Recollections of the Civil War — Chattanooga and Missionary Ridge

As soon as we felt reasonably sure that Chattanooga could hold out until re-enforcements came, the disaster of the 20th of September became the absorbing topic of conversation in the Army of the Cumberland.

At headquarters, in camp, in the street, on the fortifications, officers and soldiers and citizens wrangled over the reasons for the loss of the day.

By the end of the first week after the disaster a serious fermentation reigned in the Twentieth and Twenty-first Army Corps, and, indeed, throughout the whole army, growing out of events connected with the battle.

There was at once a manifest disposition to hold McCook and Crittenden, the commanders of the two corps, responsible, because they had left the field of battle amid the rout of the right wing and made their way to Chattanooga.

[D] It was not generally understood or appreciated at that time that, because of Thomas's repeated calls for aid and Rosecrans's consequent alarm for his left, Crittenden had been stripped of all his troops and had no infantry whatever left to command, and that McCook's lines also had been reduced to a fragment by similar orders from Rosecrans and by fighting.

A strong opposition to both sprang up, which my telegrams to Mr. Stanton immediately after the battle fully reflect.

The generals of division and of brigade felt the situation deeply, and said that they could no longer serve under such superiors, and that, if this was required of them, they must resign.

This feeling was universal among them, including men like Major-Generals Palmer and Sheridan and Brigadier-Generals Wood, Johnson, and Hazen.

The feeling of these officers did not seem in the least to partake of a mutinous or disorderly character; it was rather conscientious unwillingness to risk their men and the country's cause in hands which they thought to be unsafe.

No formal representation of this unwillingness was made to Rosecrans, but he was made aware of the state of things by private conversations with several of the parties.

The defects of his character complicated the difficulty.

He abounded in friendliness and approbativeness, and was greatly lacking in firmness and steadiness of will.

In short, he was a temporizing man; he dreaded so heavy an alternative as was now presented, and hated to break with McCook and Crittenden.

Besides, there was a more serious obstacle to Rosecrans's acting decisively in the fact that if Crittenden and McCook had gone to Chattanooga, with the sound of artillery in their ears, from that glorious field where Thomas and Granger were saving their army and their country's honor, he had gone to Chattanooga also.

It might be said in his excuse that, under the circumstances of the sudden rout, it was perfectly proper for the commanding general to go to the rear to prepare the next line of defense.

Still, Rosecrans felt that that excuse could not entirely clear him either in his own eyes or in those of the army.

In fact, it was perfectly plain that, while the subordinate commanders would not resign if he was retained in the chief command, as I believe they certainly would have done if McCook and Crittenden had not been relieved, their respect for Rosecrans as a general had received an irreparable blow.

The dissatisfaction with Rosecrans seemed to me to put the army into a very dangerous condition, and, in writing to Mr. Stanton on September 27th, I said that if it was decided to change the chief commander I would suggest that some Western commander of high rank and great prestige, like Grant, would be preferable as Rosecrans's successor to one who had hitherto commanded in the East alone.

The army, however, had its own candidate for Rosecrans's post.

General Thomas had risen to the highest point in their esteem, as he had in that of every one who witnessed his conduct on that unfortunate and glorious day, and I saw that, should there be a change in the chief command, there was no other man whose appointment would be so welcome.

I

earnestly recommended Mr. Stanton that in event of a change in the chief command Thomas's merits be considered.

He was certainly an officer of the very highest qualities, soldierly and personally.

He was a man of the greatest dignity of character.

He had more the character of George Washington than any other man I ever knew.

At the same time he was a delightful man to be with; there was no artificial dignity about Thomas.

He was a West Point graduate, and very well educated.

He was very set in his opinions, yet he was not impatient with anybody--a noble character.

In reply to my recommendation of Thomas, I received a telegram from the Secretary of War, saying: "I wish you to go directly to see General Thomas, and say to him that his services, his abilities, his character, his unselfishness, have always been most cordially appreciated by me, and that it is not my fault that he has not long since had command of an independent army."

