muddy water under the outpouring of rain peculiar to a semi-
tropical climate. In such a region there were many chances of our being
surprised, especially by an enemy who knew the country well, and whose
ranks were filled with local guides; and great precautions as well as the
fullest information were necessary to prevent disaster. I therefore
endeavored to familiarize all with our surroundings, but scarcely had
matters begun to shape themselves as I desired when our annihilation was
attempted by a large force of Confederate cavalry.

On the morning of July 1, 1862, a cavalry command of between five and
six thousand-men, under the Confederate General James R. Chalmers,
advanced on two roads converging near Booneville. The head of the
enemy's column on the Blackland and Booneville road came in contact with
my pickets three miles and a half west of Booneville. These pickets, under
Lieutenant Leonidas S. Scranton, of the Second Michigan Cavalry, fell back
slowly, taking advantage of every tree or other cover to fire from till they
arrived at the point where the converging roads joined. At this junction
there was a strong position in the protecting timber, and here Scranton made
a firm stand, being reinforced presently by the few men he had out as
pickets on the road to his left, a second company I had sent him from camp,
and subsequently by three companies more, all now commanded by Captain
Campbell. This force was dismounted and formed in line, and soon
developed that the enemy was present in large numbers. Up to this time
Chalmers had shown only the heads of his columns, and we had doubts as
to his purpose, but now that our resistance forced him to deploy two
regiments on the right and left of the road, it became apparent that he meant
business, and that there was no time to lose in preparing to repel his attack.
Full information of the situation was immediately sent me, and I directed
Campbell to hold fast, if possible, till I could support him, but if compelled
to retire he was authorized to do so slowly, taking advantage of every
means that fell in his way to prolong the fighting. Before this I had
stationed one battalion of the Second Iowa in Booneville, but Colonel
Edward Hatch, commanding that regiment, was now directed to leave one
company for the protection of our camp a little to the north of the station,
and take the balance of the Second Iowa, with the battalion in Booneville
except two sabre companies, and form the whole in rear of Captain
Campbell, to protect his flanks and support him by a charge should the
enemy break his dismounted line.
While these preparations were being made, the Confederates attempted to
drive Campbell from his position by a direct attack through an open field.
In this they failed, however, for our men, reserving their fire until the
enemy came within about thirty yards, then opened on him with such a
shower of bullets from our Colt's rifles that it soon became too hot for him,

and he was repulsed with considerable loss. Foiled in this move, Chalmers
hesitated to attack again in front, but began overlapping both flanks of
Campbell's line by force of numbers, compelling Campbell to retire toward
a strong position I had selected in his rear for a line on which to make our
main resistance. As soon as the enemy saw this withdrawing he again
charged in front, but was again as gallantly repelled as in the first assault,
although the encounter was for a short time so desperate as to have the
character of a hand-to-hand conflict, several groups of friend and foe using
on each other the butts of their guns. At this juncture the timely arrival of
Colonel Hatch with the Second Iowa gave a breathing-spell to Campbell,
and made the Confederates so chary of further direct attacks that he was
enabled to retire; and at the same time I found opportunity to make
disposition of the reinforcement to the best advantage possible, placing the
Second Iowa on the left of the new line and strengthening Campbell on its
right with all the men available.
In view of his numbers, the enemy soon regained confidence in his
ability to overcome us, and in a little while again began his flanking
movements, his right passing around my left flank some distance, and
approaching our camp and transportation, which I had forbidden to be
moved out to the rear. Fearing that he would envelop us and capture the
camp and transportation, I determined to take the offensive. Remembering a
circuitous wood road that I had become familiar with while making the map
heretofore mentioned, I concluded that the most effective plan would be to
pass a small column around the enemy's left, by way of this road, and strike
his rear by a mounted charge simultaneously with an advance of our main
line on his front. I knew that the attack in rear would be a most hazardous
undertaking, but in the face of such odds as the enemy had the condition of
affairs was most critical, and could be relieved, only by a bold and radical
change in our tactics; so I at once selected four sabre companies, two from
the Second Michigan and two from the Second Iowa, and placing Captain
Alger, of the former regiment, in command of them, I informed him that I
expected of them the quick and desperate work that is usually imposed on a
forlorn hope.
To carry out the purpose now in view, I instructed Captain Alger to
follow the wood road as it led around the left of the enemy's advancing
forces, to a point where 'it joined the Blackland road, about three miles from
Booneville, and directed him, upon reaching the Blackland road, to turn up

it immediately, and charge the rear of the enemy's line. Under no
circumstances was he to deploy the battalion, but charge in column right
through whatever he came upon, and report to me in front of Booneville, if
at all possible for him to get there. If he failed to break through the enemy's
line, he was to go ahead as far as he could, and then if any of his men were
left, and he was able to retreat, he was to do so by the same route he had
taken on his way out. To conduct him on this perilous service I sent along a
thin, sallow, tawny-haired Mississippian named Beene, whom I had
employed as a guide and scout a few days before, on account of his intimate
knowledge of the roads, from the public thoroughfares down to the
insignificant by-paths of the neighboring swamps. With such guidance I felt
sure that the column would get to the desired point without delay, for there
was no danger of its being lost or misled by taking any of the many by-
roads which traversed the dense forests through which it would be obliged
to pass. I also informed Alger that I should take the reserve and join the
main line in front of Booneville for the purpose of making an advance of
my whole force, and that as a signal he must have his men cheer loudly
when he struck the enemy's rear, in order that my attack might be
simultaneous with his.
I gave him one hour to go around and come back through the enemy, and
when he started I moved to the front with the balance of the reserve, to put
everything I had into the fight. This meant an inestimable advantage to the
enemy in case of our defeat, but our own safety demanded the hazard. All
along our attenuated line the fighting was now sharp, and the enemy's firing
indicated such numerical strength that fear of disaster to Alger increased my
anxiety terribly as the time set for his cheering arrived and no sound of it
was heard.
Relying, however, on the fact that Beene's knowledge of the roads would
prevent his being led astray, and confident of Alger's determination to
accomplish the purpose for which he set out, as soon as the hour was up I
ordered my whole line forward. Fortunately, just as this moment a
locomotive and two cars loaded with grain for my horses ran into
Booneville from Corinth. I say fortunately, because it was well known
throughout the command that in the morning, when I first discovered the
large numbers of the enemy, I had called for assistance; and my troops, now
thinking that reinforcements had arrived by rail from Rienzi, where a
division of infantry was encamped, and inspirated by this belief, advanced

with renewed confidence and wild cheering. Meantime I had the engineer
of the locomotive blow his whistle loudly, so that the enemy might also
learn that a train had come; and from the fact that in a few moments he
began to give way before our small force, I thought that this strategem had
some effect. Soon his men broke, and ran in the utmost disorder over the
country in every direction. I found later, however, that his precipitous
retreat was due to the pressure on his left from the Second Iowa, in concert
with the front attack of the Second Michigan, and the demoralization
wrought in his rear by Alger, who had almost entirely accomplished the
purpose of his expedition, though he had failed to come through, or so near
that I could hear the signal agreed upon before leaving Booneville.
After Alger had reached and turned up the Blackland road, the first thing
he came across was the Confederate headquarters; the officers and orderlies
about which he captured and sent back some distance to a farm-house.
Continuing on a gallop, he soon struck the rear of the enemy's line, but was
unable to get through; nor did he get near enough for me to hear his
cheering; but as he had made the distance he was to travel in the time
allotted, his attack and mine were almost coincident, and the enemy,
stampeded by the charges in front and rear, fled toward Blackland, with
little or no attempt to capture Alger's command, which might readily have
been done. Alger's troopers soon rejoined me at Booneville, minus many
hats, having returned by their original route. They had sustained little loss
except a few men wounded and a few temporarily missing. Among these
was Alger himself, who was dragged from his saddle by the limb of a tree
that, in the excitement of the charge, he was unable to flank. The missing
had been dismounted in one way or another, and run over by the enemy in
his flight; but they all turned up later, none the worse except for a few
scratches and bruises.
My effective strength in this fight was 827 all told, and Alger's command
comprised ninety officers and men. Chalmers's force was composed of six
regiments and two battalions, and though I have been unable to find any
returns from which to verify his actual numbers, yet, from the statements of
prisoners and from information obtained from citizens along his line of
march, it is safe to say that he had in the action not less than five-thousand
men. Our casualties were not many—forty-one in all. His loss in killed and
wounded was considerable, his most severely wounded—forty men—

falling into our hands, having been left at farm-houses in the vicinity of the
battlefield.
The victory in the face of such odds was most gratifying, and as it
justified my disinclination—in fact, refusal—to retire from Booneville
without fighting (for the purpose of saving my transportation, as directed by
superior authority when I applied in the morning for reinforcements), it was
to me particularly grateful. It was also very valuable in, view of the fact that
it increased the confidence between the officers and men of my brigade and
me, and gave us for the balance of the month not only comparative rest, but
entire immunity from the dangers of a renewed effort to gobble my isolated
outpost. In addition to all this, commendation from my immediate superiors
was promptly tendered through oral and written congratulations; and their
satisfaction at the result of the battle took definite form a few days later, in
the following application for my promotion, when, by an expedition to
Ripley, Miss., most valuable information as to the enemy's location and
plans was captured:

"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE MISSISSIPPI,
"JULY 30, 1862.—3.05 P. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HALLECK,
"Washington, D. C.

"Brigadiers scarce; good ones scarce. Asboth goes on the
month's leave you gave him ten months since; Granger has
temporary command. The undersigned respectfully beg that
you will obtain the promotion of Sheridan. He is worth his
weight in gold. His Ripley expedition has brought us
captured letters of immense value, as well as prisoners,
showing the rebel plans and dispositions, as you will learn
from District Commander.

"W. S. ROSECRANS, Brigadier-General.
"C. C. SULLIVAN, " "
"G. GRANGER, " "

"W. L. ELLIOTT, " "
"A. ASBOTH, " " "

CHAPTER X.

IN CAMP NEAR RIENZI—GENERAL GRANGER—A VALUABLE
CAPTURE AT RIPLEY—RAIDING A CORNFIELD—REPULSING AN
ATTACK—PRESENTED WITH THE BLACK HORSE "RIENZI"—
MEETING GENERAL GRANT—APPOINTED A BRIGADIER-
GENERAL.
After the battle of Booneville, it was decided by General Rosecrans, on
the advice of General Granger, that my position at Booneville was too much
exposed, despite the fact that late on the evening of the fight my force had
been increased by the addition of, a battery of four guns and two companies
of infantry, and by the Third Michigan Cavalry, commanded by Colonel
John K. Mizner; so I was directed to withdraw from my post and go into
camp near Rienzi, Mississippi, where I could equally well cover the roads
in front of the army, and also be near General Asboth's division of infantry,
which occupied a line in rear of the town. This section of country, being
higher and more rolling than that in the neighborhood of Booneville, had
many advantages in the way of better camping-grounds, better grazing and
the like, but I moved with reluctance, because I feared that my proximity to
Asboth would diminish to a certain extent my independence of command.
General Asboth was a tall, spare, handsome man, with gray mustache and
a fierce look. He was an educated soldier, of unquestioned courage, but the
responsibilities of outpost duty bore rather heavily on him, and he kept all
hands in a state of constant worry in anticipation of imaginary attacks. His
ideas of discipline were not very rigid either, and as by this time there had
been introduced into my brigade some better methods than those obtaining
when it first fell to my command, I feared the effect should he, have any
control over it, or meddle with its internal affairs. However, there was
nothing to do but to move to the place designated, but General Granger,
who still commanded the cavalry division to which the brigade belonged, so
arranged matters with General Rosecrans, who had succeeded to the
command of the Army of the Mississippi, that my independence was to be
undisturbed, except in case of a general attack by the enemy.

We went into camp near Rienzi, July 22, sending back to the general
field-hospital at Tuscumbia Springs all our sick—a considerable number—
stricken down by the malarial influences around Booneville. In a few days
the fine grazing and abundance of grain for our exhausted horses brought
about their recuperation; and the many large open fields in the vicinity gave
opportunity for drills and parades, which were much needed. I turned my
attention to those disciplinary measures which, on account of active work in
the field, had been necessarily neglected since the brigade had arrived at
Pittsburg Landing, in April; and besides, we had been busy in collecting
information by scouting parties and otherwise, in prosecution of the purpose
for which we were covering the main army.
I kept up an almost daily correspondence with General Granger,
concerning the information obtained by scouts and reconnoitring parties,
and he came often to Rienzi to see me in relation to this and other matters.
Previously I had not had much personal association with Granger. While I
was at Halleck's headquarters we met on one or two occasions, and the day
I joined the Second Michigan at Farmington I saw him for a few moments,
but, with such slight exception, our intercourse had been almost exclusively
official. He had suggested my name, I was told, to Governor Blair, when the
Governor was in search of an officer of the regular army to appoint to the
colonelcy of the Second Michigan Cavalry, but his recommendation must
have been mainly based on the favorable opinions he had heard expressed
by General Halleck and by some of the officers of his staff, rather than from
any personal knowledge of my capacity. Of course I was very grateful for
this, but some of his characteristics did not impress me favorably, and I
sometimes wished the distance between our camps greater. His most serious
failing was an uncontrollable propensity to interfere with and direct the
minor matters relating to the command, the details for which those under
him were alone responsible. Ill-judged meddling in this respect often led to
differences between us, only temporary it is true, but most harassing to the
subordinate, since I was compelled by the circumstances of the situation not
only invariably to yield my own judgment, but many a time had to play
peacemaker—smoothing down ruffled feelings, that I knew had been
excited by Granger's freaky and spasmodic efforts to correct personally
some trifling fault that ought to have been left to a regimental or company
commander to remedy. Yet with all these small blemishes Granger had
many good qualities, and his big heart was so full of generous impulses and

good motives as to far outbalance his short-comings; and not-withstanding
the friction and occasional acerbity of our official intercourse, we
maintained friendly relations till his death.
In pursuance of the fatal mistake made by dispersing Halleck's forces
after the fall of Corinth, General Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio had
been started some time before on its march eastward toward Chattanooga;
and as this movement would be followed of course by a manoeuvre on the
part of the enemy, now at Tupelo under General Braxton Bragg, either to
meet Buell or frustrate his designs by some counter-operation, I was
expected to furnish, by scouting and all other means available, information
as to what was going on within the Confederate lines. To do the work
required, necessitated an increase of my command, and the Seventh Kansas
Cavalry was therefore added to it, and my picket-line extended so as to
cover from Jacinto southwesterly to a point midway between Rienzi and
Booneville, and then northwesterly to the Hatchie River. Skirmishes
between outposts on this line were of frequent occurrence, with small
results to either side, but they were somewhat annoying, particularly in the
direction of Ripley, where the enemy maintained a considerable outpost.
Deciding to cripple if not capture this outpost, on the evening of July 27, I
sent out an expedition under Colonel Hatch, which drove the enemy from
the town of Ripley and took a few prisoners, but the most valuable prize
was in the shape of a package of thirty-two private letters, the partial
reading of which disclosed to me the positive transfer from Mississippi of
most of Bragg's army, for the purpose of counteracting Buell's operations in
northern Alabama and East Tennessee. This decisive evidence was of the
utmost importance, and without taking time to read all the letters, I
forwarded them to General Granger July 28, in a despatch which stated: "I
deem it necessary to send them at once; the enemy is moving in large force
on Chattanooga." Other than this the results of the expedition were few; and
the enemy, having fled from Ripley with but slight resistance, accompanied
by almost all the inhabitants, re-occupied the place next day after our
people had quitted it, and resumed in due time his annoying attacks on our
outposts, both sides trying to achieve something whenever occasion offered.
The prevalence of a severe drought had resulted in drying up many of the
streams within the enemy's lines, and, in consequence, he was obliged to
shift his camps often, and send his beef-cattle and mules near his outposts
for water. My scouts kept me well posted in regard to the movements of

both camps and herds; and a favorable opportunity presenting itself, I sent
an expedition on August 14 to gather in some animals located on Twenty-
Mile Creek, a stream always supplied with water from a source of never-
failing, springs. Our side met with complete success in this instance, and
when the expedition returned, we were all made happy by an abundance of
fresh beef, and by some two hundred captured mules, that we thus added to
our trains at a time when draft animals were much needed.
Rations for the men were now supplied in fair quantities, and the only
thing required to make us wholly contented was plenty of grain for our
animals. Because of the large number of troops then in West Tennessee and
about Corinth, the indifferent railroad leading down from Columbus, Ky.,
was taxed to its utmost capacity to transport supplies. The quantity of grain
received at Corinth from the north was therefore limited, and before
reaching the different outposts, by passing through intermediate depots of
supply, it had dwindled to insignificance. I had hopes, however, that this
condition of things might be ameliorated before long by gathering a good
supply of corn that was ripening in the neighborhood, and would soon, I
thought, be sufficiently hard to feed to my animals. Not far from my
headquarters there was a particularly fine field, which, with this end in
view, I had carefully protected through the milky stage, to the evident
disappointment of both Asboth's men and mine. They bore the prohibition
well while it affected only themselves, but the trial was too great when it
came to denying their horses; and men whose discipline kept faith with my
guards during the roasting-ear period now fell from grace. Their horses
were growing thin, and few could withstand the mute appeals of their
suffering pets; so at night the corn, because of individual foraging, kept
stealthily and steadily vanishing, until the field was soon fringed with only
earless stalks. The disappearance was noticed, and the guard increased, but
still the quantity of corn continued to grow less, the more honest troopers
bemoaning the loss, and questioning the honor of those to whose
safekeeping it had been entrusted. Finally, doubtless under the apprehension
that through their irregularities the corn would all disappear and find its
way to the horses in accordance with the stealthy enterprise of their owners,
a general raid was made on the field in broad daylight, and though the guard
drove off the marauders, I must admit that its efforts to keep them back
were so unsuccessful that my hopes for an equal distribution of the crop
were quickly blasted. One look at the field told that it had been swept clean

of its grain. Of course a great row occurred as to who was to blame, and
many arrests and trials took place, but there had been such an interchanging
of cap numbers and other insignia that it was next to impossible to identify
the guilty, and so much crimination and acrimony grew out of the affair that
it was deemed best to drop the whole matter.
On August 27 about half of the command was absent reconnoitring, I
having sent it south toward Tupelo, in the hope of obtaining some definite
information regarding a movement to Holly Springs of the remainder of the
Confederate army, under General Price, when about mid-day I was
suddenly aroused by excited cries and sounds of firing, and I saw in a
moment that the enemy was in my camp. He had come in on my right flank
from the direction of the Hatchie River, pell-mell with our picket-post
stationed about three miles out on the Ripley road. The whole force of the
enemy comprised about eight hundred, but only his advance entered with
my pickets, whom he had charged and badly stampeded, without, on their
part, the pretense of a fight in behalf of those whom it was their duty to
protect until proper dispositions for defense could be made. The day was
excessively hot, one of those sultry debilitating days that had caused the
suspending of all military exercises; and as most of the men were lounging
or sleeping in their tents, we were literally caught napping. The alarm
spread instantly through the camp, and in a moment the command turned
out for action, somewhat in deshabille it is true, but none the less effective,
for every man had grabbed his rifle and cartridge-box at the first alarm.
Aided by a few shots from Captain Henry Hescock's battery, we soon drove
the intruders from our camp in about the same disorder in which they had
broken in on us. By this time Colonel Hatch and Colonel Albert L. Lee had
mounted two battalions each, and I moved them out at a lively pace in
pursuit, followed by a section of the battery. No halt was called till we came
upon the enemy's main body, under Colonel Faulkner, drawn up in line of
battle near Newland's store. Opening on him with the two pieces of artillery,
I hurriedly formed line confronting him, and quickly and with but little
resistance drove him in confusion from the field. The sudden turning of the
tables dismayed Faulkner's men, and panic seizing them, they threw away
every loose article of arms or clothing of which they could dismember
themselves, and ran in the wildest disorder in a mad effort to escape. As the
chase went on the panic increased, the clouds of dust from the road causing
an intermingling of friend and foe. In a little while the affair grew most

ludicrous, Faulkner's hatless and coatless men taking to the woods in such
dispersed order and so demoralized that a good many prisoners were
secured, and those of the enemy who escaped were hunted until dark. When
the recall was sounded, our men came in loaded down with plunder in the
shape of hats, haversacks, blankets, pistols, and shotguns, in a quantity
which amply repaid for the surprise of the morning, but did not excuse the
delinquent commander of our picket-guard, who a few days later was
brought to a realizing sense of his duty by a court-martial.
Shortly after this affair Captain Archibald P. Campbell, of the Second
Michigan Cavalry, presented me with the black horse called Rienzi, since
made historical from having been ridden by me in many battles,
conspicuously in the ride from Winchester to Cedar Creek, which has been
celebrated in the poem by T. Buchanan Read. This horse was of Morgan
stock, and then about three years old. He was jet black, excepting three
white feet, sixteen hands high, and strongly built, with great powers of
endurance. He was so active that he could cover with ease five miles an
hour at his natural walking gait. The gelding had been ridden very seldom;
in fact, Campbell had been unaccustomed to riding till the war broke out,
and, I think, felt some disinclination to mount the fiery colt. Campbell had
an affection for him, however, that never waned, and would often come to
my headquarters to see his favorite, the colt being cared for there by the
regimental farrier, an old man named John Ashley, who had taken him in
charge when leaving Michigan, and had been his groom ever since. Seeing
that I liked the horse—I had ridden him on several occasions—Campbell
presented him to me on one of these visits, and from that time till the close
of the war I rode him almost continuously, in every campaign and battle in
which I took part, without once finding him overcome by fatigue, though on
many occasions his strength was severely tested by long marches and short
rations. I never observed in him any vicious habit; a nervousness and
restlessness and switch of the tail, when everything about him was in
repose, being the only indication that he might be untrustworthy. No one
but a novice could be deceived by this, however, for the intelligence
evinced in every feature, and his thoroughbred appearance, were so striking
that any person accustomed to horses could not misunderstand such a noble
animal. But Campbell thought otherwise, at least when the horse was to a
certain degree yet untrained, and could not be pursuaded to ride him;
indeed, for more than a year after he was given to me, Campbell still

retained suspicions of his viciousness, though, along with this mistrust, an
undiminished affection. Although he was several times wounded, this horse
escaped death in action; and living to a ripe old age, died in 1878, attended
to the last with all the care and surrounded with every comfort due the
faithful service he had rendered.

In moving from Corinth east toward Chattanooga, General Buell's army
was much delayed by the requirement that he should repair the Memphis
and Charleston railroad as he progressed. The work of repair obliged him to
march very slowly, and was of but little use when done, for guerrillas and
other bands of Confederates destroyed the road again as soon as he had
passed on. But worst of all, the time thus consumed gave General Bragg the
opportunity to reorganize and increase his army to such an extent that he
was able to contest the possession of Middle Tennessee and Kentucky.
Consequently, the movement of this army through Tennessee and Kentucky
toward the Ohio River—its objective points being Louisville and Cincinnati
—was now well defined, and had already rendered abortive General Buell's
designs on Chattanooga and East Tennessee. Therefore extraordinary efforts

on the part of the Government became necessary, and the concentration of
National troops at Louisville and Cincinnati to meet the contingency of
Bragg's reaching those points was an obvious requirement. These troops
were drawn from all sections in the West where it was thought they could
be spared, and among others I was ordered to conduct thither—to Louisville
or Cincinnati, as subsequent developments might demand—my regiment,
Hescock's battery, the Second and Fifteenth Missouri, and the Thirty-sixth
and Forty-fourth Illinois regiments of infantry, known as the "Pea Ridge
Brigade." With this column I marched back to Corinth on the 6th of
September, 1862, for the purpose of getting railroad transportation to
Columbus, Kentucky.
At Corinth I met General Grant, who by this time had been reestablished
in favor and command somewhat, General Halleck having departed for
Washington to assume command of the army as General-in-Chief. Before
and during the activity which followed his reinstatement, General Grant had
become familiar with my services through the transmission to Washington
of information I had furnished concerning the enemy's movements, and by
reading reports of my fights and skirmishes in front, and he was loth to let
me go. Indeed, he expressed surprise at seeing me in Corinth, and said he
had not expected me to go; he also plainly showed that he was much hurt at
the inconsiderate way in which his command was being depleted. Since I
was of the opinion that the chief field of usefulness and opportunity was
opening up in Kentucky, I did not wish him to retain me, which he might
have done, and I impressed him with my conviction, somewhat
emphatically, I fear. Our conversation ended with my wish gratified. I
afterward learned that General Granger, whom General Grant did not fancy,
had suggested that I should take to Cincinnati the main portion of Granger's
command—the Pea Ridge Brigade—as well as the Second Michigan
Cavalry, of which I was still colonel. We started that night, going by rail
over the Mobile and Ohio road to Columbus, Ky., where we embarked on
steamboats awaiting us. These boats were five in number, and making one
of them my flag-ship, expecting that we might come upon certain batteries
reported to be located upon the Kentucky shore of the Ohio, I directed the
rest to follow my lead. Just before reaching Caseyville, the captain of a tin-
clad gunboat that was patrolling the river brought me the information that
the enemy was in strong force at Caseyville, and expressed a fear that my
fleet could not pass his batteries. Accepting the information as correct, I

concluded to capture the place before trying to pass up the river. Pushing in
to the bank as we neared the town, I got the troops ashore and moved on
Caseyville, in the expectation of a bloody fight, but was agreeably surprised
upon reaching the outskirts of the village by an outpouring of its inhabitants
—men, women, and children—carrying the Stars and Stripes, and making
the most loyal professions. Similar demonstrations of loyalty had been
made to the panic-stricken captain of the gunboat when he passed down the
river, but he did not stay to ascertain their character, neither by landing nor
by inquiry, for he assumed that on the Kentucky bank of the river there
could be no loyalty. The result mortified the captain intensely; and deeming
his convoy of little further use, he steamed toward Cairo in quest of other
imaginary batteries, while I re-embarked at Caseyville, and continued up
the Ohio undisturbed. About three miles below Cincinnati I received
instructions to halt, and next day I was ordered by Major-General H. G.
Wright to take my troops back to Louisville, and there assume command of
the Pea Ridge Brigade, composed of the Second and Fifteenth Missouri,
Thirty-sixth and Forty-fourth Illinois infantry, and of such other regiments
as might be sent me in advance of the arrival of General Buell's army. When
I reached Louisville I reported to Major-General William Nelson, who was
sick, and who received me as he lay in bed. He asked me why I did not
wear the shoulder-straps of my rank. I answered that I was the colonel of
the Second Michigan cavalry, and had on my appropriate shoulder-straps.
He replied that I was a brigadier-general for the Booneville fight, July 1,
and that I should wear the shoulder-straps of that grade. I returned to my
command and put it in camp; and as I had no reluctance to wearing the
shoulder-straps of a brigadier-general, I was not long in procuring a pair,
particularly as I was fortified next day by receiving from Washington
official information of my appointment as a brigadier-general, to date from
July 1, 1862, the day of the battle of Booneville

CHAPTER XI.

GOOD ADVICE FROM GENERAL NELSON—HIS TRAGIC DEATH
—PUTTING LOUISVILLE IN A STATE OF DEFENSE—ASSIGNED TO
THE COMMAND OF THE ELEVENTH DIVISION—CAPTURE OF
CHAPLIN HEIGHTS—BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE—REPORTED
AMONG THE KILLED—A THRILLING INCIDENT—GENERAL
BUELL RELIEVED BY GENERAL ROSECRANS.
I reported to Major-General Nelson at the Galt House in Louisville,
September 14, 1862, who greeted me in the bluff and hearty fashion of a
sailor—for he had been in the navy till the breaking out of the war. The new
responsibilities that were now to fall upon me by virtue of increased rank
caused in my mind an uneasiness which, I think, Nelson observed at the
interview, and he allayed it by giving me much good advice, and most
valuable information in regard to affairs in Kentucky, telling me also that he
intended I should retain in my command the Pea Ridge Brigade and
Hescock's battery. This latter assurance relieved me greatly, for I feared the
loss of these troops in the general redistribution which I knew must soon
take place; and being familiar with their valuable service in Missouri, and
having brought them up from Mississippi, I hoped they would continue
with me. He directed me to take position just below the city with the Pea
Ridge Brigade, Hescock's battery, and the Second Michigan Cavalry,
informing me, at the same time, that some of the new regiments, then
arriving under a recent call of the President for volunteers, would also be
assigned to my command. Shortly after the interview eight new regiments
and an additional battery joined me, thus making good his promise of more
troops.
A few days later came Nelson's tragic end, shocking the whole country.
Those of us in camp outside of the city were startled on the morning of
September 29 by the news that General Jefferson C. Davis, of the Union
Army, had shot General Nelson at the Galt House, and the wildest rumors in
regard to the occurrence came thick and fast; one to the effect that Nelson
was dead, another having it that he was living and had killed Davis, and still

others reflecting on the loyalty of both, it being supposed by the general
public at first that the difficulty between the two men had grown out of
some political rather than official or personal differences. When the news
came, I rode into the city to the Galt House to learn the particulars, reaching
there about 10 o'clock in the forenoon. Here I learned that Nelson had been
shot by Davis about two hours before, at the foot of the main stairway
leading from the corridor just beyond the office to the second floor, and that
Nelson was already dead. It was almost as difficult to get reliable
particulars of the matter at the hotel as it had been in my camp, but I
gathered that the two men had met first at an early hour near the counter of
the hotel office, and that an altercation which had begun several days before
in relation to something official was renewed by Davis, who, attempting to
speak to Nelson in regard to the subject-matter of their previous dispute,
was met by an insulting refusal to listen. It now appears that when Nelson
made this offensive remark, Davis threw a small paper ball that he was
nervously rolling between his fingers into Nelson's face, and that this insult
was returned by Nelson slapping Davis (Killed by a Brother Soldier.—Gen.
J. B. Fry.) in the face. But at the time, exactly what had taken place just
before the shooting was shrouded in mystery by a hundred conflicting
stories, the principal and most credited of which was that Davis had
demanded from Nelson an apology for language used in the original
altercation, and that Nelson's refusal was accompanied by a slap in the face,
at the same moment denouncing Davis as a coward. However this may be,
Nelson, after slapping Davis, moved toward the corridor, from which a
stairway led to the second floor, and just as he was about to ascend, Davis
fired with a pistol that he had obtained from some one near by after the
blow had been struck. The ball entered Nelson's breast just above the heart,
but his great strength enabled him to ascend the stairway notwithstanding
the mortal character of the wound, and he did not fall till he reached the
corridor on the second floor. He died about half an hour later. The tragedy
cast a deep gloom over all who knew the men, for they both had many
warm personal friends; and affairs at Louisville had hardly recovered as yet
from the confused and discouraging condition which preceded the arrival of
General Buell's army. General Buell reported the killing of Nelson to the
authorities at Washington, and recommended the trial of Davis by court-
martial, but no proceedings were ever instituted against him in either a civil
or military court, so to this day it has not been determined judicially who

was the aggressor. Some months later Davis was assigned to the command
of a division in Buell's army after that officer had been relieved from its
command.
Two Confederate armies, under General Kirby Smith and General
Braxton Bragg, had penetrated into Kentucky, the one under Smith by the
way of Cumberland Gap, the other and main army under Bragg by way of
the Sequatche Valley, Glasgow, and Mumfordsville. Glasgow was captured
by the enemy on the 17th of September, and as the expectation was that
Buell would reach the place in time to save the town, its loss created
considerable alarm in the North, for fears were now entertained that Bragg
would strike Louisville and capture the city before Buell could arrive on the
ground. It became necessary therefore to put Louisville in a state of
defense, and after the cordon of principal works had been indicated, my
troops threw up in one night a heavy line of rifle-pits south of the city, from
the Bardstown pike to the river. The apprehended attack by Bragg never
came, however, for in the race that was then going on between him and
Buell on parallel roads, the Army of the Ohio outmarched the Confederates,
its advance arriving at Louisville September 25.
General Buell immediately set about reorganizing the whole force, and
on September 29 issued an order designating the troops under my command
as the Eleventh Division, Army of the Ohio, and assigning Brigadier-
General J. T. Boyle to command the division, and me to command one of its
brigades. To this I could not object, of course, for I was a brigadier-general
of very recent date, and could hardly expect more than a brigade. I had
learned, however, that at least one officer to whom a high command had
been given—a corps—had not yet been appointed a general officer by the
President, and I considered it somewhat unfair that I should be relegated to
a brigade, while men who held no commissions at all were being made
chiefs of corps and divisions; so I sought an interview with General Buell's
chief-of-staff, Colonel Fry, and, while not questioning Buell's good
intentions nor his pure motives, insisted that my rights in the matter should
be recognized. That same evening I was assigned to the command of the
Eleventh Division, and began preparing it at once for a forward movement,
which I knew must soon take place in the resumption of offensive
operations by the Army of the Ohio.

