An Artilleryman's Diary Part 36

Whiteside, Tenn., Sat.u.r.day, Nov. 12. Another night spent in our narrow bed, but slept comfortable. Staid in town till 1 P. M. Strolled over the town which showed evidence on every side of the great scale upon which this war is conducted. A wagon bridge has been built across the Tennessee here, near where we were hid from Bragg about a year ago, a beautiful and expensive piece of mechanism.

D. J. D. and myself visited our old teacher, Professor, now Lieutenant Silsby. Found him looking well and on duty as officer of the day. His regimentals became him well. He received us cordially, but we could not stay long. Ah, what different circ.u.mstances did we now meet, to those which existed three years ago. The book and slate are laid aside, and alas! almost forgotten, the bugle and sabre followed instead.

One o'clock we started on a heavily-loaded train, four more following.

Rounded the august point of Lookout in great haste, when we had about ten miles of up-grade. Our engine was too weak for the load, often like an overloaded team refused to try and stopped still, most of the time going no faster than we would go afoot. Reached Whiteside 4 P. M. where we had to lie over till morning, a train ahead of us having run off the track on the bridge over Running Waters, one hundred thirty feet high. A pa.s.senger car and hospital car were saved as by a miracle from going over into the abyss. The sight of a car loaded with men and women leaning over the terrible gulf was terrible. Working train sent for from Chattanooga to repair damages. Whiteside was a small station in a mountain gorge, garrisoned by the st.u.r.dy Scandinavians of the 15th Wisconsin. Two companies of them being stationed in a block house on top of the highest peak to be seen. They occupy a decidedly airy situation.

Suffered considerably from the cold.

En route, Sunday, Nov. 13. Griff and I made our bed in the open air, and slept as of old while on the march, warm and cozy though our blankets in the morning were stiff with frost. Had to wait till noon for the wreckers to get the track in repair, when we started on our way rejoicing, as it was very cold. Pa.s.sed through Bridgeport without stopping. Waited at Stevenson thirty minutes, when we took the Nashville Railroad, 112 miles long. This route being new to me, consequently more interesting. The first thirty miles was through a low swampy country with but few traces of civilization. A few station houses, lightly garrisoned, until we neared the c.u.mberland Range, which we had to cross.

Here on a sidetrack we found small coal-burning engines ready to help us over, small driving wheels but capable of great power. Coupled on behind us with vigorous puffs and dense clouds of coal smoke. It propelled us up a grade of two hundred feet to a mile, through cuts in the solid rock fifty feet high, now running along a narrow shelf hewed in the side of an ancient slope with a deep canon below us and the eternal rocks above us. Finally we entered the tunnel, three-fourths of a mile long, drilled in solid rock. Three ventilating shafts run down from above. We could see nothing, the hot smoky air tending to warm our chilled systems.

Daylight found us on the west side of the mountain, having pa.s.sed over one of the greatest pieces of internal improvement I have ever seen, North or South. Darkness was fast approaching, and we once more crawled into our den to seek rest and warmth in broken slumbers, regretting that it was not yet daylight so I could see the remainder of the line which was wrenched from traitors' hands by the gallant Rosecrans.

Nashville, Tenn., Monday, Nov. 14. Morning found us on a sidetrack in Nashville, which we reached 4 A. M. Most of the boys were soon off in town, and as every one's pockets were well filled, the morning was spent feeding at saloons, restaurants, etc., too many indulging too freely in the debasing cup. As we expected to unload soon, I did not leave till after dinner, when I with Griff strolled through town, seeing sights.

Nashville is a busy business mart. Mounted the dome of the state capitol. The scene from it is most picturesque, nearly three hundred feet above the silverlike c.u.mberland, which winds nearly around the city. This is spread over a large tract of ground, five miles long from north to south.

4 P. M. We were drawn up to a platform and by night we were unloaded.

Made our beds down as best we could, and retired neath a frowning sky which I fear will drench us before morning.

[Sidenote: 1864 Stringent Orders]

Nashville, Tuesday, Nov. 15. It was not yet midnight when the rains fell, and the winds blew. By 2 A. M. I was thoroughly soaked so I had to get up and the police admitted us into the depot. Read from Scott's _Ivanhoe_ till morning by gaslight, rain still falling in torrents.

After breakfast six post teams came to take us to camp, Cogswell's horses to take our battery. About noon we were left in an open field on a pretty knoll two miles west of town, with instructions not to touch board, rail or tree under penalty of court-martial. Here we were this cold morning in a muddy field with nothing to strike a light or hardly stake a tent. This was decidedly tough for "old sogers" who had been used to draw comfort from blazing rail heaps in times like this. But they say it is loyal Tennessee, and property must be respected. Very well. But they should provide something for our comfort, if we are privates. We stretched our tents, got a cold grub, no fire to cook coffee. Late in the evening Sergeant Malish came with two loads of cord wood. We drew it at the rate of 1/6 cord to a man per month.