Accordingly, I went at once over to General Thomas's headquarters.

I

remember that I got there just after they had finished dinner; the table was not cleared off, but there was nobody in the dining room.

When General Thomas came in, I read to him the telegram from the Secretary.

He was too much affected by it to reply immediately.

After a moment he said: "Mr. Dana, I wish you would say to the Secretary of War that I am greatly affected by this expression of his confidence; that I should have long since liked to have had an independent command, but what I should have desired would have been the command of an army that I could myself have organized, disciplined, distributed, and combined.

I wish you would add also that I would not like to take the command of an army where I should be exposed to the imputation of having intrigued or of having exercised any effort to supplant my previous commander."

This was on October 4th.

Four days later General Thomas sent a confidential friend to me, saying rumors had come to him that he was to be put in Rosecrans's place; that, while he would gladly accept any other command to which Mr. Stanton should see fit to assign him, he could not consent to become the successor of General Rosecrans.

He would not do anything to give countenance to the suspicion that he had intrigued against his commander's interest.

He declared that he had perfect confidence in the fidelity and capacity of General Rosecrans.

The first change in the Army of the Cumberland was an order from Washington consolidating the Twentieth and Twenty-first Corps.

The news reached Chattanooga on October 5th in a Nashville newspaper, and, not having been previously promulgated, it caused a sensation.

Crittenden was much excited, and said that, as the Government no longer required his services, he would resign; at any rate, he would not hibernate like others, drawing pay and doing no work.

McCook took it easily.

The consolidation of the two corps was generally well received, and, as it was to be followed by a general reorganization of the army, it seemed as if the most happy consequences would be produced.

The only serious difficulty which followed the change was that the men in the consolidated corps were troubled by letters from home, showing that their friends regarded a consolidation as a token of disgrace and punishment.

Although the reorganization of the army was going on, there was no real change in our situation, and by the middle of October it began to look as if we were in a helpless and precarious position.

No re-enforcements had yet reached us, the enemy was growing stronger every day, and, worse still, we were threatened with starvation.

Rosecrans's error in abandoning Lookout Mountain to the enemy on September 24th was now apparent.

Our supplies came by rail from Nashville to Bridgeport; but the enemy controlled the south shore of the Tennessee between us and Bridgeport, and thus prevented our rebuilding the railroad from Bridgeport to Chattanooga; with their shore batteries they stopped the use of our steamboats.

They even made the road on the north shore impassable, the sharpshooters on the south bank being able to pick off our men on the north.

The forage and supplies which we had drawn from the country within our reach were now exhausted, and we were dependent upon what could be got to us over the roads north of the river.

These were not only disturbed by the enemy, but were so bad in places that the mud was up to the horses' bellies.

The animals themselves had become too weak to haul the empty train up the mountain, while many had died of starvation.

On October 15th the troops were on half rations, and officers as they went about where the men were working on the fortifications frequently heard the cry of "Crackers!"

In the midst of these difficulties General Rosecrans seemed to be insensible to the impending danger; he dawdled with trifles in a manner which scarcely can be imagined.

With plenty of zealous and energetic officers ready to do whatever needed to be done, precious time was lost because our dazed and mazy commander could not perceive the catastrophe that was close upon us, nor fix his mind upon the means of preventing it.

I never saw anything which seemed so lamentable and hopeless.

Our animals were starving, the men had starvation before them, and the enemy was bound soon to make desperate efforts to dislodge us.

Yet the commanding general devoted that part of the time which was not employed in pleasant gossip to the composition of a long report to prove that the Government was to blame for his failure on the 20th.

While few persons exhibited more estimable social qualities, I have never seen a public man possessing talent with less administrative power, less clearness and steadiness in difficulty, and greater practical incapacity than General Rosecrans.

He had inventive fertility and knowledge, but he had no strength of will and no concentration of purpose.

His mind scattered; there was no system in the use of his busy days and restless nights, no courage against individuals in his composition, and, with great love of command, he was a feeble commander.