During the interval from September 25 till October 1 there was among
the officers much criticism of General Buell's management of the recent
campaign, which had resulted in his retirement to Louisville; and he was
particularly censured by many for not offering battle to General Bragg
while the two armies were marching parallel to each other, and so near that
an engagement could have been brought on at any one of several points—
notably so at Glasgow, Kentucky, if there had been a desire to join issue. It
was asserted, and by many conceded, that General Buell had a sufficient
force to risk a fight. He was much blamed for the loss of Mumfordsville
also. The capture of this point, with its garrison, gave Bragg an advantage in
the race toward the Ohio River, which odds would most likely have ensured
the fall of Louisville had they been used with the same energy and skill that
the Confederate commander displayed from Chattanooga to Glasgow; but
something always diverted General Bragg at the supreme moment, and he
failed to utilize the chances falling to him at this time, for, deflecting his
march to the north toward Bardstown, he left open to Buell the direct road
to Louisville by way of Elizabethtown.
At Bardstown Bragg's army was halted while he endeavored to establish
a Confederate government in Kentucky by arranging for the installation of a
provisional governor at Lexington. Bragg had been assured that the
presence of a Confederate army in Kentucky would so encourage the
secession element that the whole State could be forced into the rebellion
and his army thereby largely increased; but he had been considerably
misled, for he now found that though much latent sympathy existed for his
cause, yet as far as giving active aid was concerned, the enthusiasm
exhibited by the secessionists of Kentucky in the first year of the war was
now replaced by apathy, or at best by lukewarmness. So the time thus spent
in political machinations was wholly lost to Bragg; and so little
reinforcement was added to his army that it may be said that the recruits
gained were not enough to supply the deficiencies resulting from the recent
toilsome marches of the campaign.
In the meanwhile Buell had arrived at Louisville, system had been
substituted for the chaos which had previously obtained there, and orders
were issued for an advance upon the enemy with the purpose of attacking
and the hope of destroying him within the limits of the "blue grass" region,
and, failing in that, to drive him from Kentucky. The army moved October
1, 1862, and my division, now a part of the Third Corps, commanded by

General C. C. Gilbert, marched directly on Bardstown, where it was thought
the enemy would make a stand, but Bragg's troops retreated toward
Perryville, only resisting sufficiently to enable the forces of General Kirby
Smith to be drawn in closer—they having begun a concentration at
Frankfort—so they could be used in a combined attack on Louisville as
soon as the Confederate commander's political projects were perfected.
Much time was consumed by Buell's army in its march on Perryville, but
we finally neared it on the evening of October 7. During the day, Brigadier-
General Robert B. Mitchell's division of Gilbert's corps was in the advance
on the Springfield pike, but as the enemy developed that he was in strong
force on the opposite side of a small stream called Doctor's Creek, a
tributary of Chaplin River, my division was brought up and passed to the
front. It was very difficult to obtain water in this section of Kentucky, as a
drought had prevailed for many weeks, and the troops were suffering so for
water that it became absolutely necessary that we should gain possession of
Doctor's Creek in order to relieve their distress. Consequently General
Gilbert, during the night, directed me to push beyond Doctor's Creek early
the next morning. At daylight on the 8th I moved out Colonel Dan
McCook's brigade and Barnett's battery for the purpose, but after we had
crossed the creek with some slight skirmishing, I found that we could not
hold the ground unless we carried and occupied a range of hills, called
Chaplin Heights, in front of Chaplin River. As this would project my
command in the direction of Perryville considerably beyond the troops that
were on either flank, I brought up Laiboldt's brigade and Hescock's battery
to strengthen Colonel McCook. Putting both brigades into line we quickly
carried the Heights, much to the surprise of the enemy, I think, for he did
not hold on to the valuable ground as strongly as he should have done. This
success not only ensured us a good supply of water, but also, later in the
day, had an important bearing in the battle of Perryville. After taking the
Heights, I brought up the rest of my division and intrenched, without much
difficulty, by throwing up a strong line of rifle-pits, although the enemy's
sharpshooters annoyed us enough to make me order Laiboldt's brigade to
drive them in on the main body. This was successfully done in a few
minutes, but in pushing them back to Chaplin River, we discovered the
Confederates forming a line of battle on the opposite bank, with the
apparent purpose of an attack in force, so I withdrew the brigade to our
intrenchments on the crest and there awaited the assault.

While this skirmishing was going on, General Gilbert—the corps
commander—whose headquarters were located on a hill about a mile
distant to the rear, kept sending me messages by signal not to bring on an
engagement. I replied to each message that I was not bringing on an
engagement, but that the enemy evidently intended to do so, and that I
believed I should shortly be attacked. Soon after returning to the crest and
getting snugly fixed in the rifle-pits, my attention was called to our left, the
high ground we occupied affording me in that direction an unobstructed
view. I then saw General A. McD. McCook's corps—the First-advancing
toward Chaplin River by the Mackville road, apparently unconscious that
the Confederates were present in force behind the stream. I tried by the use
of signal flags to get information of the situation to these troops, but my
efforts failed, and the leading regiments seemed to approach the river
indifferently prepared to meet the sudden attack that speedily followed,
delivered as it was from the chosen position of the enemy. The fury of the
Confederate assault soon halted this advance force, and in a short time
threw it into confusion, pushed it back a considerable distance, and
ultimately inflicted upon it such loss of men and guns as to seriously cripple
McCook's corps, and prevent for the whole day further offensive movement
on his part, though he stoutly resisted the enemy's assaults until 4 o'clock in
the afternoon.
Seeing McCook so fiercely attacked, in order to aid him I advanced
Hescock's battery, supported by six regiments, to a very good position in
front of a belt of timber on my extreme left, where an enfilading fire could
be opened on that portion of the enemy attacking the right of the First
Corps, and also on his batteries across Chaplin River. But at this juncture he
placed two batteries on my right and began to mass troops behind them, and
General Gilbert, fearing that my intrenched position on the heights might be
carried, directed me to withdraw Hescock and his supports and return them
to the pits. My recall was opportune, for I had no sooner got back to my
original line than the Confederates attacked me furiously, advancing almost
to my intrenchments, notwithstanding that a large part of the ground over
which they had to move was swept by a heavy fire of canister from both my
batteries. Before they had quite reached us, however, our telling fire made
them recoil, and as they fell back, I directed an advance of my whole
division, bringing up my reserve regiments to occupy the crest of the hills;
Colonel William P. Carlin's brigade of Mitchell's division meanwhile

moving forward on my right to cover that flank. This advance pressed the
enemy to Perryville, but he retired in such good order that we gained
nothing but some favorable ground that enabled me to establish my
batteries in positions where they could again turn their attention to the
Confederates in front of McCook, whose critical condition was shortly after
relieved, however, by a united pressure of Gilbert's corps against the flank
of McCook's assailants, compelling them to retire behind Chaplin River.
The battle virtually ended about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, though more
or less desultory firing continued until dark. Considering the severity of the
engagement on McCook's front, and the reverses that had befallen him, I
question if, from that part of the line, much could have been done toward
retrieving the blunders of the day, but it did seem to me that, had the
commander of the army been able to be present on the field, he could have
taken advantage of Bragg's final repulse, and there would have remained in
our hands more than the barren field. But no attempt was made to do
anything more till next morning, and then we secured little except the
enemy's killed and most severely wounded.
The operations of my division during the engagement pleased. General
Gilbert very much, and he informed me that he would relax a rigidly
enforced order which General Buell had issued some days before,
sufficiently to permit my trains to come to the front and supply my almost
starving troops with rations. The order in question was one of those issued,
doubtless with a good intent, to secure generally the safety of our trains, but
General Gilbert was not elastic, and on the march he had construed the
order so illiberally that it was next to impossible to supply the men with
food, and they were particularly short in this respect on the eve of the battle.
I had then endeavored to persuade him to modify his iron-clad
interpretation of the order, but without effect, and the only wagons we could
bring up from the general parks in rear were ambulances and those
containing ammunition. So to gain access to our trains was a great boon,
and at that moment a more welcome result than would have been a
complete victory minus this concession.
When the battle ceased General Gilbert asked me to join him at Buell's
headquarters, which were a considerable distance to the rear, so after
making some dispositions for the evening I proceeded there as requested. I
arrived just as Buell was about to sit down to his supper, and noticing that

he was lame, then learned that he had been severely injured by a recent fall
from his horse. He kindly invited me to join him at the table, an invitation
which I accepted with alacrity, enjoying the meal with a relish known only
to a very-hungry man, for I had eaten nothing since morning. Of course the
events of the day were the chief topic of discussion—as they were during
my stay at headquarters—but the conversation indicated that what had
occurred was not fully realized, and I returned to my troops impressed with
the belief that General Buell and his staff-officers were unconscious of the
magnitude of the battle that had just been fought.
It had been expected by Buell that he would fight the enemy on the 9th of
October, but the Confederates disposed of that proposition by attacking us
on the 8th, thus disarranging a tactical conception which, with our superior
numbers, would doubtless have proved successful had it not been
anticipated by an enterprising foe. During the battle on the 8th the Second
Corps, under General Thomas L. Crittenden, accompanied by General
George H. Thomas, lay idle the whole day for want of orders, although it
was near enough to the field to take an active part in the fight; and,
moreover, a large part of Gilbert's corps was unengaged during the pressure
on McCook. Had these troops been put in on the enemy's left at any time
after he assaulted McCook, success would have been beyond question; but
there was no one on the ground authorized to take advantage of the
situation, and the battle of Perryville remains in history an example of lost
opportunities. This was due in some measure probably to General Buell's
accident, but is mainly attributable to the fact that he did not clearly
apprehend Bragg's aim, which was to gain time to withdraw behind Dick's
River all the troops he had in Kentucky, for the Confederate general had no
idea of risking the fate of his army on one general battle at a place or on a
day to be chosen by the Union commander.
Considering the number of troops actually engaged, the losses to Buell
were severe, amounting to something over five thousand in killed,
wounded, and missing. Among the killed were two brigade commanders of
much promise—General James S. Jackson and General William R. Terrill.
McCook's corps lost twelve guns, some of which were recovered next day.
The enemy's loss in killed and wounded we never learned, but it must have
equalled ours; and about four thousand prisoners, consisting principally of
sick and wounded, fell into our hands. In the first report of the battle sent
North to the newspapers I was reported among the killed; but I was pleased

to notice, when the papers reached us a few days later, that the error had
been corrected before my obituary could be written.
The enemy retired from our front the night of the 8th, falling back on
Harrodsburg to form a junction with Kirby Smith, and by taking this line of
retreat opened to us the road to Danville and the chance for a direct march
against his depot of supplies at Bryantsville. We did not take advantage of
this opening, however, and late in the day—on the 9th—my division
marched in pursuit, in the direction of Harrodsburg, which was the apex of
a triangle having for its base a line from Perryville to Danville. The pursuit
was slow, very slow, consuming the evening of the 9th and all of the 10th
and 11th. By cutting across the triangle spoken of above, just south of the
apex, I struck the Harrodsburg-Danville road, near Cave Springs, joining
there Gilbert's left division, which had preceded me and marched through
Harrodsburg. Here we again rested until the intention of the enemy could be
divined, and we could learn on which side of Dick's River he would give us
battle. A reconnoissance sent toward the Dickville crossing developed to a
certainty that we should not have another engagement, however; for it
disclosed the fact that Bragg's army had disappeared toward Camp Dick
Robinson, leaving only a small rear-guard at Danville, which in turn
quickly fled in the direction of Lancaster, after exchanging a few shots with
Hescock's battery.
While this parting salute of deadly projectiles was going on, a little,
daughter of Colonel William J. Landram, whose home was in Danville,
came running out from his house and planted a small national flag on one of
Hescock's guns. The patriotic act was so brave and touching that it thrilled
all who witnessed the scene; and until the close of the war, when peace
separated the surviving officers and men of the battery, that little flag was
protected and cherished as a memento of the Perryville campaign.
Pursuit of the enemy was not continued in force beyond Crab Orchard,
but some portions of the army kept at Bragg's heels until he crossed the
Cumberland River, a part of his troops retiring to Tennessee by way of
Cumberland Gap, but the major portion through Somerset. As the retreat of
Bragg transferred the theatre of operations back to Tennessee, orders were
now issued for a concentration of Buell's army at Bowling Green, with a
view to marching it to Nashville, and my division moved to that point
without noteworthy incident. I reached Bowling Green with a force much

reduced by the losses sustained in the battle of Perryville and by sickness. I
had started from Louisville on October 1 with twelve regiments of infantry
—four old and eight new ones—and two batteries, but many poor fellows,
overcome by fatigue, and diseases induced by the heat, dust, and drought of
the season, had to be left at roadside hospitals. This was particularly the
case with the new regiments, the men of which, much depressed by
homesickness, and not yet inured to campaigning, fell easy victims to the
hardships of war.
At Bowling Green General Buell was relieved, General W. S. Rosecrans
succeeding him. The army as a whole did not manifest much regret at the
change of commanders, for the campaign from Louisville on was looked
upon generally as a lamentable failure, yet there were many who still had
the utmost confidence in General Buell, and they repelled with some
asperity the reflections cast upon him by his critics. These admirers held
him blameless throughout for the blunders of the campaign, but the greater
number laid every error at his door, and even went to the absurdity of
challenging his loyalty in a mild way, but they particularly charged
incompetency at Perryville, where McCook's corps was so badly crippled
while nearly 30,000 Union troops were idle on the field, or within striking
distance. With these it was no use to argue that Buell's accident stood in the
way of his activity, nor that he did not know that the action had assumed the
proportions of a battle. The physical disability was denied or contested, but
even granting this, his detractors claimed that it did not excuse his
ignorance of the true condition of the fight, and finally worsted his
champions by pointing out that Bragg's retreat by way of Harrodsburg
beyond Dick's River so jeopardized the Confederate army, that had a
skillful and energetic advance of the Union troops been made, instead of
wasting precious time in slow and unnecessary tactical manoeuvres, the
enemy could have been destroyed before he could quit the State of
Kentucky.

ENLARGE

CHAPTER XII.

MOVING TO BOWLING GREEN—JAMES CARD, THE SCOUT
AND GUIDE—GENERAL SILL—COLONEL SCHAEFER—COLONEL
G. W. ROBERTS—MOVEMENT ON MURFREESBORO'—OPENING
OF THE BATTLE OF STONE RIVER.
My division had moved from Crab Orchard to Bowling Green by easy
marches, reaching this place November 1. General Rosecrans assumed
command of the department October 30, at Louisville, and joined the army
November 2. There had been much pressure brought to bear on General
Buell to induce him to take measures looking to the occupancy of East
Tennessee, and the clamor to this end from Washington still continued; but
now that Bragg was south of the Cumberland River, in a position
threatening Nashville, which was garrisoned by but a small force, it was
apparent to every one at all conversant with the situation that a battle would
have to be fought somewhere in Middle Tennessee. So, notwithstanding the
pressure from Washington, the army was soon put in motion for Nashville,
and when we arrived there my division went into camp north of the river, on
a plateau just outside the little town of Edgefield, until the movements of
the enemy should be further developed.
While in this camp, on the plantation of Mr. Hobson, there came to my
headquarters one morning an East Tennessean named James Card, who
offered to the Union cause his services in any capacity in which they might
be made useful. This offer, and the relation of his personal history, were
given with such sincerity of speech and manner that in a short time I
became convinced of his honesty of purpose. He was a small, active, busy
man, with a determined way about him, and his countenance indicated great
intelligence. He gave minute information that was of inestimable value to
me regarding East and Middle Tennessee and northern Georgia, for, with a
view to the army's future movements, I was then making a study of the
topography of this region, and posting myself as to Middle Tennessee, for
all knew this would be the scene of active operations whenever the
campaign was resumed. This man, like most of the East Tennesseans whom

I had met, was intensely loyal and patriotic, and the interview led in a few
days to his employment as a scout and guide, and subsequently to the
engaging in the same capacity of two of his brothers, who were good men;
but not quite as active nor so intelligent as he was. Card had been a
colporter, having pedled books, especially religious tracts, over all Middle
and East Tennessee and Georgia, assisted by his brothers at times, and was
therefore thoroughly familiar with these regions, their roads and inhabitants.
He also preached to country congregations occasionally, when ministers
were scarce, and I have no doubt often performed the functions of family
physician in the mountain district. Thus his opportunities were great; and
the loyal people in every section of the country being well known to him
and his brothers, the three began, at this time, a system of scouting and
investigation which bore its first-fruits in specifically locating the different
divisions of Bragg's army, with statements of their strength and condition,
and all with so much accuracy that I thereafter felt reasonably sure that I
could at all times procure such knowledge of the enemy's operations as
would well equip me for any contingency that might arise.
By the middle of November the enemy, having assembled his forces in
Middle Tennessee, showed considerable boldness, and it became necessary
to rearrange the Union lines; so my troops were moved to the south side of
the river, out on the Murfreesboro' pike, to Mill Creek, distant from
Nashville about seven miles. While we were in camp on Mill Creek the
army was reorganized, and General Joshua W. Sill, at his own request, was
assigned to my division, and took command of Colonel Nicholas Greusel's
brigade. My division became at the same time the Third Division, Right
Wing, Fourteenth Army Corps, its three brigades of four regiments each
being respectively commanded by General Sill, Colonel Frederick Schaefer
and Colonel Dan McCook; but a few days later Colonel George W.
Roberts's brigade, from the garrison at Nashville, was substituted for
McCook's.
General Sill was a classmate of mine at the Military Academy, having
graduated in 1853. On graduating he was appointed to the Ordnance Corps,
and served in that department at various arsenals and ordnance depots
throughout the country till early in 1861, when he resigned to accept a
professorship of mathematics and civil engineering at the Brooklyn
Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute. At the breaking out of the war he
immediately tendered his services to the Government, and soon rose to the

colonelcy of the Thirty-Third Ohio Volunteers, and afterward to the rank of
brigadier-general. I knew him well, and was glad that he came to my
division, though I was very loth to relieve Colonel Greusel, of the Thirty-
Sixth Illinois, who had already indicated much military skill and bravery,
and at the battle of Perryville had handled his men with the experience of a
veteran. Sill's modesty and courage were exceeded only by a capacity that
had already been demonstrated in many practical ways, and his untimely
death, almost within a month of his joining me, abruptly closed a career
which, had it been prolonged a little more, not only would have shed
additional lustre on his name, but would have been of marked benefit to his
country.
Colonel Schaefer, of the Second Missouri Infantry, had been absent on
sick-leave during the Kentucky campaign, but about this date he returned to
duty, and by seniority fell in command of the second brigade. He was of
German birth, having come from Baden, where, prior to 1848, he had been
a non-commissioned officer in the service of his State. He took part as an
insurgent in the so-called revolution which occurred at Baden in that year,
and, compelled to emigrate on the suppression of the insurrection, made his
way to this country and settled in St. Louis. Here the breaking out of the
war found him, and through the personal interest which General Sigel took
in him he was commissioned a colonel of volunteers. He had had a pretty
fair education, a taste for the military profession, and was of tall and slender
build, all of which gave him a student-like appearance. He was extremely
excitable and nervous when anticipating a crisis, but always calmed down
to cool deliberation when the critical moment came. With such a man I
could not be less than well satisfied, although the officer whom he replaced
—Colonel Laiboldt—had performed efficient service and shown much
capacity in the recent campaign.
Colonel G. W. Roberts, of the Forty-Second Illinois Infantry, also came
to me in the reorganization. He was an ideal soldier both in mind and body.
He was young, tall, handsome, brave, and dashing, and possessed a
balance-wheel of such good judgment that in his sphere of action no
occasion could arise from which he would not reap the best results. But he
too was destined to lay, down his life within a few days, and on the same
fatal field. His brigade had been performing garrison duty in Nashville
during the siege of that city while Buell's army was in Kentucky, but
disliking the prospect of inactivity pending the operations opening before

us, Roberts had requested and obtained a transfer to the army in the field.
His brigade relieved Colonel Dan McCook's, the latter reluctantly joining
the garrison at Nashville, every one in it disappointed and disgusted that the
circumstances existing at this time should necessitate their relegation to the
harassing and tantalizing duty of protecting our depots and line of supply.
I was fortunate in having such brigade commanders, and no less favored
in the regimental and battery commanders. They all were not only patriots,
but soldiers, and knowing that discipline must be one of the most potent
factors in bringing to a successful termination, the mighty contest in which
our nation was struggling for existence, they studied and practiced its
methods ceaselessly, inspiring with the same spirit that pervaded
themselves the loyal hearts of their subordinate officers and men. All
worked unremittingly in the camp at Mill Creek in preparing for the storm,
which now plainly indicated its speedy coming. Drills, parades, scouts,
foraging expeditions, picket and guard duty, made up the course in this
school of instruction, supplemented by frequent changes in the locations of
the different brigades, so that the division could have opportunity to learn to
break camp quickly and to move out promptly on the march. Foraging
expeditions were particularly beneficial in this respect, and when sent out,
though absent sometimes for days, the men went without tents or
knapsacks, equipped with only one blanket and their arms, ammunition, and
rations, to teach them to shift for themselves with slender means in the
event of necessity. The number of regimental and headquarters wagons was
cut down to the lowest possible figure, and everything made compact by
turning into the supply and ammunition trains of the division all surplus
transportation, and restricting the personal baggage of officers to the fewest
effects possible.
My own staff also was somewhat reorganized and increased at Mill
Creek, and though it had been perfectly satisfactory before, yet, on account
of the changes of troops that had occurred in the command, I found it
necessary to replace valuable officers in some instances, and secure
additional ones in others. The gathering of information about the enemy
was also industriously pursued, and Card and his brothers were used
constantly on expeditions within the Confederate lines, frequently visiting
Murfreesboro', Sparta, Tullahoma, Shelbyville, and other points. What they
learned was reported to army headquarters, often orally through me or
personally communicated by Card himself, but much was forwarded in

official letters, beginning with November 24, when I transmitted accurate
information of the concentration of Bragg's main force at Tullahoma.
Indeed, Card kept me so well posted as to every movement of the enemy,
not only with reference to the troops in my immediate front, but also
throughout his whole army, that General Rosecrans placed the most
unreserved reliance on all his statements, and many times used them to
check and correct the reports brought in by his own scouts.
Slight skirmishes took place frequently during this period, and now and
then heavy demonstrations were made in the neighborhood of Nolensville
by reconnoitring parties from both armies, but none of these ever grew into
a battle. These affairs sprung from the desire of each side to feel his
antagonist, and had little result beyond emphasizing the fact that behind
each line of pickets lay a massed and powerful army busily preparing for
the inevitable conflict and eager for its opening. So it wore on till the
evening of December 25, 1862; then came the order to move forward.
General Rosecrans, in the reorganization of the army, had assigned
Major-General A. McD. McCook to command the right wing, Major-
General George H. Thomas the centre, and Major-General T. L. Crittenden
the left wing. McCook's wing was made up of three divisions, commanded
in order of rank by Brigadier-General Jeff. C. Davis; Brigadier-General R.
W. Johnson, and Brigadier-General P. H. Sheridan. Although the corps
nomenclature established by General Buell was dropped, the grand
divisions into which he had organized the army at Louisville were
maintained, and, in fact, the conditions established then remained
practically unaltered, with the exception of the interchange of some
brigades, the transfer of a few general officers from one wing or division to
another, and the substitution of General Thomas for Gilbert as a corps
commander. The army was thus compact and cohesive, undisturbed by
discord and unembarrassed by jealousies of any moment; and it may be said
that under a commander who, we believed, had the energy and skill
necessary to direct us to success, a national confidence in our invincibility
made us all keen for a test of strength with the Confederates. We had not
long to wait.
Early on the morning of December 26, 1862, in a heavy rain, the army
marched, the movement being directed on Murfreesboro', where the enemy
had made some preparation to go into winter-quarters, and to hold which

town it was hoped he would accept battle. General Thomas moved by the
Franklin and Wilson pikes, General Crittenden by the Murfreesboro' pike,
through Lavergne, and General McCook by the Nolensville pike—Davis's
division in advance. As McCook's command neared Nolensville, I received
a message from Davis informing me that the Confederates were in
considerable force, posted on a range of hills in his front, and requesting me
to support him in an attack he was about to make. When the head of my
column arrived at Nolensville I began massing my troops on the right of the
road, and by the time this formation was nearly completed Davis advanced,
but not meeting with sufficient resistance to demand active assistance from
me, he with his own command carried the hills, capturing one piece of
artillery. This position of the Confederates was a strong one, defending
Knob's Gap, through which the Nolensville and Triune pike passed. On the
27th Johnson's division, followed by mine, advanced to Triune, and
engaged in a severe skirmish near that place, but my troops were not called
into action, the stand made by the enemy being only for the purpose of
gaining time to draw in his outlying troops, which done, he retired toward
Murfreesboro'. I remained inactive at Triune during the 28th, but early on
the 29th moved out by the Bole Jack road to the support of, Davis in his
advance to Stewart's Creek, and encamped at Wilkinson's crossroads, from
which point to Murfreesboro', distant about six miles, there was a good
turnpike. The enemy had sullenly resisted the progress of Crittenden and
McCook throughout the preceding three days, and as it was thought
probable that he might offer battle at Stewart's Creek, Thomas, in pursuance
of his original instructions looking to just such a contingency, had now
fallen into the centre by way of the Nolensville crossroads.
On the morning of the 30th I had the advance of McCook's corps on the
Wilkinson pike, Roberts's brigade leading. At first only slight skirmishing
took place, but when we came within about three miles of Murfreesboro' the
resistance of the enemy's pickets grew serious, and a little further on so
strong that I had to put in two regiments to push them back. I succeeded in
driving them about half a mile, when I was directed by McCook to form
line of battle and place my artillery in position so that I could act in concert
with Davis's division, which he wished to post on my right in the general
line he desired to take up. In obedience to these directions I deployed on the
right of, and oblique to the Wilkinson pike, with a front of four regiments, a
second line of four regiments within short supporting distance, and a

reserve of one brigade in column of regiments to the rear of my centre. All
this time the enemy kept up a heavy artillery and musketry fire on my
skirmishers, he occupying, with his sharpshooters, beyond some open
fields, a heavy belt of timber to my front and right, where it was intended
the left of Davis should finally rest. To gain this point Davis was ordered to
swing his division into it in conjunction with a wheeling movement of my
right brigade, until our continuous line should face nearly due east. This
would give us possession of the timber referred to, and not only rid us of
the annoying fire from the skirmishers screened by it, but also place us
close in to what was now developing as Bragg's line of battle. The
movement was begun about half-past 2, and was successfully executed,
after a stubborn resistance. In this preliminary affair the enemy had put in
one battery of artillery, which was silenced in a little while, however, by
Bush's and Hescock's guns. By sundown I had taken up my prescribed
position, facing almost east, my left (Roberts's brigade) resting on the
Wilkinson pike, the right (Sill's brigade) in the timber we had just gained,
and the reserve brigade (Schaefer's) to the rear of my centre, on some rising
ground in the edge of a strip of woods behind Houghtaling's and Hescock's
batteries. Davis's division was placed in position on my right, his troops
thrown somewhat to the rear, so that his line formed nearly a right angle
with mine, while Johnson's division formed in a very exposed position on
the right of Davis, prolonging the general line just across the Franklin pike.
The centre, under Thomas, had already formed to my left, the right of
Negley's division joining my left in a cedar thicket near the Wilkinson pike,
while Crittenden's corps was posted on the left of Thomas, his left resting
on Stone River, at a point about two miles and a half from Murfreesboro'.
The precision that had characterized every manoeuvre of the past three
days, and the exactness with which each corps and division fell into its
allotted place on the evening of the 30th, indicated that at the outset of the
campaign a well-digested plan of operations had been prepared for us; and
although the scheme of the expected battle was not known to subordinates
of my grade, yet all the movements up to this time had been so successfully
and accurately made as to give much promise for the morrow, and when
night fell there was general anticipation of the best results to the Union
army.