Nashville, Wednesday, Nov. 16. Slept warm in our wedge tents. One of the batteries that camped here, gone up the c.u.mberland River with two weeks'

rations to get out lumber for quarters. We would have gone had we had a commissioned officer to take charge of us. On detail this morning.

Carried a load of halters to town to draw mules but the "something"

failed as usual, and I had to carry back my load. Found mail in camp, a goodly share for me which added greatly to my comfort. Tried to write a hastily written letter home, but my fingers were cold and stiff. Drew soft bread.

Nashville, Thursday, Nov. 17. Another cold, wet day. On guard. Rain fell incessantly. My shoes being bad, feet wet all day. Sergeant Keeler and boys that were left to bring horses up arrived. Turned over the plugs at Chattanooga. ---- left the Battery at Whiteside. Went on to Huntsville to visit his friends there. Returned and was immediately put under arrest. Will probably be court-martialed. Batteries were still being brought up, some 165 batteries camped here belonging to the Army of Tennessee. Major Powell in charge. Detail out this afternoon staking out the ground to align the batteries.

[Sidenote: 1864 Unnecessary Hardships]

Nashville, Friday, Nov. 18. Lay abed this morning as long as possible.

Last night was a miserable night to stand guard. Cold rain fell very heavily all the time I was out, feet perfectly wet, in consequence of which I caught a large amount of cold. Settled in my head in the shape of catarrh. To-day was not an exception to the general rule, so of course it rained in doors as well as out, mud unfathomable on all sides, and we spent the day in the most comical manner. Cheerfulness like a bright angel, made us forget the disagreeable, and we sung (or rather bawled), read, talked, laughed and scuffled by turns with an occasional recess "to rake shoulder straps" in general. And I don't think it is misplaced. Here we are in Nashville where an abundance of everything is to be had. Thousands of feet of government lumber lying in the pile, thousands more of employees at work daily in getting out more, besides hundreds of vacant houses crumbling to ruin untenanted and unowned, which we would soon be able to convert into comfortable quarters. But no, the officers will not permit it, and here we are left to the inclemencies of the wet season, on the wet ground, wood to warm our chilled limbs even refused us. I trust that my patriotism is now as bright as ever, and I am willing and ready to undergo any hardships for the sake of my bleeding and torn country, but this is unnecessary and too much. They (the officers) are cozily quartered with some private family, toast their feet and drink their wines without ever a thought of us, who are engaged in a common cause with them. The world will do homage to them, the future historian may paint in glowing pictures their career, but the private soldier that bears uncomplainingly these abuses, and seeks naught but to do his duty, deserves as rich a reward; aye, and the G.o.d of Justice will reward each according to his merit.

Received a mail which was duly appreciated.

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Nov. 19. I have no change to record in weather or otherwise. In the afternoon the guns were moved by the adjutant of the Brigade into proper intervals, bringing ours into a low, muddy ravine.

Our quarters will have to go in the rear, but we await a pleasant day.

Nashville, Sunday, Nov. 20. Happy to inform you, dear Journal, that it did not rain a great deal to-day, but no ray of sunshine appeared to warm our tents or dry our clothes. The Major seems to be very partial to us, for yesterday he called for a detail to put up headquarters tents.

To-day again he has fifteen men hauling stone, etc. to build chimneys. I wish he would like some other Battery as well. In the evening a few scarlet tints could be seen on the western horizon, and our prophets predict a pleasant day to-morrow. I sincerely hope it will be so.

Received a few papers by mail, no letters.

Nashville, Monday, Nov. 21. This morning was bright and clear, but sunshine still forbidden us. Griff, G. M. S. and myself, wishing to make a few purchases, obtained permission to go to town. Griff and I sat for photo pictures, and sent them to Beniczky, New York, for photos.

Commenced snowing 10 A. M. but the wind blew it all away. Kept growing colder and colder. Returned to camp 2 P. M. Found the boys in a shivering condition. Managed to keep comfortable by means of an iron skillet filled with coals. Banked our tent up as close as possible, and prepared for a severe night. Captain Hood arrived and takes command of the Battery. His presence is unnoticed.

Nashville, Tuesday, Nov. 22. Last night was a very severe night. Many suffered severely from cold. We slept tolerably warm with the exception of feet. Ground is all hard. Water frozen four inches thick. The day pa.s.sed, such a day as that which makes people draw close around the family stove, in the warm rooms of our houses. 'Tis not strange then that every means of warmth was resorted to. Many a fellow lay wrapped up in his blankets all day, while we were huddled around our skillet of coals, replenished as often as practicable from the few heaps of fire out doors (the wood being very scarce). Dan on guard. Clothing arrived.

I drew a pair of boots. Boys went strong on overcoats. I would draw one if there was one to be had. Many of them bought sheet iron stoves in town, paying from six to ten dollars. We must get one to-morrow if possible. Strict orders issued to us from Major * * * headed Camp Barry.

None allowed to go to town without his pa.s.s. Four roll calls a day.