He was conscientious and honest, just as he was imperious and disputatious; always with a stray vein of caprice and an overweening passion for the approbation of his personal friends and the public outside.

Although the army had been reorganized as a result of the consolidation of the Twentieth and Twenty-first Corps, it was still inefficient and its discipline defective.

The former condition proceeded from the fact that General Rosecrans insisted on directing personally every department, and kept every one waiting and uncertain till he himself could directly supervise every operation.

The latter proceeded from his utter lack of firmness, his passion for universal applause, and his incapacity to hurt any man's feelings by just severity.

My opinion of Rosecrans and my fears that the army would soon be driven from Chattanooga by starvation, if not by the Confederates, I had reiterated in my letters to Mr. Stanton.

On the morning of October 19th I received a dispatch from Mr. Stanton, sent from Washington on October 16th, asking me to meet him that day at the Gait House in Louisville.

I

wired him that, unless he ordered to the contrary, Rosecrans would retreat at once from Chattanooga, and then I started for Louisville.

It was a hard trip by horseback over Walden's Ridge and through Jasper to Bridgeport, and the roads were not altogether safe.

Ten days before this, in riding along the edge of a bank near the river shore, the earth had given way under my horse's hind feet, and he and I had been tumbled together down a bank, about fourteen feet high; we rolled over each other in the sand at the bottom.

I got off with no worse injury than a bruise of my left shoulder and a slight crack on the back of my head from the horse's hind foot, which made the blood run a little.

The roads over Walden Ridge and along the river were even worse now than when I got my tumble, and, besides, they were filled with wagons trying to get supplies to Chattanooga.

It took at that time ten days for wagon teams to go from Stevenson, where we had a depot, to Chattanooga.

Though subsistence stores were so nearly exhausted, the wagons were compelled to throw overboard portions of their precious cargo in order to get through.

The returning trains were blockaded.

On the 17th of October five hundred teams were halted between the mountain and the river without forage for the animals, and unable to move in any direction;

the whole road was strewn with dead animals.

The railway from Bridgeport to Nashville was not much more comfortable or safer than the road.

Early in the month I had gone to Nashville on business, and had come back in a tremendous storm in a train of eighteen cars crowded with soldiers, and was twenty-six hours on the road instead of ten.

On the present trip, however, I got along very well until within about eight miles from Nashville, when our train narrowly escaped destruction.

A tie had been inserted in a cattle guard to throw the train down an embankment, but it had been calculated for a train going south, so that ours simply broke it off.

From what we learned afterward, we thought it was intended for a train on which it was supposed General Grant was going to Bridgeport.

My train was bound through to Louisville.

Indeed, I think there was no one with me except the train hands and the engineer.

We reached Nashville about ten o'clock on the night of October 20th, and there were halted.

Directly there came in an officer--I think it was Lieutenant-Colonel Bowers, of General Grant's staff--who said: "General Grant wants to see you."

This was the first that I knew Grant was in Tennessee.

I got out of my train and went over to his.

I hadn't seen him since we parted at Vicksburg.

"I am going to interfere with your journey, Mr. Dana," he said as soon as I came in.

"I have got the Secretary's permission to take you back with me to Chattanooga.

I want you to dismiss your train and get in mine; we will give you comfortable quarters."

"General," I said, "did you ask the Secretary to let me go back with you?"

"I did," he said; "I wanted to have you."

So, of course, I went.

On the way down he told me that he had been appointed to the command of the "Military Division of the Mississippi," with permission to leave Rosecrans in command of the Department of the Cumberland or to assign Thomas in his place.

He had done the latter, he said, and had telegraphed Thomas to take charge of the army the night after Stanton, at Louisville, had received my dispatch of the 19th saying Rosecrans would retreat from Chattanooga unless ordered to remain.

Rosecrans was assigned to the Department of the Missouri, with headquarters at St. Louis.

FOOTNOTE:

[D] The feeling of the army toward McCook and Crittenden was afterward greatly modified.

A court of inquiry examined their cases, and in February, 1864, gave its final finding and opinion.