CHAPTER XIII.

ASSAULT ON OUR RIGHT FLANK—OCCUPYING A NEW
POSITION—THE ENEMY CHECKED—TERRIBLE LOSS OF
OFFICERS—AMMUNITION GIVES OUT—RECONSTRUCTING THE
LINE—COLLECTING THE WOUNDED AND BURYING THE DEAD—
DEALING WITH COWARDS—RESULTS OF THE VICTORY.
The enemy under Bragg lay between us and stone River in order of
battle, his general line conforming to the course of that stream. In my
immediate front he appeared to be established in strong force in a dense
cedar wood, just beyond an open valley, which varied from two hundred to
four hundred yards in width, the cedars extending the entire length of the
valley. From the events of the day and evening of the 30th, it was apparent
that the two armies were in close proximity, and orders received during the
night revealed the fact that Rosecrans intended to attack by throwing his left
on the enemy's right, with the expectation of driving it in toward
Murfreesboro', so that the right of Crittenden's corps could attack Bragg's
centre in reverse, while Thomas supported Crittenden by a simultaneous
front assault; and from the movements of the enemy at daylight next
morning, it was plainly indicated that Bragg had planned to swing his left
on our right by an exactly similar manoeuvre, get possession of the railroad
and the Nashville pike, and if possible cut us off from our base at Nashville.
The conceptions in the minds of the two generals were almost identical; but
Bragg took the initiative, beginning his movement about an hour earlier
than the time set by Rosecrans, which gained him an immense advantage in
execution in the earlier stages of the action.
During the evening, feeling keenly all the solicitude which attends one in
anticipation of a battle, I examined my position with great care, inspecting
its whole length several times to remedy any defects that might exist, and to
let the men see that I was alive to their interests and advantages. After dark,
I went back to the rear of my reserve brigade, and establishing my
headquarters behind the trunk of a large fallen tree, which would shelter me

somewhat from the cold December wind, lay down beside a small camp-
fire to get some rest.
At 2 o'clock on the morning of the 31st General Sill came back to me to
report that on his front a continuous movement of infantry and artillery had
been going on all night within the Confederate lines, and that he was
convinced that Bragg was massing on our right with the purpose of making
an attack from that direction early in the morning. After discussing for a
few minutes the probabilities of such a course on the part of the enemy, I
thought McCook should be made acquainted with what was going on, so
Sill and I went back to see him at his headquarters, not far from the
Griscom House, where we found him sleeping on some straw in the angle
of a worm-fence. I waked him up and communicated the intelligence, and
our consequent impressions. He talked the matter over with us for some
little time, but in view of the offensive-defensive part he was to play in the
coming battle, did not seem to think that there was a necessity for any
further dispositions than had already been taken. He said that he thought
Johnson's division would be able to take care of the right, and seemed
confident that the early assault which was to be made from Rosecrans's left
would anticipate and check the designs which we presaged. We two then
returned to my little camp-fire behind the log, and as we continued talking
of what might be expected from the indications on the right, and Sill
becoming more anxious, I directed two regiments from the reserve to report
to him, that they might be placed within very short supporting distance of
his line. He then rejoined his brigade, better satisfied, but still adhering to
the belief he had expressed when first making his report.
Long before dawn my division breakfasted, and was assembled under
arms, the infantry in line, the cannoneers at their pieces, but while we were
thus preparing, all the recent signs of activity in the enemy's camp were
hushed, a death-like stillness prevailing in the cedars to our front. Shortly
after daylight General Hardee opened the engagement, just as Sill had
predicted, by a fierce attack on Johnson's division, the extreme right of the
Union line. Immediate success attending this assault, Hardee extended the
attack gradually along in front of Davis, hip movement taking the form of a
wheel to the right, the pivot being nearly opposite the left of my division.
Johnson's division soon gave way, and two of Davis's brigades were forced
to fall back with it, though stubbornly resisting the determined and
sweeping onset.

In the meantime the enemy had also attacked me, advancing across an
old cotton-field in Sill's front in heavy masses, which were furiously opened
upon by Bush's battery from Sill's line, and by Hescock's and Houghtaling's
batteries, which had an oblique fire on the field from a commanding
position in rear of my centre. The effect of this fire on the advancing
column was terrible, but it continued on till it reached the edge of the timber
where Sill's right lay, when my infantry opened at a range of not over fifty
yards. For a short time the Confederates withstood the fire, but then
wavered, broke, and fell back toward their original line. As they retired,
Sill's brigade followed in a spirited charge, driving them back across the
open ground and behind their intrenchments. In this charge the gallant Sill
was killed; a rifle ball passing through his upper lip and penetrating the
brain. Although this was a heavy loss, yet the enemy's discomfiture was
such as to give us an hour's time, and as Colonel Greusel, Thirty-sixth
Illinois, succeeded to Sill's command, I directed him, as he took charge, to
recall the brigade to its original position, for the turning-column on my
extreme right was now assuming the most menacing attitude, and it was
urgently necessary to prepare for it.
When that portion of the enemy driven back by Sill recovered from its
repulse it again advanced to the attack, this time directing its efforts chiefly
upon my extreme right, and the front of Woodruff's brigade of Davis's
division, which brigade still held on in its first position. In front of my
centre the Confederates were again driven back, but as the assault on
Woodruff was in conjunction with an advance of the column that had forced
Johnson to retire, Woodruff was compelled unfortunately to give way, and
two regiments on the right of my line went with him, till they rallied on the
two reserve regiments which, in anticipation of the enemy's initiatory attack
I had sent to Sill's rear before daylight.
Both Johnson's and Davis's divisions were now practically gone from our
line, having retired with a loss of all formation, and they were being closely
pursued by the enemy, whose columns were following the arc of a circle
that would ultimately carry him in on my rear. In consequence of the fact
that this state of things would soon subject me to a fire in reverse, I hastily
withdrew Sill's brigade and the reserve regiments supporting it, and ordered
Roberts's brigade, which at the close of the enemy's second repulse had
changed front toward the south and formed in column of regiments, to
cover the withdrawal by a charge on the Confederates as they came into the

timber where my right had originally rested. Roberts made the charge at the
proper time, and was successful in checking the enemy's advance, thus
giving us a breathing-spell, during which I was able to take up a new
position with Schaefer's and Sill's brigades on the commanding ground to
the rear, where Hescock's and Houghtaling's batteries had been posted all
the morning.
The general course of this new position was at right angles with my
original line, and it took the shape of an obtuse angle, with my three
batteries at the apex. Davis, and Carlin of his division, endeavored to rally
their men here on my right, but their efforts were practically unavailing,—
though the calm and cool appearance of Carlin, who at the time was
smoking a stumpy pipe, had some effect, and was in strong contrast to the
excited manner of Davis, who seemed overpowered by the disaster that had
befallen his command. But few could be rallied, however, as the men were
badly demoralized, and most of them fell back beyond the Wilkinson pike,
where they reorganized behind the troops of General Thomas.
At this juncture the enemy's turning-column began advancing again in
concert with Cheatham's division, and as the extreme left of the
Confederates was directed on Griscom's house, and their right on the
Blanton house, my new position was in danger of envelopment. No hope of
stemming the tide at this point seemed probable, but to gain time I retained
my ground as long as possible, and until, under directions from General
McCook, I moved to the front from my left flank and attached myself to the
right of Negley's division, which up to this hour had been left almost
undisturbed by the enemy in the line it had taken up the night before. Under
a heavy fire we succeeded in this manoeuvre, Schaefer's brigade marching
first, then the batteries, and Roberts's and Sill's brigades following. When
my division arrived on this new ground, I posted Roberts on Negley's right,
with Hescock's and Bush's guns, the brigade and guns occupying a low
rocky ridge of limestone, which faced them toward Murfreesboro', nearly
south. The rest of my division was aligned facing west, along the edge of a
cedar thicket, the rear rank backed up on the right flank of Roberts, with
Houghtaling's battery in the angle. This presented Sill's and Schaefer's
brigades in an almost opposite direction to the line we had so confidently
taken up the night before, and covered Negley's rear. The enemy, in the
meantime, had continued his wheeling movement till he occupied the
ground that my batteries and reserve brigade had held in the morning, and I

had now so changed my position that the left brigade of my division
approached his intrenchments in front of Stone River, while Sill's and
Schaeffer's brigades, by facing nearly west, confronted the successful troops
that had smashed in our extreme right.
I had hardly got straightened out in this last place when I was attacked by
Cheatham's'division, which, notwithstanding the staggering blows it had
previously received from Sill and Roberts, now again moved forward in
conjunction with the wheeling movement under the immediate command of
Hardee. One of the most sanguinary contests of the day now took place. In
fulfillment of Bragg's original design no doubt, Cheatham's division
attacked on my left, while heavy masses under Hardee, covered by batteries
posted on the high ground formerly occupied by my guns, assaulted my
right, the whole force advancing simultaneously. At the same time the
enemy opened an artillery fire from his intrenchments in front of
Murfreesboro', and it seemed that he was present on every side. My position
was strong, however, located in the edge of a dense cedar thicket and
commanding a slight depression of open ground that lay in my front. My
men were in good spirits too, notwithstanding they had been a good deal
hustled around since daylight, with losses that had told considerably on
their numbers. Only a short distance now separated the contending lines,
and as the batteries on each side were not much more than two hundred
yards apart when the enemy made his assault, the artillery fire was fearful
in its effect on the ranks of both contestants, the enemy's heavy masses
staggering under the torrent of shell and canister from our batteries, while
our lines were thinned by his ricochetting projectiles, that rebounded again
and again over the thinly covered limestone formation and sped on to the
rear of Negley. But all his efforts to dislodge or destroy us were futile, and
for the first time since daylight General Hardee was seriously checked in
the turning movement he had begun for the purpose of getting possession of
the Nashville pike, and though reinforced until two-fifths of Bragg's army
was now at his command, yet he met with repulse after repulse, which
created great gaps in his lines and taught him that to overwhelm us was
hopeless.
As the enemy was recoiling from his first attack, I received a message
from Rosecrans telling me that he was making new dispositions, and
directing me to hold on where I was until they were completed. From this I
judged that the existing conditions of the battle would probably require a

sacrifice of my command, so I informed Roberts and Schaefer that we must
be prepared to meet the demand on us by withstanding the assault of the
enemy, no matter what the outcome. Every energy was therefore bent to the
simple holding of our ground, and as ammunition was getting scarce,
instructions were given throughout the command to have it reserve its fire
till the most effective moment. In a little while came a second and a third
assault, and although they were as daring and furious as the first, yet in each
case the Confederates were repulsed, driven back in confusion, but not
without deadly loss to us, for the noble Roberts was killed, and Colonel
Harrington, of the Twenty-Seventh Illinois, who succeeded to his brigade,
was mortally wounded a few minutes later. I had now on the death-roll
three brigade commanders, and the loss of subordinate officers and men
was appalling, but their sacrifice had accomplished the desired result; they
had not fallen in vain. Indeed, the bravery and tenacity of my division gave
to Rosecrans the time required to make new dispositions, and exacted from
our foes the highest commendations.
A lull followed the third fierce assault, and an investigation showed that,
with the exception of a few rounds in my brigade, our ammunition was
entirely exhausted; and while it was apparent that the enemy was reluctant
to renew the conflict in my front, yet I was satisfied I could not hold on
much longer without the danger of ultimate capture, so I prepared to
withdraw as soon as the troops of Rousseau's division, which had been
ordered to take up a line on my right, came into position. Schaefer's and
Sill's brigades being without a cartridge, I directed them to fix bayonets for
a charge, and await any attempt of the enemy to embarrass my retreat, while
Roberts's brigade, offering such resistance as its small quantity of
ammunition would permit, was pulled slowly in toward the Nashville pike.
Eighty of the horses of Houghtaling's battery having been killed, an attempt
was made to bring his guns back by hand over the rocky ground, but it
could not be done, and we had to abandon them. Hescock also had lost most
of his horses, but all his guns were saved. Bush's battery lost two pieces, the
tangled underbrush in the dense cedars proving an obstacle to getting them
away which his almost superhuman exertions could not surmount. Thus far
the bloody duel had cost me heavily, one-third of my division being killed
or wounded. I had already three brigade commanders killed; a little later I
lost my fourth—Colonel Schaefer.

The difficulties of withdrawing were very great, as the ground was
exceptionally rocky, and the growth of cedars almost impenetrable for
wheeled carriages. Retiring sullenly under a heavy fire, while the general
line was reformed to my right and rear, my division was at length drawn
through the cedars and debouched into an open space near the
Murfreesboro' pike, behind the right of Palmer's division. Two regiments of
Sill's brigade, however, on account of the conformation of the ground, were
obliged to fall back from the point where Woodruff's brigade of Davis's
division had rallied after the disaster of the early morning. The division
came out of the cedars with unbroken ranks, thinned by only its killed and
wounded—but few missing. When we came into the open ground, McCook
directed Roberts's brigade—now commanded by Colonel Luther P. Bradley
—to proceed a short distance to the rear on the Nashville pike, to repel the
enemy's threatening attempt at our communications. Willingly and
cheerfully the brigade again entered the fight under these new conditions,
and although it was supplied with but three or four cartridges to the man
now, it charged gallantly and recaptured two pieces of artillery which the
Union troops had had to abandon at that point.
Shortly after we debouched from the cedars I was directed by Rosecrans
to send some aid to the right of General Palmer's division; and two of
Schaefer's regiments, having obtained ammunition, were pushed up on
Palmer's right, accompanied by four of Hescock's guns; but the advance of
the enemy here had already been checked by Palmer, and only a desultory
contest ensued. Rosecrans, whom I now met in the open ground west of the
railroad, behind Palmer, directed that my command should relieve Wood's
division, which was required to fall back and take up the new line that had
been marked out while I was holding on in the cedars. His usually florid
face had lost its ruddy color, and his anxious eyes told that the disasters of
the morning were testing his powers to the very verge of endurance, but he
seemed fully to comprehend what had befallen us. His firmly set lips and,
the calmness with which his instructions were delivered inspired confidence
in all around him; and expressing approbation of what my division had
done, while deliberately directing it to a new point, he renewed in us all the
hope of final victory, though it must be admitted that at this phase of the
battle the chances lay largely with the enemy.
Withdrawing the two regiments and Hescock's battery, that I had posted
on the right of Palmer, I moved as directed by Rosecrans into the position to

the east of the railroad, and formed immediately to the right of Wood, who
was now being attacked all along his front, but more particularly where his
right rested near the railroad. Under a storm of shot and shell that came in
torrents my troops took up the new ground, advancing through a clump of
open timber to Wood's assistance. Forming in line in front of the timber we
poured a telling fire into the enemy's ranks, which were then attacking
across some cleared fields; but when he discovered additional troops
confronting him, he gave up the attempt to carry Wood's position. It was
here that I lost Schaefer, who was killed instantly, making my fourth
brigade commander dead that day. The enemy in front of Wood having been
checked, our whole line east of the railroad executed undisturbed its
retrograde movement to a position about three hundred yards to its rear.
When I fell back to the edge of the clump of timber, where when first
coming on the ground I had formed to help Wood, I was ordered by
Rosecrans to prepare to make a charge should the enemy again assault us.
In anticipation of this work I massed my troops in close column. The
expected attack never came, however, but the shot and shell of a furious
cannonade told with fatal effect upon men and officers as they lay on their
faces hugging the ground. The torments of this trying situation were almost
unbearable, but it was obvious to all that it was necessary to have at hand a
compact body of troops to repel any assault the enemy might make pending
the reconstruction of the extreme right of our line, and a silent
determination to stay seemed to take hold of each individual soldier; nor
was this grim silence interrupted throughout the cannonade, except in one
instance, when one of the regiments broke out in a lusty cheer as a startled
rabbit in search of a new hiding-place safely ran the whole length of the line
on the backs of the men.
While my troops were still lying here, General Rosecrans, with a part of
his staff and a few orderlies, rode out on the rearranged line to supervise its
formation and encourage the men, and in prosecution of these objects
moved around the front of my column of attack, within range of the
batteries that were shelling us so viciously. As he passed to the open ground
on my left, I joined him. The enemy seeing this mounted party, turned his
guns upon it, and his accurate aim was soon rewarded, for a solid shot
carried away the head of Colonel Garesche, the chief-of-staff, and killed or
wounded two or three orderlies. Garesche's appalling death stunned us all,
and a momentary expression of horror spread over Rosecrans's face; but at

such a time the importance of self-control was vital, and he pursued his
course with an appearance of indifference, which, however, those
immediately about him saw was assumed, for undoubtedly he felt most
deeply the death of his friend and trusted staff-officer.
No other attacks were made on us to the east of the railroad for the rest of
the afternoon, and just before dark I was directed to withdraw and take up a
position along the west side of the Nashville pike, on the extreme right of
our new line, where Roberts's brigade and the Seventy-third and Eighty-
eighth Illinois had already been placed by McCook. The day had cost me
much anxiety and sadness, and I was sorely disappointed at the general
result, though I could not be other than pleased at the part taken by my
command. The loss of my brigade commanders—Sill, Roberts, Schaefer,
and Harrington-and a large number of regimental and battery officers, with
so many of their men, struck deep into my heart: My thinned ranks told the
woeful tale of the fierce struggles, indescribable by words, through which
my division had passed since 7 o'clock in the morning; and this, added to
our hungry and exhausted condition, was naturally disheartening. The men
had been made veterans, however, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the
day, and as they went into their new places still confident of final success, it
was plain to see that they felt a self-confidence inspired by the part they had
already played.
My headquarters were now established on the Nashville pike, about three
miles and a half from Murfreesboro'; my division being aligned to the west
of the pike, bowed out and facing almost west, Cleburn's division of the
Confederates confronting it. Davis's division was posted on my right, and
Walker's brigade of Thomas's corps, which had reported to me, took up a
line that connected my left with Johnson's division.
Late in the evening General Rosecrans, accompanied by General
McCook, and several other officers whose names I am now unable to recall,
rode by my headquarters on their way to the rear to look for a new line of
battle—on Overall's creek it was said—that would preserve our
communications with Nashville and offer better facilities for resistance than
the one we were now holding. Considerable time had elapsed when they
returned from this exploration and proceeded to their respective commands,
without intimating to me that anything had been determined upon by the
reconnoissance, but a little later it was rumored through the different

headquarters that while the party was looking for a new position it
discovered the enemy's troops moving toward our right and rear, the head of
his columns being conducted in the darkness by the aid of torches, and that
no alternative was left us but to hold the lines we then occupied. The
torches had been seen unquestionably, and possibly created some alarm at
first in the minds of the reconnoitring party, but it was soon ascertained that
the lights came from a battalion of the Fourth regular cavalry that was
picketing our flank and happened to be starting its bivouac fires at the
moment. The fires and the supposed movements had no weight, therefore,
in deciding the proposition to take up a line at Overall's creek, but General
Rosecrans, fortunately for the army, decided to remain where he was.
Doubtless reflections during his ride caused him to realize that the enemy
must be quite as much crippled as himself. If it had been decided to fall
back to Overall's creek, we could have withdrawn without much difficulty
very likely, but such a retrograde movement would have left to the enemy
the entire battle-field of Stone River and ultimately compelled our retreat to
Nashville.
In the night of December 3rd several slight demonstrations were made on
my front, but from the darkness neither party felt the effect of the other's
fire, and when daylight came again the skirmishers and lines of battle were
in about the same position they had taken up the evening before. Soon after
daybreak it became evident that the conflict was to be renewed, and a little
later the enemy resumed the offensive by an attack along my left front,
especially on Walker's brigade. His attempt was ineffectual, however, and
so easily repulsed as to demonstrate that the desperate character of his
assaults the day before had nearly exhausted his strength. About 3 o'clock in
the afternoon he made another feeble charge on my front, but our fire from
the barricades and rifle-pits soon demoralized his advancing lines, which
fell back in some confusion, thus enabling us to pick up about a hundred
prisoners. From this time till the evening of January 3 Bragg's left remained
in our front, and continued to show itself at intervals by weak
demonstrations, which we afterward ascertained were directly intended to
cover the desperate assault he made with Breckenridge on the left of
Rosecrans, an assault that really had in view only a defensive purpose, for
unless Bragg dislodged the troops which were now massing in front of his
right he would be obliged to withdraw General Polk's corps behind Stone
River and finally abandon Murfreesboro'. The sequel proved this to be the

case; and the ill-judged assault led by Breckenridge ending in entire defeat,
Bragg retired from Murfreesboro' the night of January 3.
General Rosecrans occupied Murfreesboro' on the 4th and 5th, having
gained a costly victory, which was not decisive enough in its character to
greatly affect the general course of the war, though it somewhat
strengthened and increased our hold on Middle Tennessee. The enemy in
retiring did not fall back very far—only behind Duck River to Shelbyville
and Tullahoma—and but little endeavor was made to follow him. Indeed,
we were not in condition to pursue, even if it had been the intention at the
outset of the campaign.
As soon as possible after the Confederate retreat I went over the battle-
field to collect such of my wounded as had not been carried off to the South
and to bury my dead. In the cedars and on the ground where I had been so
fiercely assaulted when the battle opened, on the morning of the 31st,
evidences of the bloody struggle appeared on every hand in the form of
broken fire-arms, fragments of accoutrements, and splintered trees. The
dead had nearly all been left unburied, but as there was likelihood of their
mutilation by roving swine, the bodies had mostly been collected in piles at
different points and inclosed by rail fences. The sad duties of interment and
of caring for the wounded were completed by the 5th, and on the 6th I
moved my division three miles, south of Murfreesboro' on the Shelbyville
pike, going into camp on the banks of Stone River. Here the condition of
my command was thoroughly looked into, and an endeavor made to correct
such defects as had been disclosed by the recent battle.
During the engagement there had been little straggling, and my list of
missing was small and legitimate; still, it was known that a very few had
shirked their duty, and an example was necessary. Among this small number
were four officers who, it was charged, had abandoned their colors and
regiments. When their guilt was clearly established, and as soon as an
opportunity occurred, I caused the whole division to be formed in a hollow
square, closed in mass, and had the four officers marched to the centre,
where, telling them that I would not humiliate any officer or soldier by
requiring him to touch their disgraced swords, I compelled them to deliver
theirs up to my colored servant, who also cut from their coats every insignia
of rank. Then, after there had been read to the command an order from army
headquarters dismissing the four from the service, the scene was brought to

a close by drumming the cowards out of camp. It was a mortifying
spectacle, but from that day no officer in that division ever abandoned his
colors.
My effective force in the battle of Stone River was 4,154 officers and
men. Of this number I lost 1,633 killed, wounded, and missing, or nearly 40
per cent. In the remaining years of the war, though often engaged in most
severe contests, I never experienced in any of my commands so high a rate
of casualties. The ratio of loss in the whole of Rosecrans's army was also
high, and Bragg's losses were almost equally great. Rosecrans carried into
the action about 42,000 officers and men. He lost 13,230, or 31 per cent.
Bragg's effective force was 37,800 officers and men; he lost 10,306, or
nearly 28 per cent.
Though our victory was dearly bought, yet the importance of gaining the
day at any price was very great, particularly when we consider what might
have been the result had not the gallantry of the army and the manoeuvring
during the early disaster saved us from ultimate defeat. We had started out
from Nashville on an offensive campaign, probably with no intention of
going beyond Murfreesboro', in midwinter, but still with the expectation of
delivering a crushing blow should the enemy accept our challenge to battle.
He met us with a plan of attack almost the counterpart of our own. In the
execution of his plan he had many advantages, not the least of which was
his intimate knowledge of the ground, and he came near destroying us. Had
he done so, Nashville would probably have fallen; at all events, Kentucky
would have been opened again to his incursions, and the theatre of war very
likely transferred once more to the Ohio River. As the case now stood,
however, Nashville was firmly established as a base for future operations,
Kentucky was safe from the possibility of being again overrun, and Bragg,
thrown on the defensive, was compelled to give his thoughts to the
protection of the interior of the Confederacy and the security of
Chattanooga, rather than indulge in schemes of conquest north of the
Cumberland River. While he still held on in Middle Tennessee his grasp
was so much loosened that only slight effort would be necessary to push
him back into Georgia, and thus give to the mountain region of East
Tennessee an opportunity to prove its loyalty to the Union.
The victory quieted the fears of the West and Northwest, destroyed the
hopes of the secession element in Kentucky, renewed the drooping spirits of

the East Tennesseans, and demoralized the disunionists in Middle
Tennessee; yet it was a negative victory so far as concerned the result on the
battle-field. Rosecrans seems to have planned the battle with the idea that
the enemy would continue passive, remain entirely on the defensive, and
that it was necessary only to push forward our left in order to force the
evacuation of Murfreesboro'; and notwithstanding the fact that on the
afternoon of December 30 McCook received information that the right of
Johnson's division. resting near the Franklin pike, extended only to about
the centre of the Confederate army, it does not appear that attack from that
quarter was at all apprehended by the Union commanders.
The natural line of retreat of the Confederates was not threatened by the
design of Rosecrans; and Bragg, without risk to his communications,
anticipated it by a counter-attack of like character from his own left, and
demolished his adversary's plan the moment we were thrown on the
defensive. Had Bragg followed up with the spirit which characterized its
beginning the successful attack by Hardee on our right wing—and there
seems no reason why he should not have done so—the army of Rosecrans
still might have got back to Nashville, but it would have been depleted and
demoralized to such a degree as to unfit it for offensive operations for a
long time afterward. Bragg's intrenchments in front of Stone River were
very strong, and there seems no reason why he should not have used his
plain advantage as explained, but instead he allowed us to gain time,
intrench, and recover a confidence that at first was badly shaken. Finally, to
cap the climax of his errors, he directed Breckenridge to make the assault
from his right flank on January 2, with small chance for anything but
disaster, when the real purpose in view could have been accomplished
without the necessity of any offensive manoeuvre whatever.

ENLARGE

CHAPTER XIV.

APPOINTED A MAJOR-GENERAL—THE SECRET EXPEDITION
UNDER CARD THE SCOUT—HIS CAPTURE BY GUERRILLAS—
ESCAPE—A REVENGE PARTY—WOMEN SOLDIERS—A FIGHT
WITH SABRES—TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN—A FOOLISH
ADVENTURE.
On the 6th of January, 1863, my division settled quietly down in its camp
south of Murfreesboro'. Its exhausted condition after the terrible
experiences of the preceding week required attention. It needed
recuperation, reinforcement, and reorganization, and I set about these
matters without delay, in anticipation of active operations early in the
spring. No forward movement was made for nearly six months, however,
and throughout this period drills, parades, reconnoissances, and foraging
expeditions filled in the time profitably. In addition to these exercises the
construction of permanent fortifications for the security of Murfreesboro'
was undertaken by General Rosecrans, and large details from my troops
were furnished daily for the work. Much attention was also given to
creating a more perfect system of guard and picket duty-a matter that had
hitherto been somewhat neglected in the army, as its constant activity had
permitted scant opportunity for the development of such a system. It was at
this time that I received my appointment as a major-general of Volunteers.
My promotion had been recommended by General Rosecrans immediately
after the battle of Stone River, but for some reason it was delayed until
April, and though a long time elapsed between the promise and the
performance, my gratification was extreme.
My scout, Card, was exceedingly useful while encamped near
Murfreesboro, making several trips to East Tennessee within the enemy's
lines to collect information as to the condition of the loyal people there, and
to encourage them with the hope of early liberation. He also brought back
from each trip very accurate statements as to the strength and doings of the
Confederate army, fixing almost with certainty its numbers and the
locations of its different divisions, and enabling my engineer-officer—

Major Morhardt—to construct good maps of the country in our front. On
these dangerous excursions Card was always accompanied by one of his
brothers, the other remaining with me to be ready for duty if any accident
occurred to those who had gone out, or in case I wanted to communicate
with them. In this way we kept well posted, although the intelligence these
men brought was almost always secured at the risk of their lives.
Early in the spring, before the Tullahoma campaign began, I thought it
would be practicable, by sending out a small secret expedition of but three
or four men, to break the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad between
Chattanooga and the enemy's position at Tullahoma by burning the bridges
in Crow Creek valley from its head to Stevenson, Alabama, and then the
great bridge across the Tennessee River at Bridgeport. Feeling confident
that I could persuade Card to undertake the perilous duty, I broached the
contemplated project to him, and he at once jumped at the opportunity of
thus distinguishing himself, saying that with one of his brothers and three
other loyal East Tennesseeans, whose services he knew could be enlisted,
he felt sure of carrying out the idea, so I gave him authority to choose his
own assistants. In a few days his men appeared at my headquarters, and
when supplied with money in notes of the State Bank of Tennessee, current
everywhere as gold in those days, the party, composed of Card, the second
brother, and the three East Tennesseeans, started on their precarious
enterprise, their course being directed first toward the Cumberland
Mountains, intending to strike the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad
somewhere above Anderson's station. They expected to get back in about
fifteen days, but I looked for some knowledge of the progress of their
adventure before the expiration of that period, hoping to hear through
Confederate sources prisoners and the like-of the destruction of the bridges.
I waited in patience for such news, but none came, and as the time Card had
allotted himself passed by, I watched anxiously for his return, for, as there
was scarcely a doubt that the expedition had proved a failure, the fate of the
party became a matter of deep concern to Card's remaining brother and to
me. Finally this brother volunteered to go to his father's house in East
Tennessee to get tidings of the party, and I consented, for the probabilities
were that some of them had made their way to that point, or at least that
some information had reached there about them. As day after day went by,
the time fixed for this brother's return came round, yet he also remained out;
but some days after the lad was due Card himself turned up accompanied by

the brother he had taken with him, soon explained his delay in getting back,
and gave me the story of his adventures while absent.
After leaving my camp, his party had followed various byways across the
Cumberland Mountains to Crow Creek Valley, as instructed; but when
nearing the railroad above Anderson's Station, they were captured by some
guerrillas prowling about that vicinity, and being suspected of disloyalty to
the Confederacy, were carried to Chattanooga and imprisoned as Yankee
spies. Their prospects now were decidedly discouraging, for death stared
them in the face. Fortunately, however, some delays occurred relative to the
disposition that should be made of them, and they, meanwhile, effected their
escape from their jailors by way of one of the prison windows, from which
they managed to displace a bar, and by a skiff, in the darkness of night,
crossed the Tennessee River a little below Chattanooga. From this point the
party made their way back to my camp, traveling only at night, hiding in the
woods by day, and for food depending on loyal citizens that Card had
become acquainted with when preaching and peddling.
Card's first inquiry after relating his story was for the youngest brother,
whom he had left with me. I told him what I had done, in my anxiety about
himself, and that more than sufficient time had elapsed for his brother's
return. His reply was: "They have caught him. The poor fellow is dead." His
surmise proved correct; for news soon came that the poor boy had been
captured at his father's house, and hanged. The blow to Card was a severe
one, and so hardened his heart against the guerrillas in the neighborhood of
his father's home—for he knew they were guilty of his brother's murder—
that it was with difficulty I could persuade him to continue in the
employment of the Government, so determined was he to avenge his
brother's death at the first opportunity. Finally, however, I succeeded in
quieting the almost uncontrollable rage that seemed to possess him, and he
remained with me during the Tullahoma and Chickamauga campaigns; but
when we reached Knoxville the next winter, he took his departure,
informing me that he was going for the bushwhackers who had killed his
brother. A short time after he left me, I saw him at the head of about thirty
well-armed East Tennesseeans—refugees. They were determined-looking
men, seeking revenge for the wrongs and sufferings that had been put upon
them in the last two years, and no doubt wreaked their vengeance right and
left on all who had been in any way instrumental in persecuting them.