Nashville, Wednesday, Nov. 23. Some warmer to-day and groups could be seen about noon sunning themselves outside. Dan and Griff went to town early, and returned with a small sheet iron stove, about the size of an inverted camp kettle, $5.00 worth. But it is a prodigy of comfort. In ten minutes we had it blazing and the tent so warm as to be uncomfortable. About dusk a cedar rail mysteriously found its way into our tent, and was speedily converted into wood, n.o.body knows how, of course.

[Sidenote: 1864 Feeding an Army]

Nashville, Thursday, Nov. 24. A still cold night, froze very hard this morning. I think it is ten degrees below zero. Boys skating on ponds, like old times. Detailed early to go after beef. Had to go and obtain post team, then to the slaughter yard located on the c.u.mberland River.

When we reached it we found there was a string of wagons twenty rods long ahead of us, and we had to wait our turn, which did not come before 3 P. M. and we had a good chance to see the magnitude of the work carried on here daily. About one hundred eighty two butchers at work all the time, fifty-four beeves killed before 12 M. An animal would be knocked down and nearly skinned before he was dead, it being weighed out as fast as killed. One hundred thousand rations issued by the government daily. Reached camp in time to eat a good supper and to find no mail for me.

An opportunity offered Griff and me to attend the theatre where the celebrated Alice Kingsbury (Maggie Mitch.e.l.l) played the part of "Cricket" in the drama called _Fanchon_. To me it was highly interesting to observe how near art could approach nature. Stage scenery was almost life-like, the gra.s.sy woods, shady woodland and bubbling brook, all seemed more real than I could believe possible. As for Alice, she was the princ.i.p.al actress for three hours, and well did she play her part as a poor befriended orphan and an accomplished lady. Anger, sorrow and love depicted with great truthfulness.

Nashville, Friday, Nov. 25. A very nice day. On guard once more. Battery C, 1st Missouri, struck their tents right in front of ours this afternoon. We cannot move camp to its proper place, because there are other batteries in the way. Was happy to meet Knapp and Burnham, once worthy members of the old 6th, in camp direct from Wisconsin. They came to work for the government. The greeting was like meeting family relatives.

Nashville, Sat.u.r.day, Nov. 26. Ah! it rains again. Continued to do so nearly all day, but by means of our stove and good cheer we pa.s.sed the day very pleasantly, writing and reading. 3 P. M. mail arrived. None for me. Milton received notice that his folks at home had sent him a Thanksgiving dinner per express. He obtained permission to go to town, and see if it had arrived. I went along. Roads very muddy, but we found it not. To-night a certain number of cedar rails found their way into our stove very mysteriously. Of course it was honest.

Nashville, Sunday, Nov. 27. Very wet but did not rain much. Griff, Milt and myself went to church, not acquainted with any one. Curiosity led us into the Catholic Church, it being the first time I was ever in such, and the mode of worshipping struck me very forcibly.

Returned to camp to find tent struck and moved behind the guns. Worked in the evening, the remainder of the Sabbath day, ditching camp, etc. By night we were in shape, and camp is in very pretty shape, each platoon in line, sections facing, but the ground is very low for wet weather.

What a vast difference between this, and the Sunday they have spent at home. Are we, the privates, held accountable for this disregard for the holy Sabbath day?

Nashville, Monday, Nov. 28. A pleasant day. Company turned out this morning. Carried down the army's boxes and wood to our new camp. Hard work, but it dispensed with three guards. Wrote letter in the afternoon and commenced reading _Jane Eyre_. A beautiful silk flag was to be hoisted in our camp that we have bought by subscription for $75.00. May its folds ever wave over us in victory. Hood with 30,000 rebels reported moving on this place, and Thomas is below him. Gen. A. J. Smith is in town. His command, 16th Army Corps, is arriving from Missouri.

Nashville, Tuesday, Nov. 29. An unpleasant day. Camp very quiet, the usual number going to town on their pa.s.ses. Camp policed and looks nice.

Detail gone out to fix up camp of the 10th Ohio. This is a good omen, as their men will likely bring us lumber to pay for it. Captain Hood was mustered this morning, now is in command of Battery, with straps on.

Read all the forenoon and wrote to sister Ellen. Mail came in and I received one from Jane, E. C., and John; papers from T. L. What kind of a being would I be were it not for these heavenly messengers from home.

It is they that give courage in danger, cheerfulness in camp, and happy dreams which I expect to-night.

[Sidenote: 1864 Awaiting Hood]

Nashville, Wednesday, Nov. 30. 8 A. M. In position awaiting Hood.

Unexpectedly were ordered last night at 7 P. M. to pack up blankets and knapsacks, ready to move at a moment's warning. Playfully did we proceed to obey, thinking we would not move, only a "scare as usual". But immediately we were ordered to strike tents and a host of mules with their dusky drivers came, and we thought it was big enough to move us this time. The other batteries were under similar orders. The long-eared animals were fastened on. Our tents and "dear little stoves"