McCook it relieved entirely from responsibility for the reverse of September 20th, declaring that the small force at his disposal was inadequate to defend, against greatly superior numbers, the long line he had taken under instructions, and adding that, after the line was broken, he had done everything he could to rally and hold his troops, giving the necessary orders to his subordinates.

General Crittenden's conduct, the court likewise declared, showed no cause for censure, and he was in no way responsible for the disaster to the right wing.

CHAPTER X. CHATTANOOGA AND MISSIONARY RIDGE.

Thomas succeeds Rosecrans in the Army of the Cumberland--Grant supreme at Chattanooga--A visit to the army at Knoxville--A Tennessee Unionist's family--Impressions of Burnside--Grant against Bragg at Chattanooga--The most spectacular fighting of the war--Watching the first day's battle--With Sherman the second day--The moonlight fight on Lookout Mountain--Sheridan's whisky flask--The third day's victory and the glorious spectacle it afforded--The relief of General Burnside.

With Grant I left Nashville for the front on the morning of the 21st.

We arrived safe in Bridgeport in the evening.

The next morning, October 22d, we left on horseback for Chattanooga by way of Jasper and Walden's Ridge.

The roads were in such a condition that it was impossible for Grant, who was on crutches from an injury to his leg received by the fall of a horse in New Orleans some time before, to make the whole distance of fifty-five miles in one day, so I pushed on ahead, running the rebel picket lines, and reaching Chattanooga in the evening in company with Colonel Wilson, Grant's inspector general.

The next morning I went to see General Thomas; it was not an official visit, but a friendly one, such a visit as I very often made on the generals.

When we had shaken hands, he said: "Mr. Dana, you have got me this time; but there is nothing for a man to do in such a case as this but to obey orders."

This was in allusion to his assignment to the command of the Army of the Cumberland.

The change in command was received with satisfaction by all intelligent officers, so far as I could ascertain, though, of course, Rosecrans had many friends who were unable to conceive why he was relieved.

They reported that he was to be put in command of the Army of the Potomac.

The change at headquarters was already strikingly perceptible, order prevailing instead of universal chaos.

On the evening of the 23d Grant arrived, as I stated in my dispatch to Mr. Stanton, "wet, dirty, and well."

The next morning he was out with Thomas and Smith to reconnoiter a position which the latter general had discovered at the mouth of Lookout Valley, which he believed, if it could be taken possession of and at the same time if Raccoon Mountain could be occupied, would give us Lookout Valley, and so enable us again to bring supplies up the river.

In preparation for this movement, Smith had been getting bridges ready to throw across the river at the mouth of the valley, and been fitting up a steamer to use for supplies when we should control the river.

The Confederates at that time were massed in Chattanooga Valley, south of Chattanooga.

They held Missionary Ridge to the east, and Lookout Mountain to the west.

They had troops in Lookout Valley also, and their pickets extended westward over Raccoon Mountain to the river.

South of the river, at Brown's Ferry, were several low mamelons.

Smith's idea was to surprise the Confederate pickets here at night and seize the position in time to unite with Hooker, who in the meantime should be ordered up from Bridgeport by way of Shellmound, Whiteside, and Wauhatchie.

That night Grant gave orders for the movement; in fact, he began it by sending Palmer's division across Walden's Ridge to Rankin's Ferry, where he was to cross and occupy Shellmound, thus guarding Hooker's rear.

Hooker he ordered to march from Bridgeport on the morning of the 26th.

I went to Bridgeport on the 25th to observe Hooker's movement, but found he was not there, and would not be ready to march the next morning as ordered.

Hooker came up from Stevenson to Bridgeport on the evening of the 26th.

He was in an unfortunate state of mind for one who had to co-operate--fault-finding and criticising.

No doubt it was true that the chaos of the Rosecrans administration was as bad as he described it to be, but he was quite as truculent toward the plan that he was now to execute as toward the impotence and confusion of the old _régime_.

By the next morning he was ready to start, and the troops moved out for Shellmound about half past six.