The feeding of our army from the base at Louisville was attended with a
great many difficulties, as the enemy's cavalry was constantly breaking the
railroad and intercepting our communications on the Cumberland River at
different points that were easily accessible to his then superior force of
troopers. The accumulation of reserve stores was therefore not an easy task,
and to get forage ahead a few days was well-nigh impossible, unless that
brought from the North was supplemented by what we could gather from
the country. Corn was abundant in the region to the south and southwest of
Murfreesboro', so to make good our deficiences in this respect, I employed
a brigade about once a week in the duty of collecting and bringing in
forage, sending out sometimes as many as a hundred and fifty wagons to
haul the grain which my scouts had previously located. In nearly every one
of these expeditions the enemy was encountered, and the wagons were
usually loaded while the skirmishers kept up a running fire, Often there
would occur a respectable brush, with the loss on each side of a number of
killed and wounded. The officer in direct command always reported to me
personally whatever had happened during the time he was out—the result of
his reconnoissance, so to speak, for that war the real nature of these
excursions—and on one occasion the colonel in command, Colonel Conrad,
of the Fifteenth Missouri, informed me that he got through without much
difficulty; in fact, that everything had gone all right and been eminently
satisfactory, except that in returning he had been mortified greatly by the
conduct of the two females belonging to the detachment and division train
at my headquarters. These women, he said, had given much annoyance by
getting drunk, and to some extent demoralizing his men. To say that I was
astonished at his statement would be a mild way of putting it, and had I not
known him to be a most upright man and of sound sense, I should have
doubted not only his veracity, but his sanity. Inquiring who they were and
for further details, I was informed that there certainly were in the command
two females, that in some mysterious manner had attached themselves to
the service as soldiers; that one, an East Tennessee woman, was a teamster
in the division wagon-train and the other a private soldier in a cavalry
company temporarily attached to my headquarters for escort duty. While
out on the foraging expedition these Amazons had secured a supply of
"apple-jack" by some means, got very drunk, and on the return had fallen
into Stone River and been nearly drowned. After they had been fished from,
the water, in the process of resuscitation their sex was disclosed, though up

to this time it appeared to be known only to each other. The story was
straight and the circumstance clear, so, convinced of Conrad's continued
sanity, I directed the provost-marshal to bring in arrest to my headquarters
the two disturbers of Conrad's peace of mind, After some little search the
East Tennessee woman was found in camp, somewhat the worse for the
experiences of the day before, but awaiting her fate content idly smoking a
cob-pipe. She was brought to me, and put in duress under charge of the
division surgeon until her companion could be secured. To the doctor she
related that the year before she had "refugeed" from East Tennessee, and on
arriving in Louisville assumed men's apparel and sought and obtained
employment as a teamster in the quartermaster's department. Her features
were very large, and so coarse and masculine was her general appearance
that she would readily have passed as a man, and in her case the deception
was no doubt easily practiced. Next day the "she dragoon" was caught, and
proved to be a rather prepossessing young woman, and though necessarily
bronzed and hardened by exposure, I doubt if, even with these marks of
campaigning, she could have deceived as readily as did her companion.
How the two got acquainted, I never learned, and though they had joined
the army independently of each other, yet an intimacy had sprung up
between them long before the mishaps of the foraging expedition. They
both were forwarded to army headquarters, and, when provided with
clothing suited to their sex, sent back to Nashville, and thence beyond our
lines to Louisville.
On January 9, by an order from the War Department, the Army of the
Cumberland had been divided into three corps, designated the Fourteenth,
Twentieth, and Twenty-first. This order did not alter the composition of the
former grand divisions, nor change the commanders, but the new
nomenclature was a decided improvement over the clumsy designations
Right Wing, Centre, and Left Wing, which were well calculated to lead to
confusion sometimes. McCook's wing became the Twentieth Corps, and my
division continued of the same organization, and held the same number as
formerly-the Third Division, Twentieth Corps. My first brigade was now
commanded by Brigadier-General William H. Lytle, the second by Colonel
Bernard Laiboldt, and the third by Colonel Luther P. Bradley.
On the 4th of March I was directed to move in light marching order
toward Franklin and join General Gordon Granger, to take part in some
operations which he was projecting against General Earl Van Dorn, then at

Spring Hill. Knowing that my line of march would carry me through a
region where forage was plentiful, I took along a large train of empty
wagons, which I determined to fill with corn and send back to
Murfreesboro', believing that I could successfully cover the train by Minty's
brigade of cavalry, which had joined me for the purpose of aiding in a
reconnoissance toward Shelbyville. In marching the column I placed a
regiment of infantry at its head, then the wagon-train, then a brigade of
infantry—masking the cavalry behind this brigade. The enemy, discovering
that the train was with us, and thinking he could capture it, came boldly out
with his, cavalry to attack. The head of his column came up to the
crossroads at Versailles, but holding him there, I passed the train and
infantry brigade beyond toward Eagleville, and when my cavalry had been
thus unmasked, Minty, followed by the balance of my division, which was
still behind, charged him with the sabre. Success was immediate and
complete, and pursuit of the routed forces continued through Unionville,
until we fell upon and drove in the Confederate outposts at Shelbyville.
Here the enemy was taken by surprise evidently, which was most fortunate
for us, otherwise the consequences might have been disastrous. Minty
captured in the charge about fifty prisoners and a few wagons and mules,
and thus enabled me to load my train with corn, and send it back to
Murfreesboro' unmolested. In this little fight the sabre was freely used by
both sides, and I do not believe that during the whole war I again knew of
so large a percentage of wounds by that arm in proportion to the numbers
engaged.
That night I encamped at Eagleville, and next day reported to Granger at
Franklin, arriving in the midst of much excitement prevailing on account of
the loss of Coburn's brigade, which had been captured the day before a little
distance south of that point, while marching to form a junction with a
column that had been directed on Columbia from Murfreesboro'. Shortly
after Coburn's capture General Granger had come upon the scene, and the
next day he advanced my division and Minty's troops directly on Spring
Hill, with a view to making some reprisal; but Van Dorn had no intention of
accommodating us, and retired from Spring Hill, offering but little
resistance. He continued to fall back, till finally he got behind Duck River,
where operations against him ceased; for, in consequence of the incessant
rains of the season, the streams had become almost impassable. Later, I
returned by way of Franklin to my old camp at Murfreesboro', passing over

on this march the ground on which the Confederate General Hood met with
such disaster the following year in his attack on Stanley's corps.
My command had all returned from the Franklin expedition to
Murfreesboro' and gone into camp on the Salem pike by the latter part of
March, from which time till June it took part in only the little affairs of
outposts occurring every now and then on my own front. In the meanwhile
General Rosecrans had been materially reinforced by the return of sick and
wounded men; his army had become well disciplined, and was tolerably
supplied; and he was repeatedly pressed by the authorities at Washington to
undertake offensive operations.
During the spring and early summer Rosecrans resisted, with a great deal
of spirit and on various grounds, these frequent urgings, and out of this
grew up an acrimonious correspondence and strained feeling between him
and General Halleck. Early in June, however, stores had been accumulated
and other preparations made for a move forward, Resecrans seeming to
have decided that he could safely risk an advance, with the prospect of good
results. Before finally deciding, he called upon most of his corps and
division commanders for their opinions on certain propositions which he
presented, and most of them still opposed the projected movement, I among
the number, reasoning that while General Grant was operating against
Vicksburg, it was better to hold Bragg in Middle Tennessee than to push
him so far back into Georgia that interior means of communication would
give the Confederate Government the opportunity of quickly joining a part
of his force to that of General Johnson in Mississippi.
At this stage, and in fact prior to it, Rosecrans seemed to manifest special
confidence in me, often discussing his plans with me independent of the
occasions on which he formally referred them for my views. I recollect that
on two different occasions about this time he unfolded his designs to me in
this informal way, outlining generally how he expected ultimately to force
Bragg south of the Tennessee River, and going into the details of the
contemplated move on Tullahoma. His schemes, to my mind, were not only
comprehensive, but exact, and showed conclusively, what no one doubted
then, that they were original with him. I found in them very little to criticise
unfavorably, if we were to move at all, and Rosecrans certainly impressed
me that he favored an advance at an early day, though many of his generals
were against it until the operations on the Mississippi River should

culminate in something definite. There was much, fully apparent in the
circumstances about his headquarters, leading to the conviction that
Rosecrans originated the Tullahoma campaign, and the record of his prior
performances collaterally sustains the visible evidence then existing. In my
opinion, then, based on a clear recollection of various occurrences growing
out of our intimacy, he conceived the plan of the Tullahoma campaign and
the one succeeding it; and is therefore entitled to every credit that attended
their execution, no matter what may be claimed for others.
On the 23d of June Bragg was covering his position north of Duck River
with a front extending from McMinnville, where his cavalry rested, through
Wartrace and Shelbyville to Columbia, his depot being at Tullahoma.
Rosecrans, thinking that Bragg would offer strong resistance at Shelbyville
—which was somewhat protected by a spur of low mountains or hills,
offshoots of the Cumberland Mountains—decided to turn that place;
consequently, he directed the mass of the Union army on the enemy's right
flank, about Manchester.
On the 26th of June McCook's corps advanced toward Liberty Gap, my
divisions marching on the Shelbyville pike. I had proceeded but a few miles
when I encountered the enemy's pickets, who fell back to Christiana, about
nine miles from Murfreesboro'. Here I was assailed pretty wickedly by the
enemy's sharpshooters and a section of artillery, but as I was instructed to
do nothing more than cover the road from Eagleville, over which Brannan's
division was to approach Christiana, I made little reply to this severe
annoyance, wishing to conceal the strength of my force. As soon as the head
of Brannan's column arrived I marched across-country to the left, and
encamped that night at the little town of Millersburg, in the vicinity of
Liberty Gap. I was directed to move from Millersburg, on Hoover's Gap—a
pass in the range of hills already referred to, through which ran the turnpike
from Murfreesboro' to Manchester—but heavy rains had made the country
roads almost impassable, and the last of my division did not reach Hoover's
Gap till the morning of June 27, after its abandonment by the enemy.
Continuing on to Fairfield, the head of my column met, south of that place,
a small force of Confederate infantry and cavalry, which after a slight
skirmish Laiboldt's brigade drove back toward Wartrace. The next morning
I arrived at Manchester, where I remained quiet for the day. Early on the
29th I marched by the Lynchburg road for Tullahoma, where the enemy was

believed to be in force, and came into position about six miles from the
town.
By the 31st the whole army had been concentrated, in spite of many
difficulties, and though, on account of the heavy rains that had fallen almost
incessantly since we left Murfreesboro', its movements had been slow and
somewhat inaccurate, yet the precision with which it took up a line of battle
for an attack on Tullahoma showed that forethought and study had been
given to every detail. The enemy had determined to fall back from
Tullahoma at the beginning of the campaign, however, and as we advanced,
his evacuation had so far progressed that when, on July 1. We reached the
earthworks thrown. up early in the year for the defense of the place, he had
almost wholly disappeared, carrying off all his stores and munitions of war
except some little subsistence and eleven pieces of artillery. A strong
rearguard remained to cover the retreat, and on my front the usual
encounters between advancing and retreating forces took place. Just before
reaching the intrenchments on the Lynchburg road, I came upon an open
space that was covered by a network of fallen trees and underbrush, which
had been slashed all along in front of the enemy's earthworks. This made
our progress very difficult, but I shortly became satisfied that there were
only a few of the enemy within the works, so moving a battalion of cavalry
that had joined me the day before down the road as rapidly as the
obstructions would permit, the Confederate pickets quickly departed, and
we gained possession of the town. Three siege guns, four caissons, a few
stores, and a small number of prisoners fell into my hands.
That same evening orders were issued to the army to push on from
Tullahoma in pursuit, for, as it was thought that we might not be able to
cross Elk River on account of its swollen condition, we could do the enemy
some damage by keeping close as possible at his heels. I marched on the
Winchester road at 3 o'clock on the 2d of July and about 8 o'clock reached
Elk River ford. The stream was for the time truly an impassable torrent, and
all hope of crossing by the Winchester ford had to be abandoned. Deeming
that further effort should be made, however, under guidance of Card, I
turned the head of my column in the direction of Alisona, marching up the
river and nearly parallel with it till I came to Rock Creek. With a little delay
we got across Rock Creek, which was also much swollen, and finding a
short distance above its mouth a ford on Elk River that Card said was
practicable, I determined to attempt it: Some of the enemy's cavalry were

guarding this ford, but after a sharp little skirmish my battalion of cavalry
crossed and took up a strong position on the other bank. The stream was
very high and the current very swift, the water, tumbling along over its
rocky bed in an immense volume, but still it was fordable for infantry if
means could be devised by which the men could keep their feet. A cable
was stretched across just below the ford as a lifeline for the weaker ones,
and then the men of the entire division having secured their ammunition by
placing the cartridge-boxes on their shoulders, the column pushed
cheerfully into the rushing current. The men as they entered the water
joined each other in sets of four in a close embrace, which enabled them to
retain a foothold and successfully resist the force of the flood. When they
were across I turned the column down the left bank of Elk River, and
driving the enemy from some slight works near Estelle Springs, regained
the Winchester road.
By this time it was clear that Bragg intended to fall back behind the
Tennessee River, and our only chance of accomplishing anything of
importance was to smash up his rear-guard before it crossed the
Cumberland Mountains, and in pursuance of this idea I was directed to
attack such of his force as was holding on to Winchester. At 4 o'clock on the
morning of July 2 I moved on that town, and when we got close to it
directed my mounted troops to charge a small force of Confederate cavalry
that was picketing their front. The Confederates resisted but little, and our
men went with them in a disorderly chase through the village to Boiling
Fork, a small stream about half a mile beyond. Here the fleeing pickets,
rallying behind a stronger force, made a stand, and I was directed by
McCook to delay till I ascertained if Davis's division, which was to support
me, had made the crossing of Elk River, and until I could open up
communication with Brannan's division, which was to come in on my left at
Decherd. As soon as I learned that Davis was across I pushed on, but the
delay had permitted the enemy to pull his rear-guard up on the mountain,
and rendered nugatory all further efforts to hurt him materially, our only
returns consisting in forcing him to relinquish a small amount of
transportation and forage at the mouth of the pass just beyond Cowan, a
station on the line of the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad.
At Cowan, Colonel Watkins, of the Sixth Kentucky Cavalry, reported to
me with twelve hundred mounted men. Having heard during the night that
the enemy had halted on the mountain near the University—an educational

establishment on the summit—I directed Watkins to make a reconnoissance
and find out the value of the information. He learned that Wharton's brigade
of cavalry was halted at the University to cover a moderately large force of
the enemy's infantry which had not yet got down the mountain on the other
side, so I pushed Watkins out again on the 5th, supporting him by a brigade
of infantry, which I accompanied myself. We were too late, however, for
when we arrived at the top of the mountain Wharton had disappeared, and
though Watkins pursued to Bridgeport, he was able to do nothing more, and
on his return reported that the last of the enemy had crossed the Tennessee
River and burned the railroad bridge.
Nothing further could now be done, so I instructed Watkins to rejoin the
division at Cowan, and being greatly fatigued by the hard campaigning of
the previous ten days, I concluded to go back to my camp in a more
comfortable way than on the back of my tired horse. In his retreat the
enemy had not disturbed the railway track at all, and as we had captured a
hand-car at Cowan, I thought I would have it brought up to the station near
the University to carry me down the mountain to my camp, and, desiring
company, I persuasively invited Colonel Frank T. Sherman to ride with me.
I sent for the car by a courier, and for a long time patiently awaited its
arrival, in fact, until all the returning troops had passed us, but still it did not
come. Thinking it somewhat risky to remain at the station without
protection, Sherman and myself started our horses to Cowan by our
orderlies, and set out on foot to meet the car, trudging along down the track
in momentary expectation of falling in with our private conveyance. We had
not gone very far before night overtook us, and we then began to realize the
dangers surrounding us, for there we were alone and helpless, tramping on
in the darkness over an unknown railroad track in the enemy's country,
liable on the one hand to go tumbling through some bridge or trestle, and on
the other, to possible capture or death at the hands of the guerrillas then
infesting these mountains. Just after dark we came to a little cabin near the
track, where we made bold to ask for water, notwithstanding the fact that to
disclose ourselves to the inmates might lead to fatal consequences. The
water was kindly given, but the owner and his family were very much
exercised lest some misfortune might befall us near their house, and be
charged to them, so they encouraged us to move on with a frankness
inspired by fear of future trouble to themselves.

At every turn we eagerly hoped to meet the hand-car, but it never came,
and we jolted on from tie to tie for eleven weary miles, reaching Cowan
after midnight, exhausted and sore in every muscle from frequent falls on
the rough, unballasted road-bed. Inquiry. developed that the car had been
well manned, and started to us as ordered, and nobody could account for its
non-arrival. Further investigation next day showed, however, that when it
reached the foot of the mountain, where the railroad formed a junction, the
improvised crew, in the belief no doubt that the University was on the main
line instead of near the branch to Tracy City, followed the main stem until it
carried them clear across the range down the Crow Creek Valley, where the
party was captured.
I had reason to remember for many a day this foolish adventure, for my
sore bones and bruised muscles, caused me physical suffering until I left the
Army of the Cumberland the next spring; but I had still more reason to feel
for my captured men, and on this account I have never ceased to regret that
I so thoughtlessly undertook to rejoin my troops by rail, instead of sticking
to my faithful horse.

CHAPTER XV.

ORDERED TO OCCUPY BRIDGEPORT—A SPY—THE BATTLE OF
CHICKAMAUGA—GENERAL THOMAS—TREATED TO COFFEE—
RESULTS OF THE BATTLE.
The Tullahoma campaign was practically closed by the disappearance of
the enemy from the country north of the Tennessee River. Middle Tennessee
was once more in the possession of the National troops, and Rosecrans
though strongly urged from Washington to continue on, resisted the
pressure until he could repair the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad, which
was of vital importance in supplying his army from its secondary base at
Nashville. As he desired to hold this road to where it crossed the Tennessee,
it was necessary to push a force beyond the mountains, and after a few days
of rest at Cowan my division was ordered to take station at Stevenson,
Alabama, the junction of the Memphis and Charleston road with the
Nashville and Chattanooga, with instructions to occupy Bridgeport also.
The enemy had meanwhile concentrated most of his forces at
Chattanooga for the twofold purpose of holding this gateway of the
Cumberland Mountains, and to assume a defensive attitude which would
enable him to take advantage of such circumstances as might arise in the
development of the offensive campaign he knew we must make. The
peculiar topography of the country was much to his advantage, and while
we had a broad river and numerous spurs and ridges of the Cumberland
Mountains to cross at a long distance from our base, he was backed up on
his depots of supply, and connected by interior lines of railway with the
different armies of the Confederacy, so that he could be speedily reinforced.
Bridgeport was to be ultimately a sub-depot for storing subsistence
supplies, and one of the points at which our army would cross the
Tennessee, so I occupied it on July 29 with two brigades, retaining one at
Stevenson, however, to protect that railway junction from raids by way of
Caperton's ferry. By the 29th of August a considerable quantity of supplies
had been accumulated, and then began a general movement of our troops

for crossing the river. As there were not with the army enough pontoons to
complete the two bridges required, I was expected to build one of them of
trestles; and a battalion of the First Michigan Engineers under Colonel Innis
was sent me to help construct the bridge. Early on the 31st I sent into the
neighboring woods about fifteen hundred men with axes and teams, and by
nightfall they had delivered on the riverbank fifteen hundred logs suitable
for a trestle bridge. Flooring had been shipped to me in advance by rail, but
the quantity was insufficient, and the lack had to be supplied by utilizing
planking and weather-boarding taken from barns and houses in the
surrounding country. The next day Innis's engineers, with the assistance of
the detail that had felled the timber, cut and half-notched the logs, and put
the bridge across; spanning the main channel, which was swimming deep,
with four or five pontoons that had been sent me for this purpose. On the 2d
and 3d of September my division crossed on the bridge in safety, though we
were delayed somewhat because of its giving way once where the pontoons
joined the trestles. We were followed by a few detachments from other
commands, and by nearly all the transportation of McCook's corps.
After getting to the south side of the Tennessee River I was ordered to
Valley Head, where McCook's corps was to concentrate. On the 4th of
September I ascended Sand Mountain, but had got only half way across the
plateau, on top, when night came, the march having been a most toilsome
one. The next day we descended to the base, and encamped near Trenton.
On the 10th I arrived at Valley Head, and climbing Lookout Mountain,
encamped on the plateau at Indian Falls. The following day I went down
into Broomtown Valley to Alpine. The march of McCook's corps from
Valley Head to Alpine was in pursuance of orders directing it to advance on
Summerville, the possession of which place would further threaten the
enemy's communications, it being assumed that Bragg was in full retreat
south, as he had abandoned Chattanooga on the 8th. This assumption soon
proved erroneous, however, and as we, while in Broomtown Valley, could
not communicate directly with Thomas's corps, the scattered condition of
the army began to alarm us all, and McCook abandoned the advance to
Summerville, ordering back to the summit of Lookout Mountain such of the
corps trains as had got down into Broomtown Valley.
But before this I had grown uneasy in regard to the disjointed situation of
our army, and, to inform myself of what was going on, determined to send a
spy into the enemy's lines. In passing Valley Head on the 10th my scout

Card, who had been on the lookout for some one capable to undertake the
task, brought me a Union man with whom he was acquainted, who lived on
Sand Mountain, and had been much persecuted by guerrillas on account of
his loyal sentiments. He knew the country well, and as his loyalty was
vouched for I asked him to go into the enemy's camp, which I believed to
be near Lafayette, and, bring me such information as he could gather. He
said such a journey would be at the risk of his life, and that at best he could
not expect to remain in that section of country if he undertook it, but that he
would run all the chances if I would enable him to emigrate to the West at
the end c f the "job," which I could do by purchasing the small "bunch" of
stock he owned on the mountain. To this I readily assented, and he started
on the delicate undertaking. He penetrated the enemy's lines with little
difficulty, but while prosecuting his search for information was suspected,
and at once arrested and placed under guard. From this critical situation he
escaped; however, making his way through the enemy's picket-line in the
darkness by crawling on his belly and deceiving the sentinels by imitating
the grunts of the half-wild, sand-colored hogs with which the country
abounded. He succeeded in reaching Rosecrans's headquarters finally, and
there gave the definite information that Bragg intended to fight, and that he
expected to be reinforced by Longstreet.
By this time it was clear that Bragg had abandoned Chattanooga with the
sole design of striking us in detail as we followed in pursuit; and to prevent
his achieving this purpose orders came at 12 o'clock, midnight, for McCook
to draw in toward Chattanooga. This could be done only by recrossing
Lookout Mountain, the enemy's army at Lafayette now interposing between
us and Thomas's corps. The retrograde march began at once. I moved back
over the mountain on the 13th and 14th to Stevens's Mills, and on the 15th
and 16th recrossed through Stevens's Gap, in the Lookout range, and
encamped at its base in McLamore's cove. The march was made with all
possible celerity, for the situation was critical and demanded every exertion.
The ascent and descent of the mountains was extremely exhausting, the
steep grades often rendering it necessary to drag up and let down by hand
both the transportation and artillery. But at last we were in conjunction with
the main army, and my division breathed easier.
On the 17th I remained in line of battle all day and night in front of
McLamore's cove, the enemy making slight demonstrations against me
from the direction of Lafayette. The main body of the army having bodily

moved to the left meanwhile, I followed it on the 18th, encamping at Pond
Spring. On the 19th I resumed the march to the left and went into line of
battle at Crawfish Springs to cover our right and rear. Immediately after
forming this line, I again became isolated by the general movement to the
left, and in consequence was directed to advance and hold the ford of
Chickamauga Creek at Lee and Gordon's Mills, thus coming into close
communication with the balance of our forces. I moved into this position
rapidly, being compelled, though, first to drive back the enemy's cavalry
skirmishers, who, having crossed to the west side of the creek, annoyed the
right flank of my column a good deal while en route.
Upon arrival at Lee and Gordon's Mills I found the ford over
Chickamauga Creek temporarily uncovered, through the hurried movement
of Wood to the assistance of Davis's division. The enemy was already
present in small force, with the evident intention of taking permanent
possession, but my troops at once actively engaged him and recovered the
ford with some slight losses. Scarcely had this been done when I was
directed to assist Crittenden. Leaving Lytle's brigade at the ford, I
proceeded with Bradley's and Laiboldt's to help Crittenden, whose main
line was formed to the east of the Chattanooga and Lafayette road, its right
trending toward a point on Chickamauga Creek about a mile and a half
north of Lee and Gordon's Mills. By the time I had joined Crittenden with
my two brigades, Davis had been worsted in an attack Rosecrans had
ordered him to make on the left of that portion of the enemy's line which
was located along the west bank of the Chickamauga, the repulse being so
severe that one of Davis's batteries had to be abandoned. Bradley's brigade
arrived on the ground first and was hastily formed and thrown into the fight,
which up to this moment had been very doubtful, fortune inclining first to
one side, then to the other. Bradley's brigade went in with steadiness, and
charging across an open corn-field that lay in front of the Lafayette road,
recovered Davis's guns and forced the enemy to retire. Meanwhile
Laiboldt's brigade had come on the scene, and forming it on Bradley's right,
I found myself at the end of the contest holding the ground which was
Davis's original position. It was an ugly fight and my loss was heavy,
including Bradley wounded. The temporary success was cheering, and
when Lytle's brigade joined me a little later I suggested to Crittenden that
we attack, but investigation showed that his troops, having been engaged all
day, were not in condition, so the suggestion could not be carried out.

The events of the day had indicated that Bragg's main object was to turn
Rosecrans's left; it was therefore still deemed necessary that the army
should continue its flank movement to the left, so orders came to draw my
troops in toward the widow Glenn's house. By strengthening the skirmish
line and shifting my brigades in succession from right to left until the point
designated was reached, I was able to effect the withdrawal without much
difficulty, calling in my skirmish line after the main force had retired.
My command having settled down for the night in this new line I rode to
army headquarters, to learn if possible the expectations for the morrow and
hear the result of the battle in General Thomas's front. Nearly all the
superior officers of the army were at headquarters, and it struck me that
much depression prevailed, notwithstanding the fact that the enemy's
attempts during the day to turn our left flank and also envelop our right had
been unsuccessful. It was now positively known, through prisoners and
otherwise, that Bragg had been reinforced to such an extent as to make him
materially outnumber us, consequently there was much apprehension for
the future.
The necessity of protecting our left was most apparent, and the next day
the drifting in that direction was to be continued. This movement in the
presence of the enemy, who at all points was actively seeking an
opportunity to penetrate our line and interpose a column between its right
and left, was most dangerous. But the necessity for shifting the army to the
left was obvious, hence only the method by which it was undertaken is open
to question. The move was made by the flank in the face of an exultant foe
superior in numbers, and was a violation of a simple and fundamental
military principle. Under such circumstances columns naturally stretch out
into attenuated lines, organizations become separated, and intervals occur,
all of which we experienced; and had the orders for the movement been
construed properly I doubt if it could have been executed without serious
danger. Necessity knows no law, however, and when all the circumstances
of this battle are fully considered it is possible that justification may be
found for the manoeuvres by which the army was thus drifted to the left. We
were in a bad strait unquestionably, and under such conditions possibly the
exception had to be applied rather than the rule.
At daylight on the morning of the 20th a dense fog obscured everything;
consequently both armies were passive so far as fighting was concerned.

Rosecrans took advantage of the inaction to rearrange his right, and I was
pulled back closer to the widow Glenn's house to a strong position, where I
threw together some rails and logs as barricades, but I was disconnected
from the troops on my left by a considerable interval. Here I awaited the
approach of the enemy, but he did not disturb me, although about 9 o'clock
in the forenoon he had opened on our extreme left with musketry fire and a
heavy cannonade. Two hours later it was discovered by McCook that the
interval between the main army and me was widening, and he ordered me
to send Laiboldt's brigade to occupy a portion of the front that had been
covered by Negley's division. Before getting this brigade into place,
however, two small brigades of Davis's division occupied the ground, and I
directed Laiboldt to form in column of regiments on the crest of a low ridge
in rear of Carlin's brigade, so as to prevent Davis's right flank from being
turned. The enemy was now feeling Davis strongly, and I was about sending
for Lytle's and Bradley's brigades when I received an order to move these
rapidly to the extreme left of the army to the assistance of General Thomas.
I rode hastily back toward their position, but in the meanwhile, they had
been notified by direct orders from McCook, and were moving out at a
double-quick toward the Lafayette road. By this time the enemy had
assaulted Davis furiously in front and flank, and driven him from his line,
and as the confused mass came back, McCook ordered Laiboldt to charge
by deploying to the front. This he did through Davis's broken ranks, but
failed to check the enemy's heavy lines, and finally Laiboldt's brigade broke
also and fell to the rear. My remaining troops, headed by Lytle, were now
passing along the rear of the ground where this disaster took place—in
column on the road—en route to Thomas, and as the hundreds of fugitives
rushed back, McCook directed me to throw in Lytle's and Bradley's
brigades. This was hastily done, they being formed to the front under a
terrible fire. Scarcely were they aligned when the same horde of
Confederates that had overwhelmed Davis and Laiboldt poured in upon
them a deadly fire and shivered the two brigades to pieces. We succeeded in
rallying them, however, and by a counter attack regained the ridge that
Laiboldt had been driven from, where we captured the colors of the
Twenty-fourth Alabama. We could not hold the ridge, though, and my
troops were driven back with heavy loss, including General Lytle killed,
past the widow Glenn's house, and till I managed to establish them in line
of battle on a range of low hills behind the Dry Valley road.

During these occurrences General Rosecrans passed down the road
behind my line, and sent word that he wished to see me, but affairs were too
critical to admit of my going to him at once, and he rode on to Chattanooga.
It is to be regretted that he did not wait till I could join him, for the delay
would have permitted him to see that matters were not in quite such bad
shape as he supposed; still, there is no disguising the fact that at this
juncture his army was badly crippled.
Shortly after my division had rallied on the low hills already described, I
discovered that the enemy, instead of attacking me in front, was wedging in
between my division and the balance of the army; in short, endeavoring to
cut me off from Chattanooga. This necessitated another retrograde
movement, which brought me back to the southern face of Missionary
Ridge, where I was joined by Carlin's brigade of Davis's division. Still
thinking I could join General Thomas, I rode some distance to the left of my
line to look for a way out, but found that the enemy had intervened so far as
to isolate me effectually. I then determined to march directly to Rossville,
and from there effect a junction with Thomas by the Lafayette road. I
reached Rossville about o'clock in the afternoon, bringing with me eight
guns, forty-six caissons, and a long ammunition train, the latter having been
found in a state of confusion behind the widow Glenn's when I was being
driven back behind the Dry Valley road.
The head of my column passed through Rossville, appearing upon
Thomas's left about 6 o'clock in the evening, penetrated without any
opposition the right of the enemy's line, and captured several of his field-
hospitals. As soon as I got on the field I informed Thomas of the presence
of my command, and asked for orders. He replied that his lines were
disorganized, and that it would be futile to attack; that all I could do was to
hold on, and aid in covering his withdrawal to Rossville.

ENLARGE

I accompanied him back to Rossville, and when we reached the skirt of
the little hamlet General Thomas halted and we dismounted. Going into one
of the angles of a worm fence near by I took a rail from the top and put it
through the lower rails at a proper height from the ground to make a seat,
and General Thomas and I sat down while, my troops were moving by. The
General appeared very much exhausted, seemed to forget what he had
stopped for, and said little or nothing of the incidents of the day. This was
the second occasion on which I had met him in the midst of misfortune, for
during the fight in the cedars at Stone River, when our prospects were most
disheartening, we held a brief conversation respecting the line he was then
taking up for the purpose of helping me. At other times, in periods of
inactivity, I saw but little of him. He impressed me, now as he did in the
cedars, his quiet, unobtrusive: demeanor communicating a gloomy rather
than a hopeful view of the situation. This apparent depression was due no
doubt to the severe trial through which he had gone in the last forty-eight
hours, which, strain had exhausted him very much both physically and
mentally. His success in maintaining his ground was undoubtedly largely
influenced by the fact that two-thirds of the National forces had been sent to
his succor, but his firm purpose to save the army was the mainstay on which
all relied after Rosecrans left the field. As the command was getting pretty
well past, I rose to go in order to put my troops into camp. This aroused the
General, when, remarking that he had a little flask of brandy in his saddle-
holster, he added that he had just stopped for the purpose of offering me a
drink, as he knew I must be very tired. He requested one of his staff-officers

to get the flask, and after taking a sip himself, passed it to me. Refreshed by
the brandy, I mounted and rode off to supervise the encamping of my
division, by no means an easy task considering the darkness, and the
confusion that existed among the troops that had preceded us into Rossville.
This done, I lay down at the foot of a tree, with my saddle for a pillow,
and saddle-blanket for a cover. Some soldiers near me having built a fire,
were making coffee, and I guess I must have been looking on wistfully, for
in a little while they brought me a tin-cupful of the coffee and a small piece
of hard bread, which I relished keenly, it being the first food that had passed
my lips since the night before. I was very tired, very hungry, and much
discouraged by what had taken place since morning. I had been obliged to
fight my command under the most disadvantageous circumstances,
disconnected, without supports, without even opportunity to form in line of
battle, and at one time contending against four divisions of the enemy. In
this battle of Chickamauga, out of an effective strength Of 4,000 bayonets, I
had lost 1,517 officers and men, including two brigade commanders. This
was not satisfactory indeed, it was most depressing—and then there was
much confusion prevailing around Rossville; and, this condition of things
doubtless increasing my gloomy reflections, it did not seem to me that the
outlook for the next day was at all auspicious, unless the enemy was slow to
improve his present advantage. Exhaustion soon quieted all forebodings,
though, and I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was not aroused till
daylight.
On the morning of the 21st the enemy failed to advance, and his inaction
gave us the opportunity for getting the broken and disorganized army into
shape. It took a large part of the day to accomplish this, and the chances of
complete victory would have been greatly in Bragg's favor if he could have
attacked us vigorously at this time. But he had been badly hurt in the two
days' conflict, and his inactivity on the 21st showed that he too had to go
through the process of reorganization. Indeed, his crippled condition began
to show itself the preceding evening, and I have always thought that, had
General Thomas held on and attacked the Confederate right and rear from
where I made the junction with him on the Lafayette road, the field of
Chickamauga would have been relinquished to us; but it was fated to be
otherwise.

Rosecrans, McCook, and Crittenden passed out of the battle when they
went back to Chattanooga, and their absence was discouraging to all aware
of it. Doubtless this had much to do with Thomas's final withdrawal, thus
leaving the field to the enemy, though at an immense cost in killed and
wounded. The night of the 21st the army moved back from Rossville, and
my division, as the rearguard of the Twentieth Corps, got within our lines at
Chattanooga about 8 o'clock the morning of the 22d. Our unmolested
retirement from Rossville lent additional force to the belief that the enemy
had been badly injured, and further impressed me with the conviction that
we might have held on. Indeed, the battle of Chickamauga was somewhat
like that of Stone River, victory resting with the side that had the grit to
defer longest its relinquishment of the field.
The manoeuvres by which Rosecrans had carried his army over the
Cumberland Mountains, crossed the Tennessee River, and possessed
himself of Chattanooga, merit the highest commendation up to the
abandonment of this town by Bragg on the 8th of September; but I have
always fancied that that evacuation made Rosecrans over-confident, and led
him to think that he could force Bragg south as far as Rome. After the
Union army passed the river and Chattanooga fell into our hands; we still
kept pressing the enemy's communications, and the configuration of the
country necessitated more or less isolation of the different corps. McCook's
corps of three divisions had crossed two difficult ridges—Sand and Lookout
mountains—to Alpine in Broomtown Valley with intentions against
Summerville. Thomas's corps had marched by the way of Stevens's Gap
toward Lafayette, which he expected to occupy. Crittenden had passed
through Chattanooga, at first directing his march an Ringgold. Thus the
corps of the army were not in conjunction, and between McCook and
Thomas there intervened a positive and aggressive obstacle in the shape of
Bragg's army concentrating and awaiting reinforcement at Lafayette. Under
these circumstances Bragg could have taken the different corps in detail,
and it is strange that he did not, even before receiving his reinforcements,
turn on McCook in Broomtown Valley and destroy him.
Intelligence that Bragg would give battle began to come to us from
various sources as early as the 10th of September, and on the 11th McCook
found that he could not communicate with Thomas by the direct road
through Broomtown Valley; but we did not begin closing in toward
Chattanooga till the 13th, and even then the Twentieth Corps had before it

the certainty of many delays that must necessarily result from the circuitous
and difficult mountain roads which we would be obliged to follow. Had the
different corps, beginning with McCook's, been drawn in toward
Chattanooga between the 8th and 12th of September, the objective point of
the campaign would have remained in our hands without the battle of
Chickamauga, but, as has been seen, this was not done. McCook was
almost constantly on the march day and night between the 13th and the
19th, ascending and descending mountains, his men worried and wearied,
so that when they appeared on the battle-field, their fatigued condition
operated greatly against their efficiency. This delay in concentration was
also the original cause of the continuous shifting toward our left to the
support of Thomas, by which manoeuvre Rosecrans endeavored to protect
his communications with Chattanooga, and out of which grew the intervals
that offered such tempting opportunities to Bragg. In addition to all this,
much transpired on the field of battle tending to bring about disaster. There
did not seem to be any well-defined plan of action in the fighting; and this
led to much independence of judgment in construing orders among some of
the subordinate generals. It also gave rise to much license in issuing orders:
too many people were giving important directions, affecting the whole
army, without authority from its head. In view, therefore, of all the errors
that were committed from the time Chattanooga fell into our hands after our
first crossing the Tennessee, it was fortunate that the Union defeat was not
more complete, that it left in the enemy's possession not much more than
the barren results arising from the simple holding of the ground on which
the engagement was fought.

CHAPTER XVI.

AT CHATTANOOGA—THE ENEMY FORTIFIES LOOKOUT
MOUNTAIN AND MISSIONARY RIDGE—REORGANIZING THE
ARMY—REMOVAL OF GENERAL ROSECRANS—PUNISHMENT OF
DESERTERS—GRANT AT CHATTANOOGA—THE FIGHT ON
LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN—A BRAVE COLOR-BEARER—BATTLE OF
MISSIONARY RIDGE.
By 9 o'clock on the morning of September 22 my command took up a
position within the heavy line of intrenchments at Chattanooga, the greater
part of which defenses had been thrown up since the army commenced
arriving there the day before. The enemy, having now somewhat recovered
from the shock of the recent battle, followed carefully, and soon invested us
close into our lines with a parallel system of rifle-pits. He also began at
once to erect permanent lines of earthworks on Missionary Ridge and to
establish himself strongly on Lookout Mountain. He then sent Wheeler's
cavalry north of the Tennessee, and, aided greatly by the configuration of
the ground, held us in a state of partial siege, which serious rains might
convert into a complete investment. The occupation of Lookout Mountain
broke our direct communication with Bridgeport-our sub-depot—and
forced us to bring supplies by way of the Sequatchie Valley and Waldron's
Ridge of the Cumberland Mountains, over a road most difficult even in the
summer season, but now liable to be rendered impassable by autumn rains.
The distance to Bridgeport by this circuitous route was sixty miles, and the
numerous passes, coves, and small valleys through which the road ran
offered tempting opportunities, for the destruction of trains, and the enemy
was not slow to take advantage of them. Indeed, the situation was not
promising, and General Rosecrans himself, in communicating with the
President the day succeeding the battle of Chickamauga, expressed doubts
of his ability to hold the gateway of the Cumberland Mountains.
The position taken up by my troops inside the lines of Chattanooga was
near the old iron-works, under the shadow of Lookout Mountain. Here we
were exposed to a continual fire from the enemy's batteries for many days,

but as the men were well covered by secure though simple intrenchments,
but little damage was done. My own headquarters were established on the
grounds of Mr. William Crutchfield, a resident of the place, whose devotion
to the Union cause knew no bounds, and who rendered me—and, in fact, at
one time or another, nearly every general officer in the Army of the
Cumberland—invaluable service in the way of information about the
Confederate army. My headquarters camp frequently received shots from
the point of Lookout Mountain also, but fortunately no casualties resulted
from this plunging fire, though, I am free to confess, at first our nerves were
often upset by the whirring of twenty-pounder shells dropped
inconsiderately into our camp at untimely hours of the night.
In a few days rain began to fali, and the mountain roads by which our
supplies came were fast growing impracticable. Each succeeding train of
wagons took longer to make the trip from Bridgeport, and the draft mules
were dying by the hundreds. The artillery horses would soon go too, and
there was every prospect that later the troops would starve unless something
could be done. Luckily for my division, a company of the Second Kentucky
Cavalry had attached itself to my headquarters, and, though there without
authority, had been left undisturbed in view of a coming reorganization of
the army incidental to the removal of McCook and Crittenden from the
command of their respective corps, a measure that had been determined
upon immediately after the battle of Chickamauga. Desiring to remain with
me, Captain Lowell H. Thickstun, commanding this company, was ready
for any duty I might find, for him, so I ordered him into the Sequatchie
Valley for the purpose of collecting supplies for my troops, and sent my
scout, Card along to guide him to the best locations. The company hid itself
away in a deep cove in the upper end of the valley, and by keeping very
quiet and paying for everything it took from the people, in a few days was
enabled to send me large quantities of corn for my animals and food for the
officers and men, which greatly supplemented the scanty supplies we were
getting from the sub-depot at Bridgeport. In this way I carried men and
animals through our beleaguerment in pretty fair condition, and of the
turkeys, chickens, ducks, and eggs sent in for the messes of my officers we
often had enough to divide liberally among those at different headquarters.
Wheeler's cavalry never discovered my detached company, yet the chances
of its capture were not small, sometimes giving much uneasiness; still, I
concluded it was better to run all risks than to let the horses die of starvation

in Chattanooga. Later, after the battle of Missionary Ridge, when I started
to Knoxville, the company joined me in excellent shape, bringing with it an
abundance of food, including a small herd of beef cattle.
The whole time my line remained near the iron-mills the shelling from
Lookout was kept up, the screeching shots inquisitively asking in their well-
known way, "Where are you? Where are you?" but it is strange to see how
readily, soldiers can become accustomed to the sound of dangerous missiles
under circumstances of familiarity, and this case was no exception to the
rule. Few casualties occurred, and soon contempt took the place of
nervousness, and as we could not reply in kind on account of the elevation
required for our guns, the men responded by jeers and imprecations
whenever a shell fell into their camp.
Meantime, orders having been issued for the organization of the army,
additional troops were attached to my command, and it became the Second
Division of the Fourth Army Corps, to which Major-General Gordon
Granger was assigned as commander. This necessitated a change of position
of the division, and I moved to ground behind our works, with my right
resting on Fort Negley and my left extending well over toward Fort Wood,
my front being parallel to Missionary Ridge. My division was now
composed of twenty-five regiments, classified into brigades and demi-
brigades, the former commanded by Brigadier-General G. D. Wagner,
Colonel C. G. Harker, and Colonel F. T. Sherman; the latter, by Colonels
Laiboldt, Miller, Wood, Walworth, and Opdyke. The demi-brigade was an
awkward invention of Granger's; but at this time it was necessitated—
perhaps by the depleted condition of our regiments, which compelled the
massing of a great number of regimental organizations into a division to
give it weight and force.
On October 16, 1863, General Grant had been assigned to the command
of the "Military Division of the Mississippi," a geographical area which
embraced the Departments of the Ohio, the Cumberland, and the Tennessee,
thus effecting a consolidation of divided commands which might have been
introduced most profitably at an earlier date. The same order that assigned
General Grant relieved General Rosecrans, and placed General Thomas in
command of the Army of the Cumberland. At the time of the reception of
the order, Rosecrans was busy with preparations for a movement to open
the direct road to Bridgeport—having received in the interval, since we

came back to Chattanooga, considerable reinforcement by the arrival in his
department of the Eleventh and Twelfth corps, under General Hooker, from
the Army of the Potomac. With this force Rosecrans had already
strengthened certain important points on the railroad between Nashville and
Stevenson, and given orders to Hooker to concentrate at Bridgeport such
portions of his command as were available, and to hold them in readiness to
advance toward Chattanooga.
On the 19th of October, after turning the command over to Thomas,
General Rosecrans quietly slipped away from the army. He submitted
uncomplainingly to his removal, and modestly left us without fuss or
demonstration; ever maintaining, though, that the battle of Chickamauga
was in effect a victory, as it had ensured us, he said, the retention of
Chattanooga. When his departure became known deep and almost universal
regret was expressed, for he was enthusiastically esteemed and loved by the
Army of the Cumberland, from the day he assumed command of it until he
left it, notwithstanding the censure poured upon him after the battle of
Chickamauga.
The new position to which my division had been moved, in consequence
of the reorganization, required little additional labor to strengthen it, and the
routine of fatigue duty and drills was continued as before, its monotony
occasionally broken by the excitement of an expected attack, or by
amusements of various kinds that were calculated to keep the men in good
spirits. Toward this result much was contributed by Mr. James E. Murdock,
the actor, who came down from the North to recover the body of his son,
killed at Chickamauga, and was quartered with me for the greater part of
the time he was obliged to await the successful conclusion of his sad
mission. He spent days, and even weeks, going about through the division
giving recitations before the camp-fires, and in improvised chapels, which
the men had constructed from refuse lumber and canvas. Suiting his
selections to the occasion, he never failed to excite intense interest in the
breasts of all present, and when circumstances finally separated him from
us, all felt that a debt of gratitude was due him that could never be paid. The
pleasure he gave, and the confident feeling that was now arising from
expected reinforcements, was darkened, however, by one sad incident.
Three men of my division had deserted their colors at the beginning of the
siege and made their way north. They were soon arrested, and were brought
back to stand trial for the worst offense that can be committed by a soldier,

convicted of the crime, and ordered to be shot. To make the example
effective I paraded the whole division for the execution, and on the 13th of
November, in the presence of their former comrades, the culprits were sent,
in accordance with the terms of their sentence, to render their account to the
Almighty. It was the saddest spectacle I ever witnessed, but there could be
no evasion, no mitigation of the full letter of the law; its timely enforcement
was but justice to the brave spirits who had yet to fight the rebellion to the
end.
General Grant arrived at Chattanooga on October 23, and began at once
to carry out the plans that had been formed for opening the shorter or river
road to Bridgeport. This object was successfully accomplished by the
moving of Hooker's command to Rankin's and Brown's ferries in concert
with a force from the Army of the Cumberland which was directed on the
same points, so by the 27th of October direct communication with our
depots was established. The four weeks which followed this cheering result
were busy with the work of refitting and preparing for offensive operations
as soon as General Sherman should reach us with his troops from West
Tennessee. During this period of activity the enemy committed the serious
fault of detaching Longstreet's corps—sending it to aid in the siege of
Knoxville in East Tennessee—an error which has no justification whatever,
unless it be based on the presumption that it was absolutely necessary that
Longstreet should ultimately rejoin Lee's army in Virginia by way of
Knoxville and Lynchburg, with a chance of picking up Burnside en route.
Thus depleted, Bragg still held Missionary Ridge in strong force, but that
part of his line which extended across the intervening valley to the northerly
point of. Lookout Mountain was much attenuated.
By the 18th of November General Grant had issued instructions covering
his intended operations. They contemplated that Sherman's column, which
was arriving by the north bank of the Tennessee, should cross the river on a
pontoon bridge just below the mouth of Chickamauga Creek and carry the
northern extremity of Missionary Ridge as far as the railroad tunnel; that
the Army of the Cumberland—the centre—should co-operate with
Sherman; and that Hooker with a mixed command should continue to hold
Lookout Valley and operate on our extreme right as circumstances might
warrant. Sherman crossed on the 24th to perform his alloted part of the
programme, but in the meantime Grant becoming impressed with the idea
that Bragg was endeavoring to get away, ordered Thomas to make a strong

demonstration in his front, to determine the truth or falsity of the
information that had been received. This task fell to the Fourth Corps, and
at 12 o'clock on the 23d I was notified that Wood's division would make a
reconnoissance to an elevated point in its front called Orchard Knob, and
that I was to support it with my division and prevent Wood's right flank
from being turned by an advance of the enemy on Moore's road or from the
direction of Rossville. For this duty I marched my division out of the works
about 2 p.m., and took up a position on Bushy Knob. Shortly after we
reached this point Wood's division passed my left flank on its
reconnoissance, and my command, moving in support of it, drove in the
enemy's picket-line. Wood's took possession of Orchard Knob easily, and
mine was halted on a low ridge to the right of the Knob, where I was
directed by General Thomas to cover my front by a strong line of rifle-pits,
and to put in position two batteries of the Fourth regular artillery that had
joined me from the Eleventh Corps. After dark Wood began to feel uneasy
about his right flank, for a gap existed between it and my left, so I moved in
closer to him, taking up a line where I remained inactive till the 25th, but
suffering some inconvenience from the enemy's shells.
On the 24th General Sherman made an attack for the purpose of carrying
the north end of Missionary Ridge. His success was not complete, although
at the time it was reported throughout the army to be so. It had the effect of
disconcerting Bragg, however, and caused him to strengthen his right by
withdrawing troops from his left, which circumstance led Hooker to
advance on the northerly face of Lookout Mountain. At first, with good
glasses, we could plainly see Hooker's troops driving the Confederates up
the face of the mountain. All were soon lost to view in the dense timber, but
emerged again on the open ground, across which the Confederates retreated
at a lively pace, followed by the pursuing line, which was led by a color-
bearer, who, far in advance, was bravely waving on his comrades. The
gallantry of this man elicited much enthusiasm among us all, but as he was
a considerable distance ahead of his comrades I expected to see his rashness
punished at any moment by death or capture. He finally got quite near the
retreating Confederates, when suddenly they made a dash at him, but he
was fully alive to such a move, and ran back, apparently uninjured, to his
friends. About this time a small squad of men reached the top of Lookout
and planted the Stars and Stripes on its very crest. Just then a cloud settled
down on the mountain, and a heavy bank of fog obscured its whole face.

After the view was lost the sharp rattle of musketry continued some time,
but practically the fight had been already won by Hooker's men, the enemy
only holding on with a rear-guard to assure his retreat across Chattanooga
Valley to Missionary Ridge. Later we heard very heavy cannonading, and
fearing that Hooker was in trouble I sent a staff-officer to find out whether
he needed assistance, which I thought could be given by a demonstration
toward Rossville. The officer soon returned with the report that Hooker was
all right, that the cannonading was only a part of a little rear-guard fight,
two sections of artillery making all the noise, the reverberations from point
to point in the adjacent mountains echoing and reechoing till it seemed that
at least fifty guns were engaged.
On the morning of the 25th of November Bragg's entire army was
holding only the line of Missionary Ridge, and our troops, being now
practically connected from Sherman to Hooker, confronted it with the Army
of the Cumberland in the centre—bowed out along the front of Wood's
division and mine. Early in the day Sherman, with great determination and
persistence, made an attempt to carry the high ground near the tunnel, first
gaining and then losing advantage, but his attack was not crowned with the
success anticipated. Meanwhile Hooker and Palmer were swinging across
Chattanooga Valley, using me as a pivot for the purpose of crossing
Missionary Ridge in the neighborhood of Rossville. In the early part of the
day I had driven in the Confederate pickets in my front, so as to prolong my
line of battle on that of Wood, the necessity of continuing to refuse my right
having been obviated by the capture of Lookout Mountain and the advance
of Palmer.
About 2 o'clock orders came to carry the line at the foot of the ridge,
attacking at a signal of six guns. I had few changes or new dispositions to
make. Wagner's brigade, which was next to Wood's division, was formed in
double lines, and Harker's brigade took the same formation on Wagner's
right. Colonel F. T. Sherman's brigade came on Harker's right, formed in a
column of attack, with a front of three regiments, he having nine. My whole
front was covered with a heavy line of skirmishers. These dispositions
made, my right rested a little distance south of Moore's road, my left joined
Wood over toward Orchard Knob, while my centre was opposite Thurman's
house—the headquarters of General Bragg—on Missionary Ridge. A small
stream of water ran parallel to my front, as far as which the ground was
covered by a thin patch of timber, and beyond the edge of the timber was an

open plain to the foot of Missionary Ridge, varying in width from four to
nine hundred yards. At the foot of the ridge was the enemy's first line of
rifle-pits; at a point midway up its face, another line, incomplete; and on the
crest was a third line, in which Bragg had massed his artillery.
The enemy saw we were making dispositions for an attack, and in plain
view of my whole division he prepared himself for resistance, marching
regiments from his left flank with flying colors; and filling up the spaces
not already occupied in his intrenchments. Seeing the enemy thus
strengthening himself, it was plain that we would have to act quickly if we
expected to accomplish much, and I already began to doubt the feasibility
of our remaining in the first line of rifle-pits when we should have carried
them. I discussed the order with Wagner, Harker, and Sherman, and they
were similarly impressed, so while anxiously awaiting the signal I sent
Captain Ransom of my staff to Granger, who was at Fort Wood, to ascertain
if we were to carry the first line or the ridge beyond. Shortly after Ransom
started the signal guns were fired, and I told my brigade commanders to go
for the ridge.
Placing myself in front of Harker's brigade, between the line of battle and
the skirmishers, accompanied by only an orderly so as not to attract the
enemy's fire, we moved out. Under a terrible storm of shot and shell the line
pressed forward steadily through the timber, and as it emerged on the plain
took the double-quick and with fixed bayonets rushed at the enemy's first
line. Not a shot was fired from our line of battle, and as it gained on my
skirmishers they melted into and became one with it, and all three of my
brigades went over the rifle-pits simultaneously. They then lay down on the
face of the ridge, for a breathing-spell and for protection' from the terrible
fire, of canister and musketry pouring over us from the guns on the crest. At
the rifle-pits there had been little use for the bayonet, for most of the
Confederate troops, disconcerted by the sudden rush, lay close in the ditch
and surrendered, though some few fled up the slope to the next line. The
prisoners were directed to move out to our rear, and as their intrenchments
had now come under fire from the crest, they went with alacrity, and
without guard or escort, toward Chattanooga.
After a short pause to get breath the ascent of the ridge began, and I rode,
into the ditch of the intrenchments to drive out a few skulkers who were
hiding there. Just at this time I was joined by Captain Ransom, who, having

returned from Granger, told me that we were to carry only the line at the
base, and that in coming back, when he struck the left of the division,
knowing this interpretation of the order, he in his capacity as an aide-de-
camp had directed Wagner, who was up on the face of the ridge, to return,
and that in consequence Wagner was recalling his men to the base. I could
not bear to order the recall of troops now so gallantly climbing the hill step
by step, and believing we could take it, I immediately rode to Wagner's
brigade and directed it to resume the attack. In the meantime Harker's and F.
T. Sherman's troops were approaching the partial line of works midway of
the ridge, and as I returned to the centre of their rear, they were being led by
many stands of regimental colors. There seemed to be a rivalry as to which
color should be farthest to the front; first one would go forward a few feet,
then another would come up to it, the color-bearers vying with one another
as to who should be foremost, until finally every standard was planted on
the intermediate works. The enemy's fire from the crest during the ascent
was terrific in the noise made, but as it was plunging, it over-shot and had
little effect on those above the second line of pits, but was very
uncomfortable for those below, so I deemed it advisable to seek another
place, and Wagner's brigade having reassembled and again pressed up the
ridge, I rode up the face to join my troops.
As soon as the men saw me, they surged forward and went over the
works on the crest. The parapet of the intrenchment was too high for my
horse to jump, so, riding a short distance to the left, I entered through a low
place in the line. A few Confederates were found inside, but they turned the
butts of their muskets toward me in token of surrender, for our men were
now passing beyond them on both their flanks.
The right and right centre of my division gained the summit first, they
being partially sheltered by a depression in the face of the ridge, the
Confederates in their immediate front fleeing down the southern face. When
I crossed the rifle-pits on the top the Confederates were still holding fast at
Bragg's headquarters, and a battery located there opened fire along the
crest; making things most uncomfortably hot. Seeing the danger to which I
was exposed, for I was mounted, Colonel Joseph Conrad, of the Fifteenth
Missouri, ran up and begged me to dismount. I accepted his excellent
advice, and it probably saved my life; but poor Conrad was punished for his
solicitude by being seriously wounded in the thigh at the moment he was
thus contributing to my safety.

Wildly cheering, the men advanced along the ridge toward Bragg's
headquarters, and soon drove the Confederates from this last position,
capturing a number of prisoners, among them Breckenridge's and Bates's
adjutant-generals, and the battery that had made such stout resistance on the
crest-two guns which were named "Lady Breckenridge" and "Lady
Buckner" General Bragg himself having barely time to escape before his
headquarters were taken.
My whole division had now reached the summit, and Wagner and Harker
—the latter slightly wounded—joined me as I was standing in the battery
just secured. The enemy was rapidly retiring, and though many of his
troops, with disorganized wagon-trains and several pieces of artillery, could
be distinctly seen in much confusion about half a mile distant in the valley
below, yet he was covering them with a pretty well organized line that
continued to give us a desultory fire. Seeing this, I at once directed Wagner
and Harker to take up the pursuit along Moore's road, which led to
Chickamauga Station—Bragg's depot of supply—and as they progressed, I
pushed Sherman's brigade along the road behind them. Wagner and Harker
soon overtook the rearguard, and a slight skirmish caused it to break,
permitting nine guns and a large number of wagons which were
endeavoring to get away in the stampede to fall into our hands.
About a mile and a half beyond Missionary Ridge, Moore's road passed
over a second ridge or high range of hills, and here the enemy had
determined to make a stand for that purpose, posting eight pieces of artillery
with such supporting force as he could rally. He was immediately attacked
by Harker and Wagner, but the position was strong, the ridge being rugged
and difficult of ascent, and after the first onset our men recoiled. A staff-
officer from Colonel Wood's demi-brigade informing me at this juncture
that that command was too weak to carry the position in its front, I ordered
the Fifteenth Indiana and the Twenty-Sixth Ohio to advance to Wood's aid,
and then hastening to the front I found his men clinging to the face of the
ridge, contending stubbornly with the rear-guard of the enemy. Directing
Harker to put Opdyke's demi-brigade in on the right, I informed Wagner
that it was necessary to flank the enemy by carrying the high bluff on our
left where the ridge terminated, that I had designated the Twenty-Sixth Ohio
and Fifteenth Indiana for the work, and that I wished him to join them.

It was now dusk, but the two regiments engaged in the flanking
movement pushed on to gain the bluff. Just as they reached the crest of the
ridge the moon rose from behind, enlarged by the refraction of the
atmosphere, and as the attacking column passed along the summit it crossed
the moon's disk and disclosed to us below a most interesting panorama,
every figure nearly being thrown out in full relief. The enemy, now
outflanked on left and right, abandoned his ground, leaving us two pieces of
artillery and a number of wagons. After this ridge was captured I found that
no other troops than mine were pursuing the enemy, so I called a halt lest I
might become too much isolated. Having previously studied the topography
of the country thoroughly, I knew that if I pressed on my line of march
would carry me back to Chickamauga station, where we would be in rear of
the Confederates that had been fighting General Sherman, and that there
was a possibility of capturing them by such action; but I did not feel
warranted in marching there alone, so I rode back to Missionary Ridge to
ask for more troops, and upon arriving there I found Granger in command,
General Thomas having gone back to Chattanooga.
Granger was at Braggy's late headquarters in bed. I informed him of my
situation and implored him to follow me up with the Army of the
Cumberland, but he declined, saying that he thought we had done well
enough. I still insisting, he told me finally to push on to the crossing of
Chickamauga Creek, and if I, encountered the enemy he would order troops
to my support. I returned to my division about 12 o'clock at night, got it
under way, and reached the crossing, about half a mile from the station, at 2
o'clock on the morning of the 26th, and there found the bridge destroyed,
but that the creek was fordable. I did not encounter the enemy in any force,
but feared to go farther without assistance. This I thought I might bring up
by practicing a little deception, so I caused two regiments to simulate an
engagement by opening fire, hoping that this would alarm Granger and
oblige him to respond with troops, but my scheme failed. General Granger
afterward told me that he had heard the volleys, but suspected their purpose,
knowing that they were not occasioned by a fight, since they were too
regular in their delivery.

I was much disappointed that my pursuit had not been supported, for I
felt that great results were in store for us should the enemy be vigorously
followed. Had the troops under Granger's command been pushed out with
mine when Missionary Ridge was gained, we could have reached
Chickamauga Station by 12 o'clock the night of the 25th; or had they been
sent even later, when I called for them, we could have got there by daylight
and worked incalculable danger to the Confederates, for the force that had
confronted Sherman did not pass Chickamauga Station in their retreat till
after daylight on the morning of the 26th.

My course in following so close was dictated by a thorough knowledge
of the topography of the country and a familiarity with its roads, bypaths,
and farm-houses, gained with the assistance of Mr. Crutchfield; and sure my
column was heading in the right direction, though night had fallen I thought
that an active pursuit would almost certainly complete the destruction of
Bragg's army. When General Grant came by my bivouac at the crossing of
Chickamauga Creek on the 26th, he realized what might have been
accomplished had the successful assault on Missionary Ridge been
supplemented by vigorous efforts on the part of some high officers, who
were more interested in gleaning that portion of the battle-field over which
my command had passed than in destroying a panic-stricken enemy.
Although it cannot be said that the result of the two days' operations was
reached by the methods which General Grant had indicated in his
instructions preceding the battle, yet the general outcome was
unquestionably due to his genius, for the manoeuvring of Sherman's and
Hooker's commands created the opportunity for Thomas's corps of the
Army of the Cumberland to carry the ridge at the centre. In directing
Sherman to attack the north end of the ridge, Grant disconcerted Bragg—
who was thus made to fear the loss of his depot of supplies at Chickamauga
Station—and compelled him to resist stoutly; and stout resistance to
Sherman meant the withdrawal of the Confederates from Lookout
Mountain. While this attack was in process of execution advantage was
taken of it by Hooker in a well-planned and well-fought battle, but to my
mind an unnecessary one, for our possession of Lookout was the inevitable
result that must follow from Sherman's threatening attitude. The assault on
Missionary Ridge by Granger's and Palmer's corps was not premeditated by
Grant, he directing only the line at its base to be carried, but when this fell
into our hands the situation demanded our getting the one at the top also.
I took into the action an effective force of 6,000, and lost 123 officers and
1,181 men killed and wounded. These casualties speak louder than words of
the character of the fight, and plainly tell where the enemy struggled most
stubbornly for these figures comprise one-third the casualties of the entire
body of Union troops—Sherman's and all included. My division captured
1,762 prisoners and, in all, seventeen pieces of artillery. Six of these guns I
turned over with caissons complete; eleven were hauled off the field and
appropriated by an officer of high rank—General Hazen. I have no
disposition to renew the controversy which grew out of this matter. At the

time the occurrence took place I made the charge in a plain official report,
which was accepted as correct by the corps and army commanders, from
General Granger up to General Grant. General Hazen took no notice of this
report then, though well aware of its existence. Nearly a quarter of a century
later, however, he endeavored to justify his retention of the guns by trying
to show that his brigade was the first to reach the crest of Missionary Ridge,
and that he was therefore entitled to them. This claim of being the first to
mount the ridge is made by other brigades than Hazen's, with equal if not
greater force, so the absurdity of his deduction is apparent:
NOTE: In a book published by General Hazen in 1885, he endeavored to
show, by a number of letters from subordinate officers of his command,
written at his solicitation from fifteen to twenty years after the occurrence,
that his brigade was the first to mount Missionary Ridge, and that it was
entitled to possess these guns. The doubtful character of testimony dimmed
by the lapse of many years has long been conceded, and I am content to let
the controversy stand the test of history, based on the conclusions of
General Grant, as he drew them from official reports made when the
circumstances were fresh in the minds of all.
General Grant says: "To Sheridan's prompt movement, the Army of the
Cumberland and the nation are indebted for the bulk of the capture of
prisoners, artillery, and small-arms that day. Except for his prompt pursuit,
so much in this way would not have been accomplished."
General Thomas says: "We captured all their cannon and ammunition
before they could be removed or destroyed. After halting a few moments to
reorganize the troops, who had become somewhat scattered in the assault of
the hill, General Sheridan pushed forward in pursuit, and drove those in his
front who had escaped capture across Chickamauga Creek."
REPORT OF COLONEL FRANCIS T. SHERMAN, COMMANDING
FIRST BRIGADE: "When within ten yards of the crest, our men seemed to
be thrown forward as if by some powerful engine, and the old flag was
planted firmly and surely on the last line of works of the enemy, followed
by the men, taking one battery of artillery."
REPORT OF COLONEL MICHAEL GOODING, TWENTY-SECOND
INDIANA: ...."I pushed men up to the second line of works as fast as
possible; on and on, clear to the top, and over the ridge they went, to the
hollow beyond, killing and wounding numbers of the enemy as we

advanced, and leaving the rebel battery in our rear. We captured great
numbers of prisoners, and sent them to the rear without guards, as we
deemed the pursuit of the enemy of greater importance.... "I cannot give too
much praise to Captain Powers, Company "H," Lieutenant Smith, Company
"K," Lieutenant Gooding, Company "A," and Second Lieutenant Moser,
Company "G," for their assistance, and for the gallant manner in which they
encouraged their men up the side of the mountain, and charging the enemy's
works right up to the muzzles of their guns."
REPORT OF COLONEL JASON MARSH, SEVENTY-FOURTH
ILLINOIS: ...."The first on the enemy's works, and almost simultaneously,
were Lieutenant Clement, Company "A," Captain Stegner, Company "I,"
Captain Bacon, Company "G," and Captain Leffingwell, with some of their
men. The enemy was still in considerable force behind their works; but, for
some unaccountable reason, they either fled or surrendered instantly upon
the first few of our men reaching them—not even trying to defend their
battery, which was immediately captured by Captain Stegner."
REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL PORTER C. OLSON,
THIRTY-SIXTH ILLINOIS: ...."In connection with other regiments of this
brigade, we assisted in capturing several pieces of artillery, a number of
caissons, and a great quantity of small-arms."
REPORT OF COLONEL JOHN Q. LANE: ...."At the house known as
Bragg's headquarters, the enemy were driven from three guns, which fell
into our hands."
REPORT OF BRIGADIER-GENERAL G. D. WAGNER, SECOND
BRIGADE: ...."I ordered the command to storm the ridge, bringing up the
Fifteenth Indiana and Ninety-seventh Ohio, which had not yet been
engaged, although suffering from the enemy's artillery. The result is a
matter of history, as we gained the ridge, capturing artillery, prisoners, and
small-arms; to what amount, however, I do not know, as we pushed on after
the enemy as soon as I had re-formed the command. ....Captain Tinney, with
his usual gallantry, dashed up the line with the first troops, and with the aid
of an orderly (George Dusenbury, Fifteenth Indiana), turned the loaded gun
of the enemy on his retreating ranks."
REPORT OF CAPTAIN BENJAMIN F. HEGLER, FIFTEENTH
INDIANA: ...."Our captures amounted to prisoners not counted,

representing many different regiments; several pieces of artillery, and some
wagons."
REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELIAS NEFF, FORTIETH
INDIANA: ...."As the regiment reached the top of the ridge and swept for.
ward, the right passed through, without stopping to take possession, the
battery at General Bragg's headquarters that had fired so venomously during
the whole contest."
REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL J. MOORE, FIFTY-EIGHTH
INDIANA: ...."In passing to the front from Missionary Ridge, we saw
several pieces of artillery which had been abandoned by the enemy, though
I did not leave any one in charge of them."
REPORT OF MAJOR C, M. HAMMOND, ONE HUNDREDTH
ILLINOIS: ...."I immediately organized my regiment, and while so doing
discovered a number of pieces of artillery in a ravine on my left. I sent
Lieutenant Stewart, of Company A, to see if these guns which the enemy
had abandoned could not be turned upon them. He returned and reported
them to be four ten-pound Parrotts and two brass Napoleons; also that it
would require a number of men to place them in position. I ordered him to
report the same to General Wagner, and ask permission, but before
receiving a reply was ordered by you to move forward my regiment on the
left of the Fifty-Eighth Indiana Volunteers."
REPORT OF COLONEL CHARLES G. HARKER, THIRD BRIGADE:
...."My right and Colonel Sherman's left interlocked, so to speak, as we
approached the summit, and it was near this point that I saw the first part of
my line gain the crest. This was done by a few brave men of my own and
Colonel Sherman's command driving the enemy from his intrenchments.
The gap thus opened, our men rushed rapidly in, and the enemy, loth to give
up their position, still remained, firing at my command toward the left, and
the battery in front of the house known as General Bragg's headquarters was
still firing at the troops, and was captured by our men while the gunners
were still at their posts.... ...."We captured and sent to division and corps
headquarters 503 prisoners and a large number of small-arms. In regard to
the number of pieces of artillery, it will probably be difficult to reconcile the
reports of my regimental commanders with the reports of other regiments
and brigades who fought so nobly with my own command, and who alike
are entitled to share the honors and glories of the day. More anxious to

follow the enemy than to appropriate trophies already secured, we pushed
to the front, while the place we occupied on ascending the hill was soon
occupied by other troops, who, I have learned, claim the artillery as having
fallen into their own hands. It must therefore remain with the division and
corps commanders, who knew the relative position of each brigade and
division, to accord to each the trophies to which they are due. ...."From my
personal observation I can claim a battery of six guns captured by a portion
of my brigade."
REPORT OF COLONEL EMERSON OPDYKE, FIRST DEMI-
BRIGADE: ...."My command captured Bragg's headquarters, house, and the
six guns which were near there; one of these I ordered turned upon the
enemy, which was done with effect."
REPORT OF COLONEL H. C. DUNLAP, THIRD KENTUCKY: ...."The
point at which the centre of my regiment reached the crest was at the stable
to the left of the house said to be Bragg's headquarters, and immediately in
front of the road which leads down the southern slope of the ridge. One
piece of the abandoned battery, was to the left of this point, the remainder to
the right, near by."
REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL W. A. BULLITT, SIXTY-
FIFTH OHIO: ...."The position in which my regiment found itself was
immediately in front of a battery, which belched forth a stream of canister
upon us with terrible rapidity. In addition to this, the enemy, whenever
driven from other points, rallied around this battery, and defended it with
desperation. It cost a struggle to take it; but we finally succeeded, and the
colors of the Sixty-fifth Ohio were the first planted upon the yet smoking
guns. Captain Smith, of my regiment, was placed in charge of the captured
battery, which consisted of 5 guns, 3 caissons, and 17 horses."
REPORT OF CAPTAIN E. P. BATES, ONE HUNDRED AND
TWENTY-FIFTH OHIO: ...."Perceiving that the ridge across which my
regiment extended was commanded to the very crest by a battery in front,
also by those to right and left, I directed the men to pass up the gorges on
either side. About forty men, with Captain Parks and Lieutenant Stinger,
passed to the left, the balance to the right, and boldly charged on, till,
foremost with those of other regiments, they stood on the strongest point of
the enemy's works, masters alike of his guns and position.... Captain Parks

reports his skirmish-line to have charged upon and captured one gun, that
otherwise would have been hauled off."
REPORT OF COLONEL ALLEN BUCKNER, SEVENTY-NINTH
ILLINOIS: ...."The right of the regiment rested on the left of the road,
where it crossed the rebel fortification, leading up the hill toward Bragg's
headquarters. We took a right oblique direction through a peach orchard
until arriving at the woods and logs on the side of the ridge, when I ordered
the men to commence firing, which they did with good effect, and
continued it all the way up until the heights were gained. At this point the
left of the regiment was near the right of the house, and I claim that my
officers and men captured two large brass pieces, literally punching the
cannoniers from their guns. Privates John Fregan and Jasper Patterson, from
Company "A," rushed down the hill, captured one caisson, with a cannonier
and six horses, and brought them back."
REPORT OF COLONEL J. R. MILES, TWENTY-SEVENTH
ILLINOIS: ...."The regiment, without faltering, finally, at about 4.30 P.M.,
gained the enemy's works in conjunction with a party of the Thirty-sixth
Illinois, who were immediately on our right. The regiment, or a portion of
it, proceeded to the left, down the ridge, for nearly or quite a quarter of a
mile capturing three or four pieces of cannon, driving the gunners from
them."

CHAPTER XVII.

ORDERED TO RETURN TO CHATTANOOGA—MARCH TO
KNOXVILLE—COLLECTING SUBSISTENCE STORES—A CLEVER
STRATAGEM—A BRIDGE OF WAGONS—LOOKING OUT FOR THE
PERSONAL COMFORT OF THE SOLDIERS-A LEAVE OF ABSENCE
—ORDERED TO WASHINGTON—PARTING WITH SHERIDAN'S
DIVISION.
The day after the battle of Missionary Ridge I was ordered in the evening
to return to Chattanooga, and from the limited supply of stores to be had
there outfit my command to march to the relief of Knoxville, where General
Burnside was still holding out against the besieging forces of General
Longstreet. When we left Murfreesboro' in the preceding June, the men's
knapsacks and extra clothing, as well as all our camp equipage, had been
left behind, and these articles had not yet reached us, so we were poorly
prepared for a winter campaign in the mountains of East Tennessee. There
was but little clothing to be obtained in Chattanooga, and my command
received only a few overcoats and a small supply of India-rubber ponchos.
We could get no shoes, although we stood in great need of them, for the
extra pair with which each man had started out from Murfreesboro' was
now much the worse for wear. The necessity for succoring Knoxville was
urgent, however, so we speedily refitted as thoroughly as was possible with
the limited means at hand. My division teams were in very fair condition in
consequence of the forage we had procured in the Sequatchie Valley, so I
left the train behind to bring up clothing when any should arrive in
Chattanooga.
Under these circumstances, on the 29th of November the Fourth Corps
(Granger's) took up the line of march for Knoxville, my men carrying in
their haversacks four days' rations, depending for a further supply of food
on a small steamboat loaded with subsistence stores, which was to proceed
up the Tennessee River and keep abreast of the column.

Not far from Philadelphia, Tennessee, the columns of General Sherman's
army, which had kept a greater distance from the river than Granger's corps,
so as to be able to subsist on the country, came in toward our right and the
whole relieving force was directed on Marysville, about fifteen miles
southwest of Knoxville. We got to Marysville December 5, and learned the
same day that Longstreet had shortly before attempted to take Knoxville by
a desperate assault, but signally failing, had raised the siege and retired
toward Bean's Station on the Rutledge, Rogersville, and Bristol road,
leading to Virginia. From Marysville General Sherman's troops returned to
Chattanooga, while Granger's corps continued on toward Knoxville, to take
part in the pursuit of Longstreet.
Burnside's army was deficient in subsistence, though not to the extent
that we had supposed before leaving Chattanooga. It had eaten out the
country in the immediate vicinity of Knoxville, however; therefore my
division did not cross the Holstein River, but was required, in order to
maintain itself, to proceed to the region of the French Broad River. To this
end I moved to Sevierville, and making this village my headquarters, the
division was spread out over the French Broad country, between Big Pigeon
and Little Pigeon rivers, where we soon had all the mills in operation,
grinding out plenty of flour and meal. The whole region was rich in
provender of all kinds, and as the people with rare exceptions were
enthusiastically loyal, we in a little while got more than enough food for
ourselves, and by means of flatboats began sending the surplus down the
river to the troops at Knoxville.
The intense loyalty of this part of Tennessee exceeded that of any other
section I was in during the war. The people could not do too much to aid the
Union cause, and brought us an abundance of everything needful. The
women were especially loyal, and as many of their sons and husbands, who
had been compelled to "refugee" on account of their loyal sentiments,
returned with us, numbers of the women went into ecstasies of joy when
this part of the Union army appeared among them. So long as we remained
in the French Broad region, we lived on the fat of the land, but unluckily
our stay was to be of short duration, for Longstreet's activity kept the
department commander in a state of constant alarm.
Soon after getting the mills well running, and when the shipment of their
surplus product down the river by flatboats had begun, I was ordered to

move to Knoxville, on account of demonstrations by Longstreet from the
direction of Blain's crossroads. On arriving at Knoxville, an inspection of
my command, showed that the shoes of many of the men were entirely
worn out, the poor fellows having been obliged to protect their feet with a
sort of moccasin, made from their blankets or from such other material as
they could procure. About six hundred of the command were in this
condition, plainly not suitably shod to withstand the frequent storms of sleet
and snow. These men I left in Knoxville to await the arrival of my train,
which I now learned was en route from Chattanooga with shoes, overcoats,
and other clothing, and with the rest of the division proceeded to Strawberry
Plains, which we reached the latter part of December.
Mid-winter was now upon us, and the weather in this mountain region of
East Tennessee was very cold, snow often falling to the depth of several
inches. The thin and scanty clothing of the men afforded little protection,
and while in bivouac their only shelter was the ponchos with which they
had been provided before leaving Chattanooga; there was not a tent in the
command. Hence great suffering resulted, which I anxiously hoped would
be relieved shortly by the arrival of my train with supplies. In the course of
time the wagons reached Knoxville, but my troops derived little comfort
from this fact, for the train was stopped by General Foster, who had
succeeded Burnside in command of the department, its contents distributed
pro rata to the different organizations of the entire army, and I received but
a small share. This was very disappointing, not to say exasperating, but I
could not complain of unfairness, for every command in the army was
suffering to the same extent as mine, and yet it did seem that a little
forethought and exertion on the part of some of the other superior officers,
whose transportation was in tolerable condition, might have ameliorated the
situation considerably. I sent the train back at once for more clothing, and
on its return, just before reaching Knoxville, the quartermaster in charge,
Captain Philip Smith, filled the open spaces in the wagons between the
bows and load with fodder and hay, and by this clever stratagem passed it
through the town safe and undisturbed as a forage train. On Smith's arrival
we lost no time in issuing the clothing, and when it had passed into the
hands of the individual soldiers the danger of its appropriation for general
distribution, like the preceding invoice, was very remote.
General Foster had decided by this time to move his troops to Dandridge
for the twofold purpose of threatening the enemy's left and of getting into a

locality where we could again gather subsistence from the French Broad
region. Accordingly we began an advance on the 15th of January, the
cavalry having preceded us some time before. The Twenty-third Corps and
Wood's division of the Fourth Corps crossed the Holstein River by a bridge
that had been constructed at Strawberry Plains. My division being higher up
the stream, forded it, the water very deep and bitter cold, being filled with
slushy ice. Marching by way of New Market, I reached Dandridge on the
17th, and here on my arrival met General Sturgis, then commanding our
cavalry. He was on the eve of setting out to, "whip the enemy's cavalry," as
he said, and wanted me to go along and see him do it. I declined, however,
for being now the senior officer present, Foster, Parke, and Granger having
remained at Knoxville and Strawberry Plains, their absence left me in
command, and it was necessary that I should make disposition of the
infantry when it arrived. As there were indications of a considerable force
of the enemy on the Russellville road I decided to place the troops in line of
battle, so as to be prepared for any emergency that might arise in the
absence of the senior officers, and I deemed it prudent to supervise
personally the encamping of the men. This disposition necessarily required
that some of the organizations should occupy very disagreeable ground, but
I soon got all satisfactorily posted with the exception of General Willich,
who expressed some discontent at being placed beyond the shelter of the
timber, but accepted the situation cheerfully when its obvious necessity was
pointed out to him.
Feeling that all was secure, I returned to my headquarters in the village
with the idea that we were safely established in ease of attack, and that the
men would now have a good rest if left undisturbed; and plenty to eat, but
hardly had I reached my own camp when a staff-officer came post-haste
from Sturgis with the information that he was being driven back to my
lines, despite the confident invitation to me (in the morning) to go out and
witness the whipping which was to be given to the enemy's cavalry. Riding
to the front, I readily perceived that the information was correct, and I had
to send a brigade of infantry out to help Sturgis, thus relieving him from a
rather serious predicament. Indeed, the enemy was present in pretty strong
force, both cavalry and infantry, and from his vicious attack on Sturgis it
looked very much as though he intended to bring on a general engagement.
Under such circumstances I deemed it advisable that the responsible
commanders of the army should be present, and so informed them. My

communication brought Parke and Granger to the front without delay, but
Foster could not come, since the hardships of the winter had reopened an
old wound received during the Mexican War, and brought on much
suffering. By the time Parke and Granger arrived, however, the enemy, who
it turned out was only making a strong demonstration to learn the object of
our movement on Dandridge, seemed satisfied with the results of his
reconnoissance, and began falling back toward Bull's Gap. Meanwhile
Parke and Granger concluded that Dandridge was an untenable point, and
hence decided to withdraw a part of the army to Strawberry Plains; and the
question of supplies again coming up, it was determined to send the Fourth
Corps to the south side of the French Broad to obtain subsistence, provided
we could bridge the river so that men could get across the deep and icy
stream without suffering.
I agreed to undertake the construction of a bridge on condition that each
division should send to the ford twenty-five wagons with which to make it.
This being acceded to, Harker's brigade began the work next morning at a
favorable point a few miles down the river. As my quota of wagons arrived,
they were drawn into the stream one after another by the wheel team, six
men in each wagon, and as they successively reached the other side of the
channel the mules were unhitched, the pole of each wagon run under thre
hind axle of the one just in front, and the tailboards used so as to span the
slight space between them. The plan worked well as long as the material
lasted, but no other wagons than my twenty-five coming on the ground, the
work stopped when the bridge was only half constructed. Informed of the
delay and its cause, in sheer desperation I finished the bridge by taking
from my own division all the wagons needed to make up the deficiency.
It was late in the afternoon when the work was finished, and I began
putting over one of my brigades; but in the midst of its crossing word came
that Longstreet's army was moving to attack us, which caused an
abandonment of the foraging project, and orders quickly followed to retire
to Strawberry Plains, the retrograde movement to begin forthwith. I sent to
headquarters information of the plight I was in—baggage and supplies on
the bank and wagons in the stream—begged to know what was to become
of them if we were to hurry off at a moment's notice, and suggested that the
movement be delayed until I could recover my transportation. Receiving in
reply no assurances that I should be relieved from my dilemma—and, in
fact, nothing satisfactory—I determined to take upon myself the

responsibility of remaining on the ground long enough to get my wagons
out of the river; so I sent out a heavy force to watch for the enemy, and with
the remainder of the command went to work to break up the bridge. Before
daylight next morning I had recovered everything without interference by
Longstreet, who, it was afterward ascertained, was preparing to move east
toward Lynchburg instead of marching to attack us; the small demonstration
against Dandridge, being made simply to deceive us as to his ultimate
object. I marched to Strawberry Plains unmolested, and by taking the route
over Bay's Mountain, a shorter one than that followed by the main body of
our troops, reached the point of rendezvous as soon as the most of the army,
for the road it followed was not only longer, but badly cut up by trains that
had recently passed over it.
Shortly after getting into camp, the beef contractor came in and reported
that a detachment of the enemy's cavalry had captured my herd of beef
cattle. This caused me much chagrin at first, but the commissary of my
division soon put in an appearance, and assured me that the loss would not
be very disastrous to us nor of much benefit to the enemy, since the cattle
were so poor and weak that they could not be driven off. A reconnoissance
in force verified the Commissary's statement. From its inability to travel,
the herd, after all efforts to carry it off had proved ineffectual, had been
abandoned by its captors.
After the troops from Chattanooga arrived in the vicinity of Knoxville
and General Sherman had returned to Chattanooga, the operations in East
Tennessee constituted a series of blunders, lasting through the entire winter;
a state of affairs doubtless due, in the main, to the fact that the command of
the troops was so frequently changed. Constant shifting of responsibility
from one to another ensued from the date that General Sherman, after
assuring himself that Knoxville was safe, devolved the command on
Burnside. It had already been intimated to Burnside that he was to be
relieved, and in consequence he was inactive and apathetic, confining his
operations to an aimless expedition whose advance extended only as far as
Blain's crossroads, whence it was soon withdrawn. Meanwhile General
Foster had superseded Burnside, but physical disabilities rendered him
incapable of remaining in the field, and then the chief authority devolved on
Parke. By this time the transmission of power seemed almost a disease; at
any rate it was catching, so, while we were en route to Dandridge, Parke
transferred the command to Granger. The latter next unloaded it on me, and

there is no telling what the final outcome would have been had I not entered
a protest against a further continuance of the practice, which remonstrance
brought Granger to the front at Dandridge.
While the events just narrated were taking place, General Grant had
made a visit to Knoxville—about the last of December—and arranged to
open the railroad between there and Chattanooga, with a view to supplying
the troops in East Tennessee by rail in the future, instead of through
Cumberland Gap by a tedious line of wagon-trains. In pursuance of his plan
the railroad had already been opened to Loudon, but here much delay
occurred on account of the long time it took to rebuild the bridge over the
Tennessee. Therefore supplies were still very scarce, and as our animals
were now dying in numbers from starvation, and the men were still on short
allowance, it became necessary that some of the troops east of Knoxville
should get nearer to their depot, and also be in a position to take part in the
coming Georgia campaign, or render assistance to General Thomas, should
General Johnston (who had succeeded in command of the Confederate
army) make any demonstration against Chattanooga. Hence my division
was ordered to take station at Loudon, Tennessee, and I must confess that
we took the road for that point with few regrets, for a general disgust
prevailed regarding our useless marches during the winter.
At this time my faithful scout Card and his younger brother left me, with
the determination, as I have heretofore related, to avenge their brother's
death. No persuasion could induce Card to remain longer, for knowing that
my division's next operation would be toward Atlanta, and being ignorant of
the country below Dalton, he recognized and insisted that his services
would then become practically valueless.
At Loudon, where we arrived January 27, supplies were more plentiful,
and as our tents and extra clothing reached us there in a few days, every one
grew contented and happy. Here a number of my regiments, whose terms of
service were about to expire, went through the process of "veteranizing,"
and, notwithstanding the trials and hardships of the preceding nine months,
they re-enlisted almost to a man.
When everything was set in motion toward recuperating and refitting my
troops, I availed myself of the opportunity during a lull that then existed to
take a short leave of absence—a privilege I had not indulged in since
entering the service in 1853. This leave I spent in the North with much

benefit to my physical condition, for I was much run down by fatiguing
service, and not a little troubled by intense pain which I at times still
suffered from my experience in the unfortunate hand-car incident on the
Cumberland Mountains the previous July. I returned from leave the latter
part of March, rejoining my division with the expectation that the campaign
in that section would begin as early as April.
On the 12th of March, 1864, General Grant was assigned to the
command of the armies of the United States, as general-in-chief. He was
already in Washington, whither he had gone to receive his commission as
lieutenant-general. Shortly after his arrival there, he commenced to
rearrange the different commands in the army to suit the plans which he
intended to enter upon in the spring, and out of this grew a change in my
career. Many jealousies and much ill-feeling, the outgrowth of former
campaigns, existed among officers of high grade in the Army of the
Potomac in the winter of 1864, and several general officers were to be sent
elsewhere in consequence. Among these, General Alfred Pleasonton was to
be relieved from the command of the cavalry, General Grant having
expressed to the President dissatisfaction that so little had hitherto been
accomplished by that arm of the service, and I was selected as chief of the
cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, receiving on the night of the 23d
of March from General Thomas at Chattanooga the following telegram:

"MARCH 23, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS, Chattanooga

"Lieutenant-General Grant directs that Major-General
Sheridan immediately repair to Washington and report to the
Adjutant-General of the Army.

"H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

I was not informed of the purpose for which I was to proceed to
Washington, but I conjectured that it meant a severing of my relations with
the Second Division, Fourth Army Corps. I at once set about obeying the

order, and as but little preparation was necessary, I started for Chattanooga
the next day, without taking any formal leave of the troops I had so long
commanded. I could not do it; the bond existing between them and me had
grown to such depth of attachment that I feared to trust my emotions in any
formal parting from a body of soldiers who, from our mutual devotion, had
long before lost their official designation, and by general consent within and
without the command were called "Sheridan's Division." When I took the
train at the station the whole command was collected on the hill-sides
around to see me off. They had assembled spontaneously, officers and men,
and as the cars moved out for Chattanooga they waved me farewell with
demonstrations of affection.
A parting from such friends was indeed to be regretted. They had never
given me any trouble, nor done anything that could bring aught but honor to
themselves. I had confidence in them, and I believe they had in me. They
were ever steady, whether in victory or in misfortune, and as I tried always
to be with them, to put them into the hottest fire if good could be gained, or
save them from unnecessary loss, as occasion required, they amply repaid
all my care and anxiety, courageously and readily meeting all demands in
every emergency that arose.
In Kentucky, nearly two years before, my lot had been cast with about
half of the twenty-five regiments of infantry that I was just leaving, the rest
joining me after Chickamauga. It was practically a new arm of the service
to me, for although I was an infantry officer, yet the only large command
which up to that time I had controlled was composed of cavalry, and most
of my experience had been gained in this arm of the service. I had to study
hard to be able to master all the needs of such a force, to feed and clothe it
and guard all its interests. When undertaking these responsibilities I felt that
if I met them faithfully, recompense would surely come through the hearty
response that soldiers always make to conscientious exertion on the part of
their superiors, and not only that more could be gained in that way than
from the use of any species of influence, but that the reward would be
quicker. Therefore I always tried to look after their comfort personally;
selected their camps, and provided abundantly for their subsistence, and the
road they opened for me shows that my work was not in vain. I regretted
deeply to have to leave such soldiers, and felt that they were sorry I was
going, and even now I could not, if I would, retain other than the warmest

sentiments of esteem and the tenderest affection for the officers and men of
"Sheridan's Division," Army of the Cumberland.
On reaching Chattanooga I learned from General Thomas the purpose for
which I had been ordered to Washington. I was to be assigned to the
command of the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. The
information staggered me at first, for I knew well the great responsibilities
of such a position; moreover, I was but slightly acquainted with military
operations in Virginia, and then, too, the higher officers of the Army of the
Potomac were little known to me, so at the moment I felt loth to undergo
the trials of the new position. Indeed, I knew not a soul in Washington
except General Grant and General Halleck, and them but slightly, and no
one in General Meade's army, from the commanding general down, except a
few officers in the lower grades, hardly any of whom I had seen since
graduating at the Military Academy.
Thus it is not much to be wondered at that General Thomas's
communication momentarily upset me. But there was no help for it, so after
reflecting on the matter a little I concluded to make the best of the situation.
As in Virginia I should be operating in a field with which I was wholly
unfamiliar, and among so many who were strangers, it seemed to me that it
would be advisable to have, as a chief staff-officer, one who had had service
in the East, if an available man could be found. In weighing all these
considerations in my mind, I fixed upon Captain James W. Forsyth, of the
Eighteenth Infantry, then in the regular brigade at Chattanooga—a dear
friend of mine, who had served in the Army of the Potomac, in the
Peninsula and Antietam campaigns. He at once expressed a desire to accept
a position on my staff, and having obtained by the next day the necessary
authority, he and I started for Washington, accompanied by Lieutenant T. W.
C. Moore, one of my aides, leaving behind Lieutenant M. V. Sheridan, my
other aide, to forward our horses as soon as they should be sent down to
Chattanooga from Loudon, after which he was to join me.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AT WASHINGTON—MEETING SECRETARY STANTON—
INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN—MADE COMMANDER
OF THE CAVALRY CORPS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC—ITS
OFFICERS—GENERAL MEADE's METHOD OF USING CAVALRY—
OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN—SPOTTSYLVANIA C. H.—A
DIFFERENCE WITH GENERAL MEADE—PREPARING TO FIGHT
STUART'S CAVALRY.

Accompanied by Captain Forsyth and Lieutenant Moore, I arrived in
Washington on the morning of April, 4, 1864, and stopped at Willard's
Hotel, where, staying temporarily, were many officers of the Army of the
Potomac en route to their commands from leave at the North. Among all
these, however, I was an entire stranger, and I cannot now recall that I met a
single individual whom I had ever before known.
With very little delay after reaching my hotel I made my way to General
Halleck's headquarters and reported to that officer, having learned in the
meantime that General Grant was absent from the city. General Halleck
talked to me for a few minutes, outlining briefly the nature and duties of my
new command, and the general military situation in Virginia. When he had
finished all he had to say about these matters, he took me to the office of the
Secretary of War, to present me to Mr. Stanton. During the ceremony of
introduction, I could feel that Mr. Stanton was eying me closely and
searchingly, endeavoring to form some estimate of one about whom he
knew absolutely nothing, and whose career probably had never been called
to his attention until General Grant decided to order me East, after my name
had been suggested by General Halleck in an interview the two generals
had with Mr. Lincoln. I was rather young in appearance—looking even
under than over thirty-three years—but five feet five inches in height, and
thin almost to emaciation, weighing only one hundred and fifteen pounds. If
I had ever possessed any self-assertion in manner or speech, it certainly
vanished in the presence of the imperious Secretary, whose name at the time
was the synonym of all that was cold and formal. I never learned what Mr.
Stanton's first impressions of me were, and his guarded and rather
calculating manner gave at this time no intimation that they were either
favorable or unfavorable, but his frequent commendation in after years
indicated that I gained his goodwill before the close of the war, if not when
I first came to his notice; and a more intimate association convinced me that
the cold and cruel characteristics popularly ascribed to him were more
mythical than real.
When the interview with the Secretary was over, I proceeded with
General Halleck to the White House to pay my respects to the President.
Mr. Lincoln received me very cordially, offering both his hands, and saying

that he hoped I would fulfill the expectations of General Grant in the new
command I was about to undertake, adding that thus far the cavalry of the
Army of the Potomac had not done all it might have done, and wound up
our short conversation by quoting that stale interrogation so prevalent
during the early years of the war, "Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?" His
manner did not impress me, however, that in asking the question he had
meant anything beyond a jest, and I parted from the President convinced
that he did not believe all that the query implied.
After taking leave I separated from General Halleck, and on returning to
my hotel found there an order from the War Department assigning me to the
command of the Cavalry Corps, Army of the Potomac. The next morning,
April 5, as I took the cars for the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac,
General Grant, who had returned to Washington the previous night from a
visit to his family, came aboard the train on his way to Culpeper Court
House, and on the journey down I learned among other things that he had
wisely determined to continue personally in the field, associating himself
with General Meade's army; where he could supervise its movements
directly, and at the same time escape the annoyances which, should he
remain in Washington, would surely arise from solicitude for the safety of
the Capital while the campaign was in progress. When we reached Brandy
Station, I left the train and reported to General Meade, who told me that the
headquarters of the Cavalry Corps were some distance back from the
Station, and indicated the general locations of the different divisions of the
corps, also giving me, in the short time I remained with him, much
information regarding their composition.
I reached the Cavalry Corps headquarters on the evening of April 5,
1864, and the next morning issued orders assuming command. General
Pleasonton had but recently been relieved, and many of his staff-officers
were still on duty at the headquarters awaiting the arrival of the permanent
commander. I resolved to retain the most of these officers on my staff, and
although they were all unknown to me when I decided on this course, yet I
never had reason to regret it, nor to question the selections made by my
predecessor.
The corps consisted of three cavalry divisions and twelve batteries of
horse artillery. Brigadier-General A. T. A. Torbert was in command of the
First Division, which was composed of three brigades; Brigadier-General

D. McM. Gregg, of the Second, consisting of two brigades; and Brigadier-
General J. H. Wilson was afterward assigned to command the Third, also
comprising two brigades: Captain Robinson, a veteran soldier of the
Mexican war, was chief of artillery, and as such had a general supervision
of that arm, though the batteries, either as units or in sections, were
assigned to the different divisions in campaign.
Each one of my division commanders was a soldier by profession.
Torbert graduated from the Military Academy in 1855, and was
commissioned in the infantry, in which arm he saw much service on the
frontier, in Florida, and on the Utah expedition. At the beginning of
hostilities in April, 1861, he was made a colonel of New Jersey volunteers,
and from that position was promoted in the fall of 1862 to be a brigadier-
general, thereafter commanding a brigade of infantry in the Army of the
Potomac till, in the redistribution of generals, after Grant came to the East,
he was assigned to the First Cavalry Division.

Gregg graduated in 1855 also, and was appointed to the First Dragoons,
with which regiment, up to the breaking out of the war, he saw frontier
service extending from Fort Union, New Mexico, through to the Pacific
coast, and up into Oregon and Washington Territories, where I knew him
slightly. In the fall of 1861 he became colonel of the Eighth Pennsylvania
Cavalry, and a year later was made a brigadier-general. He then succeeded
to the command of a division of cavalry, and continued in that position till
the close of his service, at times temporarily commanding the Cavalry
Corps. He was the only division commander I had whose experience had
been almost exclusively derived from the cavalry arm.

Wilson graduated in 1860 in the Topographical Engineers, and was first
assigned to duty in Oregon, where he remained till July, 1861. In the fall of
that year his active service in the war began, and he rose from one position
to another, in the East and West, till, while on General Grant's staff, he was
made a brigadier-general in the fall of 1863 in reward for services
performed during the Vicksburg campaign and for engineer duty at
Chattanooga preceding the battle of Missionary Ridge. At my request he
was selected to command the Third Division. General Grant thought highly
of him, and, expecting much from his active mental and physical ability,
readily assented to assign him in place of General Kilpatrick. The only
other general officers in the corps were Brigadier-General Wesley Merritt,

Brigadier-General George A. Custer, and Brigadier-General Henry E.
Davies, each commanding a brigade.

In a few days after my arrival at Brandy Station I reviewed my new
command, which consisted of about twelve thousand officers and men, with
the same number of horses in passable trim. Many of the general officers of
the army were present at the review, among them Generals Meade,
Hancock, and Sedgwick. Sedgwick being an old dragoon, came to renew
his former associations with mounted troops, and to encourage me, as he
jestingly said, because of the traditional prejudices the cavalrymen were
supposed to hold against being commanded by an infantry officer. The
corps presented a fine appearance at the review, and so far as the health and
equipment of the men were concerned the showing was good and
satisfactory; but the horses were thin and very much worn down by
excessive and, it seemed to me, unnecessary picket duty, for the cavalry
picket-line almost completely encircled the infantry and artillery camps of
the army, covering a distance, on a continuous line, of nearly sixty miles,
with hardly a mounted Confederate confronting it at any point. From the
very beginning of the war the enemy had shown more wisdom respecting
his cavalry than we. Instead of wasting its strength by a policy of
disintegration he, at an early day, had organized his mounted force into
compact masses, and plainly made it a favorite; and, as usual, he was now
husbanding the strength of his horses by keeping them to the rear, so that in
the spring he could bring them out in good condition for the impending
campaign.
Before and at the review I took in this situation, and determined to
remedy it if possible; so in due time I sought an interview with General
Meade and informed him that, as the effectiveness of my command rested
mainly on the strength of its horses, I thought the duty it was then
performing was both burdensome and wasteful. I also gave him my idea as
to what the cavalry should do, the main purport of which was that it ought
to be kept concentrated to fight the enemy's cavalry. Heretofore, the
commander of the Cavalry Corps had been, virtually, but an adjunct at army
headquarters—a sort of chief of cavalry—and my proposition seemed to
stagger General Meade not a little. I knew that it would be difficult to
overcome the recognized custom of using the cavalry for the protection of
trains and the establishment of cordons around the infantry corps, and so far
subordinating its operations to the movements of the main army that in
name only was it a corps at all, but still I thought it my duty to try.

At first General Meade would hardly listen to my proposition, for he was
filled with the prejudices that, from the beginning of the war, had pervaded
the army regarding the importance and usefulness of cavalry, General Scott
then predicting that the contest would be settled by artillery, and thereafter
refusing the services of regiment after regiment of mounted troops. General
Meade deemed cavalry fit for little more than guard and picket duty, and
wanted to know what would protect the transportation trains and artillery
reserve, cover the front of moving infantry columns, and secure his flanks
from intrusion, if my policy were pursued. I told him that if he would let me
use the cavalry as I contemplated, he need have little solicitude in these
respects, for, with a mass of ten thousand mounted men, it was my belief
that I could make it so lively for the enemy's cavalry that, so far as attacks
from it were concerned, the flanks and rear of the Army of the Potomac
would require little or no defense, and claimed, further, that moving
columns of infantry should take care of their own fronts. I also told him that
it was my object to defeat the enemy's cavalry in a general combat, if
possible, and by such a result establish a feeling of confidence in my own
troops that would enable us after awhile to march where we pleased, for the
purpose of breaking General Lee's communications and destroying the
resources from which his army was supplied.
The idea as here outlined was contrary to Meade's convictions, for
though at different times since he commanded the Army of the Potomac
considerable bodies of the cavalry had been massed for some special
occasion, yet he had never agreed to the plan as a permanency, and could
not be bent to it now. He gave little encouragement, therefore, to what I
proposed, yet the conversation was immediately beneficial in one way, for
when I laid before him the true condition of the cavalry, he promptly
relieved it from much of the arduous and harassing picket service it was
performing, thus giving me about two weeks in which to nurse the horses
before the campaign opened.
The interview also disclosed the fact that the cavalry commander should
be, according to General Meade's views, at his headquarters practically as
one of his staff, through whom he would give detailed directions as, in his
judgment, occasion required. Meade's ideas and mine being so widely
divergent, disagreements arose between us later during the battles of the
Wilderness, which lack of concord ended in some concessions on his part
after the movement toward Spottsylvania Court House began, and although

I doubt that his convictions were ever wholly changed, yet from that date
on, in the organization of the Army of the Potomac, the cavalry corps
became more of a compact body, with the same privileges and
responsibilities that attached to the other corps—conditions that never
actually existed before.
On the 4th of May the Army of the Potomac moved against Lee, who was
occupying a defensive position on the south bank of the Rapidan. After
detailing the various detachments which I was obliged to supply for escorts
and other mounted duty, I crossed the river with an effective force of about
10,000 troopers. In the interval succeeding my assignment to the command
of the cavalry, I had taken the pains to study carefully the topography of the
country in eastern Virginia, and felt convinced that, under the policy Meade
intended I should follow, there would be little opportunity for mounted
troops to acquit themselves well in a region so thickly wooded, and
traversed by so many almost parallel streams; but conscious that he would
be compelled sooner or later either to change his mind or partially give way
to the pressure of events, I entered on the campaign with the loyal
determination to aid zealously in all its plans.
General Lee's army was located in its winter quarters behind
intrenchments that lay along the Rapidan for a distance of about twenty
miles; extending from Barnett's to Morton's ford. The fords below Morton's
were watched by a few small detachments of Confederate cavalry, the main
body of which, however, was encamped below Hamilton's crossing, where
it could draw supplies from the rich country along the Rappahannock. Only
a few brigades of Lee's infantry guarded the works along the river, the bulk
of it being so situated that it could be thrown to either flank toward which
the Union troops approached.
General Grant adopted the plan of moving by his left flank, with the
purpose of compelling Lee to come out from behind his intrenchments
along Mine Run and fight on equal terms. Grant knew well the character of
country through which he would have to pass, but he was confident that the
difficulties of operation in the thickly wooded region of the Wilderness
would be counterbalanced by the facility with which his position would
enable him to secure a new base; and by the fact that as he would thus cover
Washington, there would be little or no necessity for the authorities there to

detach from his force at some inopportune moment for the protection of that
city.
In the move forward two divisions of my cavalry took the advance,
Gregg crossing the Rapidan at Ely's ford and Wilson at Germania ford.
Torbert's division remained in the rear to cover the trains and reserve
artillery, holding from Rapidan Station to Culpeper, and thence through
Stevensburg to the Rappahannock River. Gregg crossed the Rapidan before
daylight, in advance of the Second Corps, and when the latter reached Ely's
ford, he pushed on to Chancellorsville; Wilson preceded the Fifth Corps to
Germania ford, and when it reached the river he made the crossing and
moved rapidly by Wilderness Tavern, as far as Parker's Store, from which
point he sent a heavy reconnoissance toward Mine Run, the rest of his
division bivouacking in a strong position. I myself proceeded to
Chancellorsville and fixed my headquarters at that place, whereon the 5th I
was joined by Torbert's division.
Meanwhile, General Meade had crossed the Rapidan and established his
headquarters not far from Germania ford. From that point he was in direct
communication with Wilson, whose original instructions from me carried
him only as far as Parker's Store, but it being found, during the night of the
4th, that the enemy was apparently unacquainted with the occurrences of
the day, Meade directed Wilson to advance in the direction of Craig's
Meeting House; leaving one regiment to hold Parker's Store. Wilson with
the second brigade encountered Rosser's brigade of cavalry just beyond the
Meeting House, and drove it back rapidly a distance of about two miles,
holding it there till noon, while his first brigade was halted on the north side
of Robinson's Run near the junction of the Catharpen and Parker's Store
roads.
Up to this time Wilson had heard nothing of the approach of the Fifth
Corps, and the situation becoming threatening, he withdrew the second
brigade to the position occupied by the first, but scarcely had he done so
when he learned that at an early hour in the forenoon the enemy's infantry
had appeared in his rear at Parker's Store and cut off his communication
with General Meade. Surprised at this, he determined to withdraw to Todd's
Tavern, but before his resolution could be put into execution the
Confederates attacked him with a heavy force, and at the same time began
pushing troops down the Catharpen road. Wilson was now in a perplexing

situation, sandwiched between the Confederates who had cut him off in the
rear at Parker's store and those occupying the Catharpen road, but he
extricated his command by passing it around the latter force, and reached
Todd's Tavern by crossing the Po River at Corbin's bridge. General Meade
discovering that the enemy had interposed at Parker's store between Wilson
and the Fifth Corps, sent me word to go to Wilson's relief, and this was the
first intimation I received that Wilson had been pushed out so far, but,
surmising that he would retire in the direction of Todd's Tavern I
immediately despatched Gregg's division there to his relief. Just beyond
Todd's Tavern Gregg met Wilson, who was now being followed by the
enemy's cavalry. The pursuing force was soon checked, and then driven
back to Shady Grove Church, while Wilson's troops fell in behind Gregg's
line, somewhat the worse for their morning's adventure.
When the Army of the Potomac commenced crossing the Rapidan on the
4th, General J. E. B. Stuart, commanding the Confederate cavalry, began
concentrating his command on the right of Lee's infantry, bringing it from
Hamilton's crossing and other points where it had been wintering. Stuart's
force at this date was a little more than eight thousand men, organized in
two divisions, commanded by Generals Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee.
Hampton's division was composed of three brigades, commanded by
Generals Cordon, Young, and Rosser; Fitzhugh Lee's division comprised
three brigades also, Generals W. H. F. Lee, Lomax, and Wickham
commanding them.
Information of this concentration, and of the additional fact that the
enemy's cavalry about Hamilton's crossing was all being drawn in, reached
me on the 5th, which obviated all necessity for my moving on that point as I
intended at the onset of the campaign. The responsibility for the safety of
our trains and of the left flank of the army still continued, however, so I
made such dispositions of my troops as to secure these objects by holding
the line of the Brock road beyond the Furnaces, and thence around to Todd's
Tavern and Piney Branch Church. On the 6th, through some false
information, General Meade became alarmed about his left flank, and sent
me the following note:

"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"May 6, 1864.—1 o'clock P. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps

"Your despatch of 11.45 a.m., received. General Hancock
has been heavily pressed, and his left turned. The major-
general commanding thinks that you had better draw in your
cavalry, so as to secure the protection of the trains. The
order requiring an escort for the wagons to-night has been
rescinded.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

On the morning of the 6th Custer's and Devin's brigades had been
severely engaged at the Furnaces before I received the above note. They
had been most successful in repulsing the enemy's attacks, however, and I
felt that the line taken up could be held; but the despatch from General
Humphreys was alarming, so I drew all the cavalry close in toward
Chancellorsville. It was found later that Hancock's left had not been turned,
and the points thus abandoned had to be regained at a heavy cost in killed
and wounded, to both the cavalry and the infantry.
On the 7th of May, under directions from headquarters, Army of the
Potomac, the trains were put in motion to go into park at Piney Branch
Church, in anticipation of the movement that was about to be made for the
possession of Spottsylvania Court House. I felt confident that the order to
move the trains there had been given without a full understanding of the
situation, for Piney Branch Church was now held by the enemy, a condition
which had resulted from the order withdrawing the cavalry on account of
the supposed disaster to Hancock's left the day before; but I thought the best
way to remedy matters was to hold the trains in the vicinity of Aldrich's till
the ground on which it was intended to park them should be regained.
This led to the battle of Todd's Tavern, a spirited fight for the possession
of the crossroads at that point, participated in by the enemy's cavalry and
Gregg's division, and two brigades of Torbert's division, the latter
commanded by Merritt, as Torbert became very ill on the 6th, and had to be
sent to the rear. To gain the objective point—the crossroads—I directed
Gregg to assail the enemy on the Catharpen road with Irvin Gregg's brigade

and drive him over Corbin's bridge, while Merritt attacked him with the
Reserve brigade on the Spottsylvania road in conjunction with Davies's
brigade of Gregg's division, which was to be put in on the Piney Branch
Church road, and unite with Merritt's left. Davies's and Irvin Gregg's
brigades on my right and left flanks met with some resistance, yet not
enough to deter them from, executing their orders. In front of Merritt the
enemy held on more stubbornly, however, and there ensued an exceedingly
severe and, at times, fluctuating fight. Finally the Confederates gave way,
and we pursued them almost to Spottsylvania Court House; but deeming it
prudent to recall the pursuers about dark, I encamped Gregg's and Merritt's
divisions in the open fields to the east of Todd's Tavern.

During the preceding three days the infantry corps of the army had been
engaged in the various conflicts known as the battles of the Wilderness. The
success of the Union troops in those battles had not been all that was
desired, and General Grant now felt that it was necessary to throw himself
on Lee's communications if possible, while preserving his own intact by
prolonging the movement to the left. Therefore, on the evening of the 7th he
determined to shift his whole army toward Spottsylvania Court House, and
initiated the movement by a night march of the infantry to Todd's Tavern. In
view of what was contemplated, I gave orders to Gregg and Merritt to move
at daylight on the morning of the 8th, for the purpose of gaining possession
of Snell's bridge over the Po River, the former by the crossing at Corbin's
bridge and the latter by the Block House. I also directed Wilson, who was at
Alsop's house, to take possession of Spottsylvania as early as possible on
the morning of the 8th, and then move into position at Snell's bridge
conjointly with the other two divisions. Wilson's orders remained as I had
issued them, so he moved accordingly and got possession of Spottsylvania,
driving the enemy's cavalry a mile beyond, as will be seen by the following
despatch sent me at 9 A. M. of the 8th:

"HEADQUARTERS THIRD DIVISION, CAVALRY CORPS,
"ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
"SPOTTSYLVANIA COURT HOUSE, May 8, 1864 9 A. M.
"LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FORSYTH, CHIEF-OF-STAFF,
C. C.

"Have run the enemy's cavalry a mile from Spottsylvania
Court House; have charged them, and drove them through
the village; am fighting now with a considerable force,
supposed to be Lee's division. Everything all right.

"J. H. WILSON,
"Brigadier-General Commanding.

During the night of the 7th General Meade arrived at Todd's Tavern and
modified the orders I had given Gregg and Merritt, directing Gregg simply
to hold Corbin's bridge, and Merritt to move out in front of the infantry

column marching on the Spottsylvania road. Merritt proceeded to obey, but
in advancing, our cavalry and infantry became intermingled in the darkness,
and much confusion and delay was the consequence. I had not been duly
advised of these changes in Gregg's and Merritt's orders, and for a time I
had fears for the safety of Wilson, but, while he was preparing to move on
to form his junction with Gregg and Merritt at Snell's bridge, the advance of
Anderson (who was now commanding Longstreet's corps) appeared on the
scene and drove him from Spottsylvania.
Had Gregg and Merritt been permitted to proceed as they were originally
instructed, it is doubtful whether the battles fought at Spottsylvania would
have occurred, for these two divisions would have encountered the enemy
at the Pa River, and so delayed his march as to enable our infantry to reach
Spottsylvania first, and thus force Lee to take up a line behind the Po. I had
directed Wilson to move from the left by "the Gate" through Spottsylvania
to Snell's bridge, while Gregg and Merritt were to advance to the same
point by Shady Grove and the Block House. There was nothing to prevent
at least a partial success of these operations; that is to say, the concentration
of the three divisions in front of Snell's bridge, even if we could not actually
have gained it. But both that important point and the bridge on the Block
House road were utterly ignored, and Lee's approach to Spottsylvania left
entirely unobstructed, while three divisions of cavalry remained practically
ineffective by reason of disjointed and irregular instructions.
On the morning of the 8th, when I found that such orders had been given,
I made some strong remonstrances against the course that had been
pursued, but it was then too late to carry out the combinations I had
projected the night before, so I proceeded to join Merritt on the
Spottsylvania road. On reaching Merritt I found General Warren making
complaint that the cavalry were obstructing his infantry column, so I drew
Merritt off the road, and the leading division of the Fifth Corps pushed up
to the front. It got into line about 11 o'clock, and advanced to take the
village, but it did not go very far before it struck Anderson's corps, and was
hurled back with heavy loss. This ended all endeavor to take Spottsylvania
that day.
A little before noon General Meade sent for me, and when I reached his
headquarters I found that his peppery temper had got the better of his good
judgment, he showing a disposition to be unjust, laying blame here and

there for the blunders that had been committed. He was particularly severe
on the cavalry, saying, among other things, that it had impeded the march of
the Fifth Corps by occupying the Spottsylvania road. I replied that if this
were true, he himself had ordered it there without my knowledge. I also told
him that he had broken up my combinations, exposed Wilson's division to
disaster, and kept Gregg unnecessarily idle, and further, repelled his
insinuations by saying that such disjointed operations as he had been
requiring of the cavalry for the last four days would render the corps
inefficient and useless before long. Meade was very much irritated, and I
was none the less so. One word brought on another, until, finally, I told him
that I could whip Stuart if he (Meade) would only let me, but since he
insisted on giving the cavalry directions without consulting or even
notifying me, he could henceforth command the Cavalry Corps himself—
that I would not give it another order.
The acrimonious interview ended with this remark, and after I left him he
went to General Grant's headquarters and repeated the conversation to him,
mentioning that I had said that I could whip Stuart. At this General Grant
remarked: "Did he say so? Then let him go out and do it." This intimation
was immediately acted upon by General Meade, and a little later the
following order came to me:

"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC
"May 8th, 1864 1 P. M.

"GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps.

"The major-general commanding directs you to immediately
concentrate your available mounted force, and with your
ammunition trains and such supply trains as are filled
(exclusive of ambulances) proceed against the enemy's
cavalry, and when your supplies are exhausted, proceed via
New Market and Green Bay to Haxall's Landing on the
James River, there communicating with General Butler,
procuring supplies and return to this army. Your dismounted
men will be left with the train here.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-staff."

As soon as the above order was received I issued instructions for the
concentration of the three divisions of cavalry at Aldrich's to prepare for the
contemplated expedition. Three days' rations for the men were distributed,
and half rations of grain for one day were doled out for the horses. I sent for
Gregg, Merritt, and Wilson and communicated the order to them, saying at
the same time, "We are going out to fight Stuart's cavalry in consequence of
a suggestion from me; we will give him a fair, square fight; we are strong,
and I know we can beat him, and in view of my recent representations to
General Meade I shall expect nothing but success." I also indicated to my
division commanders the line of march I should take—moving in one
column around the right flank of Lee's army to get in its rear—and stated at
the same time that it was my intention to fight Stuart wherever he presented
himself, and if possible go through to Haxall's Landing; but that if Stuart
should successfully interpose between us and that point we would swing
back to the Army of the Potomac by passing around the enemy's left flank
by way of Gordonsville. At first the proposition seemed to surprise the
division commanders somewhat, for hitherto even the boldest, mounted
expeditions had been confined to a hurried ride through the enemy's
country, without purpose of fighting more than enough to escape in case of
molestation, and here and there to destroy a bridge. Our move would be a
challenge to Stuart for a cavalry duel behind Lee's lines, in his own country,
but the advantages which it was reasonable to anticipate from the plan
being quickly perceived, each division commander entered into its support
unhesitatingly, and at once set about preparing for the march next day.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE EXPEDITION STARTS—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—OPENING
OF THE FIGHT AT YELLOW TAVERN—GENERAL CUSTER'S
BRILLIANT CHARGE—DEATH OF GENERAL STUART—
REMOVING TORPEDOES—EXCITEMENT IN RICHMOND—A
NIGHT MARCH—ENTERPRISING NEWSBOYS—THE EFFECTS OF
STUART'S DEFEAT AND DEATH—END OF THE FIRST EXPEDITION
—ITS GREAT SUCCESS AND BENEFICIAL RESULTS.

The expedition which resulted in the battle of Yellow Tavern and the
death of General Stuart started from the vicinity of Aldrich's toward
Fredericksburg early on the morning of May 9, 1864, marching on the
plank-road, Merritt's division leading. When the column reached Tabernacle
Church it headed almost due east to the telegraph road, and thence down
that highway to Thornburg, and from that point through Childsburg to
Anderson's crossing of the North Anna River, it being my desire to put my
command south of that stream if possible, where it could procure forage
before it should be compelled to fight. The corps moved at a walk, three
divisions on the same road, making a column nearly thirteen miles in
length, and marched around the right flank of the enemy unsuspected until
my rear guard had passed Massaponax Church. Although the column was
very long, I preferred to move it all on one road rather than to attempt
combinations for carrying the divisions to any given point by different
routes. Unless the separate commands in an expedition of this nature are
very prompt in movement, and each fully equal to overcoming at once any
obstacle it may meet, combinations rarely work out as expected; besides, an
engagement was at all times imminent, hence it was specially necessary to
keep the whole force well together.
As soon as the Ny, Po, and Ta rivers were crossed, each of which streams
would have afforded an excellent defensive line to the enemy, all anxiety as
to our passing around Lee's army was removed, and our ability to cross the
North Anna placed beyond doubt. Meanwhile General Stuart had
discovered what we were about, and he set his cavalry in motion, sending
General Fitzhugh Lee to follow and attack my rear on the Childsburg road,
Stuart himself marching by way of Davenport's bridge, on the North Anna,
toward Beaver Dam Station, near which place his whole command was
directed to unite the next day.
My column having passed the Ta River, Stuart attacked its rear with
considerable vigor, in the hope that he could delay my whole force long
enough to permit him to get at least a part of his command in my front; but
this scheme was frustrated by Davies's brigade, which I directed to fight as

a rear-guard, holding on at one position and then at another along the line of
march just enough to deter the enemy from a too rapid advance. Davies
performed this responsible and trying duty with tact and good judgment,
following the main column steadily as it progressed to the south, and never
once permitting Fitzhugh Lee's advance to encroach far enough to compel a
halt of my main body. About dark Merritt's division crossed the North Anna
at Anderson's ford, while Gregg and Wilson encamped on the north side,
having engaged the enemy, who still hung on my rear up to a late hour at
night.
After Merritt's division passed the river, Custer's brigade proceeded on to
Beaver Dam Station to cut the Virginia Central railroad. Before reaching the
station he met a small force of the enemy, but this he speedily drove off,
recapturing from it about four hundred Union prisoners, who had been
taken recently in the Wilderness and were being conducted to Richmond.
Custer also destroyed the station, two locomotives, three trains of cars,
ninety wagons, from eight to ten miles of railroad and telegraph lines, some
two hundred thousand pounds of bacon and other supplies, amounting in all
to about a million and a half of rations, and nearly all they medical stores of
General Lee's army, which had been moved from Orange Court House
either because Lee wished to have them directly in his rear or because he
contemplated falling back to the North Anna.
On the morning of the 10th Gregg and Wilson, while crossing the North
Anna, were again attacked, but were covered by the division on the south
side of the stream; the passage was effected without much loss,
notwithstanding the approach of Stuart on the south bank from the direction
of Davenport's bridge. The possession of Beaver Dam gave us an important
point, as it opened a way toward Richmond by the Negro-foot road. It also
enabled us to obtain forage for our well-nigh famished animals, and to
prepare for fighting the enemy, who, I felt sure, would endeavor to
interpose between my column and Richmond.
Stuart had hardly united his troops near Beaver Dam when he realized
that concentrating there was a mistake, so he began making dispositions for
remedying his error, and while we leisurely took the Negro-foot toad
toward Richmond, he changed his tactics and hauled off from my rear,
urging his horses to the death in order to get in between Richmond and my
column. This he effected about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 11th,

concentrating at Yellow Tavern, six miles from the city, on the Brook
turnpike. His change of tactics left my march on the 10th practically
unmolested, and we quietly encamped that night on the south bank of the
South Anna, near Ground Squirrel Bridge. Here we procured an abundance
of forage, and as the distance traveled that day had been only fifteen to
eighteen miles, men and horses were able to obtain a good rest during the
night.
At 2 o'clock in the morning, May 11, Davies's brigade of Gregg's division
marched for Ashland to cut the Fredericksburg railroad. Arriving there
before the head of the enemy's column, which had to pass through this same
place to reach Yellow Tavern, Davies drove out a small force occupying the
town, burnt a train of cars and a locomotive, destroyed the railroad for some
distance, and rejoined the main column at Allen's Station on the
Fredericksburg and Richmond railroad. From Allen's Station the whole
command moved on Yellow Tavern, Merritt in the lead, Wilson following,
and Gregg in the rear.
The appearance of Davies's brigade at Ashland in the morning had had
the effect of further mystifying the enemy as to my intentions; and while he
held it incumbent to place himself between me and Richmond, yet he was
still so uncertain of my movements that he committed the same fault that he
did the first day, when he divided his force and sent a part to follow me on
the Childsburg road. He now divided his command again, sending a portion
to hang upon my rear, while he proceeded with the rest to Yellow Tavern.
This separation not only materially weakened the force which might have
been thrown across my line of march, but it also enabled me to attack with
almost my entire corps, while occupying the pursuers with a small
rearguard.
By forced marches General Stuart succeeded in reaching Yellow Tavern
ahead of me on May 11; and the presence of his troops, on the Ashland and
Richmond road becoming known to Merritt as he was approaching the
Brook turnpike, this general pressed forward at once to the attack. Pushing
his division to the front, he soon got possession of the turnpike and drove
the enemy back several hundred yards to the east of it. This success had the
effect of throwing the head of my column to the east of the pike, and I
quickly brought up Wilson and one of Gregg's brigades to take advantage of
the situation by forming a line of battle on that side or the road. Meanwhile

the enemy, desperate but still confident, poured in a heavy fire from his line
and from a battery which enfiladed the Brook road, and made Yellow
Tavern an uncomfortably hot place. Gibbs's and Devin's brigades, however,
held fast there, while Custer, supported by Chapman's brigade, attacked the
enemy's left and battery in a mounted charge.
Custer's charge, with Chapman on his flank and the rest of Wilson's
division sustaining him, was brilliantly executed. Beginning at a walk, he
increased his gait to a trot, and then at full speed rushed at the enemy. At the
same moment the dismounted troops along my whole front moved forward,
and as Custer went through the battery, capturing two of the guns with their
cannoneers and breaking up the enemy's left, Gibbs and Devin drove his
centre and right from the field. Gregg meanwhile, with equal success,
charged the force in his rear-Gordon's brigadeand the engagement ended by
giving us complete control of the road to Richmond. We captured a number
of prisoners, and the casualties on both sides were quite severe, General
Stuart himself falling mortally wounded, and General James B. Gordon, one
of his brigade commanders, being killed.
After Custer's charge, the Confederate cavalry was badly broken up, the
main portion of it being driven in a rout toward Ashland and a small part in
the direction of Richmond, which latter force finally rejoined Fitzhugh Lee
near Mechanicsville. A reconnoitring party being now sent up the Brook
turnpike toward the city, dashed across the South Fork of the
Chickahominy, drove a small force from the enemy's exterior intrenchments
and went within them. I followed this party, and after a little exploration
found between the two lines of works a country road that led across to the
pike which runs from Mechanicsville to Richmond. I thought we could go
around within the outer line of works by this country road across to the
Mechanicsville pike on the south side of the Chickahominy, and encamp the
next night at Fair Oaks; so I determined to make the movement after dark,
being influenced in this to some extent by reports received during the
afternoon from colored people, to the effect that General B. F. Butler's army
had reached a small stream on the south side of the James, about four miles
south of Richmond. If I could succeed in getting through by this road, not
only would I have a shorter line of march to Haxall's landing, but there was
also a possibility that I could help Butler somewhat by joining him so near
Richmond. Therefore, after making the wounded as comfortable as
possible, we commenced the march about 11 o'clock on the night of the

1lth, and massed the command on the plateau south of the Meadow bridge
near daylight on the 12th.
The enemy, anticipating that I would march by this route, had planted
torpedoes along it, and many of these exploded as the column passed over
them, killing several horses and wounding a few men, but beyond this we
met with no molestation. The torpedoes were loaded shells planted on each
side of the road, and so connected by wires attached to friction-tubes in the
shells, that when a horse's hoof struck a wire the shell was exploded by the
jerk on the improvised lanyard. After the loss of several horses and the
wounding of some of the men by these torpedoes, I gave directions to have
them removed, if practicable, so about twenty-five of the prisoners were
brought up and made to get down on their knees, feel for the wires in the
darkness, follow them up and unearth the shells. The prisoners reported the
owner of one of the neighboring houses to be the principal person who had
engaged in planting these shells, and I therefore directed that some of them
be carried and placed in the cellar of his house, arranged to explode if the
enemy's column came that way, while he and his family were brought off as
prisoners and held till after daylight.
Meanwhile the most intense excitement prevailed in Richmond. The
Confederates, supposing that their capital was my objective point, were
straining every effort to put it in a state of defense, and had collected
between four and five thousand irregular troops, under General Bragg,
besides bringing up three brigades of infantry from the force confronting
General Butler south of the James River, the alarm being intensified by the
retreat, after the defeat at Yellow Tavern, of Stuart's cavalry, now under
General Fitzhugh Lee, by way of Ashland to Mechanicsville, on the north
side of the Chickahominy, for falling back in that direction, left me between
them and Richmond.
Our march during the night of the 11th was very tedious, on account of
the extreme darkness and frequent showers of rain; but at daylight on the
12th the head of my column, under Wilson, reached the Mechanicsville
pike. Here Wilson, encountering the enemy's works and batteries manned
by General Bragg's troops, endeavored to pass. In this he failed, and as soon
as I was notified that it was impracticable to reach Fair Oaks by passing
between the works and the Chickahominy, Custer's brigade was directed to
make the crossing to the north side of the Chickahominy, at the Meadow

bridge. Custer moved rapidly for the bridge, but found it destroyed, and that
the enemy's cavalry was posted on the north side, in front of
Mechanicsville. When this information came back, I ordered Merritt to take
his whole division and repair the bridge, instructing him that the crossing
must be made at all hazards; for, in view of an impending attack by the
enemy's infantry in Richmond, it was necessary that I should have the
bridge as a means of egress in case of serious disaster.
All the time that Merritt was occupied in this important duty, the enemy
gave great annoyance to the working party by sweeping the bridge with a
section of artillery and a fire from the supporting troops, so a small force
was thrown across to drive them away. When Merritt had passed two
regiments over, they attacked, but were repulsed. The work on the bridge
continued however, not-withstanding this discomfiture; and when it was
finished, Merritt crossed nearly all his division, dismounted, and again
attacked the enemy, this time carrying the line, of temporary breastworks,
built with logs and rails, and pursuing his broken troops toward Gaines's
Mills.
While Merritt was engaged in this affair, the Confederates advanced from
behind their works at Richmond, and attacked Wilson and Gregg. Wilson's
troops were driven back in some confusion at first; but Gregg, in
anticipation of attack, had hidden a heavy line of dismounted men in a
bushy ravine on his front, and when the enemy marched upon it, with much
display and under the eye of the President of the Confederacy, this
concealed line opened a destructive fire with repeating carbines; and at the
same time the batteries of horse-artillery, under Captain Robinson, joining
in the contest, belched forth shot and shell with fatal effect. The galling fire
caused the enemy to falter, and while still wavering Wilson rallied his men,
and turning some of them against the right flank of the Confederates, broke
their line, and compelled them to withdraw for security behind the heavy
works thrown up for the defense of the city in 1862.
By destroying the Meadow bridge and impeding my column on the
Mechanicsville, pike, the enemy thought to corner us completely, for he still
maintained the force in Gregg's rear that had pressed it the day before; but
the repulse of his infantry ended all his hopes of doing us any serious
damage on the limited ground between the defenses of Richmond and the
Chickahominy. He felt certain that on account of the recent heavy rains we

could not cross the Chickahominy except by the Meadow bridge, and it also
seemed clear to him that we could not pass between the river and his
intrenchments; therefore he hoped to ruin us, or at least compel us to return
by the same route we had taken in coming, in which case we would run into
Gordon's brigade, but the signal repulse of Bragg's infantry dispelled these
illusions.
Even had it not been our good fortune to defeat him, we could have
crossed the Chickahominy if necessary at several points that were
discovered by scouting parties which, while the engagement was going on, I
had sent out to look up fords. This means of getting out from the
circumscribed plateau I did not wish to use, however, unless there was no
alternative, for I wished to demonstrate to the Cavalry Corps the
impossibility of the enemy's destroying or capturing so large a body of
mounted troops.
The chances of seriously injuring, us were more favorable to the enemy
this time than ever they were afterward, for with the troops from Richmond,
comprising three brigades of veterans and about five thousand irregulars on
my front and right flank, with Gordon's cavalry in the rear, and Fitzhugh
Lee's cavalry on my left flank, holding the Chickahominy and Meadow
bridge, I was apparently hemmed in on every side, but relying on the
celerity with which mounted troops could be moved, I felt perfectly
confident that the seemingly perilous situation could be relieved under
circumstances even worse than those then surrounding us. Therefore,
instead of endeavoring to get away without a fight, I concluded that there
would be little difficulty in withdrawing, even should I be beaten, and none
whatever if I defeated the enemy.
In accordance with this view I accepted battle; and the complete repulse
of the enemy's infantry, which assailed us from his intrenchments, and of
Gordon's cavalry, which pressed Gregg on the Brook road, ended the
contest in our favor. The rest of the day we remained on the battle-field
undisturbed, and our time was spent in collecting the wounded, burying the
dead, grazing the horses, and reading the Richmond journals, two small
newsboys with commendable enterprise having come within our lines from
the Confederate capital to sell their papers. They were sharp youngsters,
and having come well supplied, they did a thrifty business. When their
stock in trade was all disposed of they wished to return, but they were so

intelligent and observant that I thought their mission involved other
purposes than the mere sale of newspapers, so they were held till we
crossed the Chickahominy and then turned loose.
After Merritt had crossed the Chickahominy and reached Mechanicsville,
I sent him orders to push on to Gaines's Mills. Near the latter place he fell in
with the enemy's cavalry again, and sending me word, about 4 o'clock in the
afternoon I crossed the Chickahominy with Wilson and Gregg, but when we
overtook Merritt he had already brushed the Confederates away, and my
whole command went into camp between Walnut Grove and Gaines's Mills.
The main purposes of the expedition had now been executed. They were
"to break up General Lee's railroad communications, destroy such depots of
supplies as could be found in his rear, and to defeat General Stuart's
cavalry." Many miles of the Virginia Central and of the Richmond and
Fredericksburg railroads were broken up, and several of the bridges on each
burnt. At Beaver Dam, Ashland, and other places, about two millions of
rations had been captured and destroyed. The most important of all,
however, was the defeat of Stuart. Since the beginning of the war this
general had distinguished himself by his management of the Confederate
mounted force. Under him the cavalry of Lee's army had been nurtured, and
had acquired such prestige that it thought itself well-nigh invincible; indeed,
in the early years of the war it had proved to be so. This was now dispelled
by the successful march we had made in Lee's rear; and the discomfiture of
Stuart at Yellow Tavern had inflicted a blow from which entire recovery
was impossible.
In its effect on the Confederate cause the defeat of Stuart was most
disheartening, but his death was even a greater calamity, as is evidenced by
the words of a Confederate writer (Cooke), who says: "Stuart could be ill
spared at this critical moment, and General Lee was plunged into the
deepest melancholy at the intelligence of his death. When it reached him he
retired from those around him, and remained for some time communing
with his own heart and memory. When one of his staff entered and spoke of
Stuart, General Lee said: 'I can scarcely think of him without weeping.'"
From the camp near Gaines's Mills I resumed the march to Haxall's
Landing, the point on the James River contemplated in my instructions
where I was to obtain supplies from General Butler. We got to the James on
the 14th with all our wounded and a large number of prisoners, and camped

between Haxall's and Shirley. The prisoners, as well as the captured guns,
were turned over to General Butler's provost-marshal, and our wounded
were quickly and kindly cared for by his surgeons. Ample supplies, also, in
the way of forage and rations, were furnished us by General Butler, and the
work of refitting for our return to the Army of the Potomac was vigorously
pushed. By the 17th all was ready, and having learned by scouting parties
sent in the direction of Richmond and as far as Newmarket that the enemy's
cavalry was returning to Lee's army I started that evening on my return
march, crossing the Chickahominy at Jones's bridge, and bivouacking on
the 19th near Baltimore crossroads.
My uncertainty of what had happened to the Army of the Potomac in our
absence, and as to where I should find it, made our getting back a problem
somewhat difficult of solution, particularly as I knew that reinforcements
for Lee had come up from the south to Richmond, and that most likely
some of these troops were being held at different points on the route to
intercept my column. Therefore I determined to pass the Pamunkey River at
the White House, and sent to Fort Monroe for a pontoon-bridge on which to
make the crossing. While waiting for the pontoons I ordered Custer to
proceed with his brigade to Hanover Station, to destroy the railroad bridge
over the South Anna, a little beyond that place; at the same time I sent
Gregg and Wilson to Cold Harbor, to demonstrate in the direction of
Richmond as far as Mechanicsville, so as to cover Custer's movements.
Merritt, with the remaining brigades of his division, holding fast at
Baltimore crossroads to await events.
After Gregg and Custer had gone, it was discovered that the railroad
bridge over the Pamunkey, near the White House, had been destroyed but
partially—the cross-ties and stringers being burned in places only—and that
it was practicable to repair it sufficiently to carry us over. In view of this
information General Merritt's two brigades were at once put on the duty of
reconstructing the bridge. By sending mounted parties through the
surrounding country, each man of which would bring in a board or a plank,
Merritt soon accumulated enough lumber for the flooring, and in one day
the bridge was made practicable. On the 22d Gregg, Wilson, and Custer
returned. The latter had gone on his expedition as far as Hanover Station,
destroyed some commissary stores there, and burned two trestle bridges
over Hanover Creek. This done, he deemed it prudent to retire to
Hanovertown. The next morning he again marched to Hanover Station, and

there ascertained that a strong force of the enemy, consisting of infantry,
cavalry, and artillery, was posted at the South Anna bridges. These troops
had gone there from Richmond en route to reinforce Lee. In the face of this
impediment Custer's mission could not be executed fully, so he returned to
Baltimore crossroads.
The whole command was drawn in by noon of the 22d, and that day it
crossed the Pamunkey by Merritt's reconstructed bridge, marching to
Ayletts, on the Mattapony River, the same night. Here I learned from
citizens, and from prisoners taken during the day by scouting parties sent
toward Hanover Court House, that Lee had been, forced from his position
near Spottsylvania Court House and compelled to retire to the line of the
North Anna. I then determined to rejoin the Army of the Potomac at the
earliest moment, which I did by making for Chesterfield Station, where I
reported to General Meade on the 24th of May.

Our return to Chesterfield ended the first independent expedition the
Cavalry Corps had undertaken since coming under my command, and our
success was commended highly by Generals Grant and Meade, both
realizing that our operations in the rear of Lee had disconcerted and
alarmed that general so much as to aid materially in forcing his retrograde
march, and both acknowledged that, by drawing off the enemy's cavalry

during the past fortnight, we had enabled them to move the Army of the
Potomac and its enormous trains without molestation in the manoeuvres
that had carried it to the North Anna. Then, too, great quantities of
provisions and munitions of war had been destroyed—stores that the enemy
had accumulated at sub-depots from strained resources and by difficult
means; the railroads that connected Lee with Richmond broken, the most
successful cavalry leader of the South killed, and in addition to all this there
had been inflicted on the Confederate mounted troops the most thorough
defeat that had yet befallen them in Virginia.
When the expedition set out the Confederate authorities in Richmond
were impressed, and indeed convinced, that my designs contemplated the
capture of that city, and notwithstanding the loss they sustained in the defeat
and death of Stuart, and their repulse the succeeding day, they drew much
comfort from the fact that I had not entered their capital. Some Confederate
writers have continued to hold this theory and conviction since the war. In
this view they were and are in error. When Stuart was defeated the main
purpose of my instructions had been carried out, and my thoughts then
turned to joining General Butler to get supplies. I believed that I could do
this by cutting across to the Mechanicsville pike and Fair Oaks on the south
side of the Chickahominy, but the failure of Wilson's column to get
possession of the outwork which commanded the pike necessitated my
crossing at Meadow bridge, and then moving by Mechanicsville and
Gaines's Mills instead of by the shorter route. Moreover, my information
regarding General Butler's position was incorrect, so that even had I been
successful in getting to Fair Oaks by the direct road I should still have
gained nothing thereby, for I should still have been obliged to continue
down the James River to Haxall's.

CHAPTER XX.

GENERAL WILSON'S ADVANCE TOWARD HANOVER COURT
HOUSE—CROSSING THE PAMUNKEY—ENGAGEMENT OF
HAWE'S SHOP—FIGHT AT MATADEQUIN CREEK—CAPTURE OF
COLD HARBOR—THE FIGHT TO RETAIN THE PLACE—
MOVEMENTS OF GENERAL WILSON.
When I rejoined the Army of the Potomac, near Chesterfield Station, the
heavy battles around Spottsylvania had been fought, and the complicated
manoeuvres by which the whole Union force was swung across the North
Anna were in process of execution. In conjunction with these manoeuvres
Wilson's division was sent to the right flank of the army, where he made a
reconnoissance south of the North Anna as far as Little River, crossing the
former stream near Jericho Mills. Wilson was to operate from day to day on
that flank as it swung to the south, covering to New Castle ferry each
advance of the infantry and the fords left behind on the march. From the
26th to the 30th these duties kept Wilson constantly occupied, and also
necessitated a considerable dispersion of his force, but by the 31st he was
enabled to get all his division together again, and crossing to the south side
of the Pamunkey at New Castle ferry, he advanced toward Hanover Court
House. Near Dr Pride's house he encountered a division of the enemy's
cavalry under General W. H. F. Lee, and drove it back across Mechamp's
Creek, thus opening communication with the right of our infantry resting
near Phillips's Mills. Just as this had been done, a little before dark, Wilson
received an order from General Meade directing him to push on toward
Richmond until he encountered the Confederates in such strength that he
could no longer successfully contend against them, and in compliance with
this order occupied Hanover Court House that same day. Resuming his
march at daylight on June 1, he went ahead on the Ashland road while
sending Chapman's brigade up the south bank of the South Anna to destroy
the bridges on that stream. Chapman having succeeded in this work, Wilson
re-united his whole command and endeavored to hold Ashland, but finding
the Confederate cavalry and infantry there in strong force, he was obliged to

withdraw to Dr. Price's house. Here he learned that the army had gone to the
left toward Cold Harbor, so on the 2d of June he moved to Hawe's Shop.
While Wilson was operating thus on the right, I had to cover with Gregg's
and Torbert's divisions the crossing of the army over the Pamunkey River at
and near Hanovertown. Torbert having recovered from the illness which
overtook him in the Wilderness, had now returned to duty. The march to
turn the enemy's right began on the 26th. Torbert and Gregg in advance, to
secure the crossings of the Pamunkey and demonstrate in such manner as to
deceive the enemy as much as possible in the movement, the two cavalry
divisions being supported by General D. A. Russell's division of the Sixth
Corps.
To attain this end in the presence of an ever-watchful foe who had just
recently been reinforced in considerable numbers from Richmond and
further south—almost enough to make up the losses he had sustained in the
Wilderness and at Spottsylvania—required the most vigorous and zealous
work on the part of those to whom had been allotted the task of carrying out
the initial manoeuvres. Torbert started for Taylor's ford on the Pamunkey
with directions to demonstrate heavily at that point till after dark, as if the
crossing was to be made there, and having thus impressed the enemy, he
was to leave a small guard, withdraw quietly, and march to Hanovertown
ford, where the real crossing was to be effected. Meanwhile Gregg marched
to Littlepage's crossing of the Pamunkey, with instructions to make feints in
the same manner as Torbert until after dark, when he was to retire
discreetly, leaving a small force to keep up the demonstration, and then
march rapidly to Hanovertown crossing, taking with him the pontoon-
bridge.
At the proper hour Russell took up the march and followed the cavalry.
The troops were in motion all night, undergoing the usual delays incident to
night marches, and, early on the morning of the 27th the crossing was
made, Custer's brigade of Torbert's division driving from the ford about one
hundred of the enemy's cavalry, and capturing between thirty and forty
prisoners. The remainder of Torbert's division followed this brigade and
advanced to Hanovertown, where General Gordon's brigade of Confederate
cavalry was met. Torbert attacked this force with Devin's brigade, while he
sent Custer to Hawe's Shop, from which point a road leading to the right
was taken that brought him in rear of the enemy's cavalry; when the

Confederates discovered this manoeuvre, they retired in the direction of
Hanover Court House. Pursuit continued as far as a little stream called
Crump's Creek, and here Torbert was halted, Gregg moving up on his line
meanwhile, and Russell encamping near the crossing of the river. This
completed our task of gaining a foothold south of the Pamunkey, and on the
28th the main army crossed unharassed and took up a position behind my
line, extending south from the river, with the Sixth Corps on the right across
the Hanover Court House road at Crump's Creek, the Second Corps on the
left of the Sixth, and the Fifth Corps about two miles in front of
Hanovertown, its left extending to the Tolopotomy.
There was now much uncertainty in General Grant's mind as to the
enemy's whereabouts, and there were received daily the most conflicting
statements as to the nature of Lee's movements. It became necessary,
therefore, to find out by an actual demonstration what Lee was doing, and I
was required to reconnoitre in the direction of Mechanicsville. For this
purpose I moved Gregg's division out toward this town by way of Hawe's
Shop, and when it had gone about three-fourths of a mile beyond the Shop
the enemy's cavalry was discovered dismounted and disposed behind a
temporary breastwork of rails and logs.
This was the first occasion on which, since the battle of Yellow Tavern,
the Confederate troopers had confronted us in large numbers, their mounted
operations, like ours, having been dependent more or less on the conditions
that grew out of the movements in which Lee's infantry had been engaged
since the 14th of May.
On that date General Lee had foreshadowed his intention of using his
cavalry in connection with the manoeuvres of his infantry by issuing an
order himself, now that Stuart was dead, directing that the "three divisions
of cavalry serving with the army [Lee's] will constitute separate commands,
and will report directly to and receive orders from the headquarters of the
army." The order indicates that since Stuart's death the Confederate cavalry
had been re-organized into three divisions, that were commanded
respectively by General Wade Hampton, General Fitzhugh Lee, and General
W. H. F. Lee, the additional division organization undoubtedly growing out
of the fact, that General M. C. Butler's brigade of about four thousand men
had joined recently from South Carolina.

When this force developed in Gregg's front, he attacked the moment his
troops could be dismounted; and the contest became one of exceeding
stubborness, for he found confronting him Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's
divisions, supported by what we then supposed to be a brigade of infantry,
but which, it has since been ascertained, was Butler's brigade of mounted
troops; part of them armed with long-range rifles. The contest between the
opposing forces was of the severest character and continued till late in the
evening. The varying phases of the fight prompted me to reinforce Gregg as
much as possible, so I directed Custer's brigade to report to him, sending,
meanwhile, for the other two brigades of Torbert, but these were not
available at the time—on account of delays which occurred in relieving
them from the line at Crump's Creek—and did not get up till the fight was
over. As soon as Custer joined him, Gregg vigorously assaulted the
Confederate position along his whole front; and notwithstanding the long-
range rifles of the South Carolinians, who were engaging in their first
severe combat it appears, and fought most desperately, he penetrated their
barricades at several points.
The most determined and obstinate efforts for success were now made on
both sides, as the position at Hawe's Shop had become of very great
importance on account of the designs of both Lee and Grant. Lee wished to
hold this ground while he manoeuvred his army to the line of the
Tolopotomy, where he could cover the roads to Richmond, while Grant,
though first sending me out merely to discover by a strong reconnoissance
the movements of the enemy, saw the value of the place to cover his new
base at the White House, and also to give us possession of a direct road to
Cold Harbor. Hawe's Shop remained in our possession finally, for late in the
evening Custer's brigade was dismounted and formed in close column in
rear of Gregg, and while it assaulted through an opening near the centre of
his line, the other two brigades advanced and carried the temporary works.
The enemy's dead and many of his wounded fell into our hands; also a
considerable number of prisoners, from whom we learned that Longstreet's
and Ewell's corps were but four miles to the rear.
The battle was a decidedly severe one, the loss on each side being heavy
in proportion to the number of troops engaged. This fight took place almost
immediately in front of our infantry, which, during the latter part of the
contest, was busily occupied in throwing up intrenchments. Late in the
afternoon I reported to General Meade the presence of the enemy's infantry,

and likewise that Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's divisions were in my front
also, and asked, at the same time; that some of our infantry, which was near
at hand, be sent to my assistance. I could not convince Meade that anything
but the enemy's horse was fighting us, however, and he declined to push out
the foot-troops, who were much wearied by night marches. It has been
ascertained since that Meade's conclusions were correct in so far as they
related to the enemy's infantry; but the five cavalry brigades far
outnumbered my three, and it is to be regretted that so much was risked in
holding a point that commanded the roads to Cold Harbor and Meadow
bridge, when there was at hand a preponderating number of Union troops
which might have been put into action. However, Gregg's division and
Custer's brigade were equal to the situation, all unaided as they were till
dark, when Torbert and Merritt came on the ground. The contest not only
gave us the crossroads, but also removed our uncertainty regarding Lee's
movements, clearly demonstrating that his army was retiring by its right
flank, so that it might continue to interpose between Grant and the James
River; as well as cover the direct route to Richmond.
General Lee reported this battle to his Government as a Confederate
victory, but his despatch was sent early in the day, long before the fight
ended, and evidently he could not have known the final result when he
made the announcement, for the fight lasted until dark. After dark, our own
and the Confederate dead having been buried, I withdrew, and moving to
the rear of our infantry, marched all night and till I reached the vicinity of
Old Church, where I had been instructed to keep a vigilant watch on the
enemy with Gregg's and Torbert's divisions. As soon as I had taken position
at Old Church my pickets were pushed out in the direction of Cold Harbor,
and the fact that the enemy was holding that point in some force was clearly
ascertained. But our occupation of Cold Harbor was of the utmost
importance; indeed, it was absolutely necessary that we should possess it, to
secure our communications with the White House, as well as to cover the
extension of our line to the left toward the James River. Roads from
Bethesda Church, Old Church, and the White House centred at Cold
Harbor, and from there many roads diverged also toward different crossings
of the Chickahominy, which were indispensable to us.
The enemy too realized the importance of the place, for as soon as he
found himself compelled to take up the line of the Tolopotomy he threw a
body of troops into Cold Harbor by forced marches, and followed it up by

pushing a part of this force out on the Old Church road as far as Matadequin
Creek, where he established a line of battle, arranging the front of it parallel
to the road along the south bank of the Pamunkey; this for the purpose of
endangering our trains as they moved back and forth between the army and
the White House.
Meanwhile I had occupied Old Church and pushed pickets down toward
Cold Harbor. The outposts struck each other just north of Matadequin
Creek, and a spirited fight immediately took place. At first our pickets were
sorely pressed, but Torbert, who was already preparing to make a
reconnoissance, lost no time in reinforcing them on the north side of the
creek with Devin's brigade. The fight then became general, both sides,
dismounted, stubbornly contesting the ground. Of the Confederates,
General Butler's South Carolinians bore the brunt of the fight, and, strongly
posted as they were on the south bank of the creek, held their ground with
the same obstinacy they had previously shown at Hawe's Shop. Finally,
however, Torbert threw Merritt's and Custer's brigades into the action, and
the enemy retired, we pursuing to within a mile and a half of Cold Harbor
and capturing a number of prisoners. Gregg's division took no part in the
actual fighting, but remained near Old Church observing the roads on
Torberts flanks, one leading toward Bethesda Church on his right, the other
to his left in the direction of the White House. This latter road Gregg was
particularly instructed to keep open, so as to communicate with General W.
F. Smith, who was then debarking his corps at the White House, and on the
morning of the 31st this general's advance was covered by a brigade which
Gregg had sent him for the purpose.
Torbert having pursued toward Cold Harbor the troops he fought at
Matadequin Creek, had taken up a position about a mile and a half from that
place, on the Old Church road. The morning of the 31st I visited him to
arrange for his further advance, intending thus to anticipate an expected
attack from Fitzhugh Lee, who was being reinforced by infantry. I met
Torbert at Custer's headquarters, and found that the two had already been
talking over a scheme to capture Cold Harbor, and when their plan was laid
before me it appeared so plainly feasible that I fully endorsed it, at once
giving directions for its immediate execution, and ordering Gregg to come
forward to Torbert's support with such troops as he could spare from the
duty with which he had been charged.