By half past four in the afternoon we arrived at Whiteside Valley; thence the march was directly to Wauhatchie.

Here there was an insignificant skirmish, which did not stop us long.

By the afternoon of the 28th we were at the mouth of the Lookout Valley, where we found that General Smith, by an operation whose brilliancy can not be exaggerated, had taken the mamelons south of the river.

The only serious opposition to our occupancy of the position came that night, but the enemy was successfully repulsed.

Our forces now held Lookout Valley and controlled the river from Brown's Ferry to Bridgeport.

The next day supplies were started up the river.

At first they came no farther than Kelley's Ferry, which was about ten miles from Chattanooga.

This was because the steamer at Bridgeport could not get through the Suck, an ugly pass in the mountains through which the river runs; but on the night of the 30th we succeeded in getting our steamer at Chattanooga past the pickets on Lookout Mountain and down to Brown's Ferry.

She could pass the Suck, and after that supplies came by water to Brown's Ferry.

Within a week after Grant's arrival we were receiving supplies daily.

There was no further danger of the Army of the Cumberland being starved out of Chattanooga.

The Confederates themselves at once recognized this, for a copy of the Atlanta Appeal of November 3d which reached me said that if we were not dislodged from Lookout Valley our possession of Chattanooga was secure for the winter.

It was now certain that we could hold Chattanooga; but until Sherman reached us we could do nothing against the enemy and nothing to relieve Burnside, who had been ordered to unite with Rosecrans in August, but had never got beyond Knoxville.

He was shut up there much in the same way as we were in Chattanooga, and it was certain that the Confederates were sending forces against him.

The day after Grant arrived we had good evidence that the Confederates were moving in large force to the northeastward of Chattanooga, for heavy railroad trains went out in that direction and light ones returned.

Deserters to us on the morning of the 25th reported that a large force was at Charleston, Tenn.

, and that fully five thousand mounted infantry had crossed the Tennessee River above Washington.

That night it was noticed that the pickets on Lookout Mountain, and even down into the valley on the Chattanooga side, were much diminished.

We judged from this that the enemy had withdrawn both from the top of the mountain and from the valley.

There were other rumors of their movements toward Burnside during the next few days, and on November 6th some definite information came through a deserter, a Northern man who had lived in Georgia before the war and had been forced into the service.

He reported that two divisions had moved up the Tennessee some time ago, and confirmed our suspicion that the troops had been withdrawn from Lookout Mountain.

He said it was well understood among the Confederates that these forces were going by way of Loudon to join those which had already gone up the river, to co-operate with a force of Lee's army in driving Burnside out of East Tennessee.

Grant's first move to meet this plan of the enemy was to direct Sherman, who had been trying to rebuild and hold the railroad from Memphis as he marched forward, to abandon this work and hasten up to Stevenson.

Grant then considered what movement could be made which would compel the enemy to recall the troops sent against Burnside.

Grant was so anxious to know the real condition of Burnside that he asked me to go to Knoxville and find out.

So on November 9th I started, accompanied by Colonel Wilson of Grant's staff.

The way in which such a trip as this of Wilson and mine was managed in those days is told in this letter to a child, written just before we left Chattanooga for Knoxville: I expect to go all the way on horseback, and it will take about five days.

About seventy horsemen will go along with their sabers and carbines to keep off the guerillas.

Our baggage we shall have carried on pack mules.

These are funny little rats of creatures, with the big panniers fastened to their sides to carry their burdens in.

I shall put my bed in one pannier and my carpet bag and India-rubber things in the other.

Colonel Wilson, who is to go with me, will have another mule for his traps, and a third will carry the bread and meat and coffee that we are to live on.

At night we shall halt in some nice shady nook where there is a spring, build a big roaring fire, cook our supper, spread our blankets on the ground, and sleep with our feet toward the fire, while half a dozen of the soldiers, with their guns ready loaded, watch all about to keep the rebels at a safe distance.

Then in the morning we shall first wake up, then wash our faces, get our breakfasts, and march on, like John Brown's soul, toward our destination.

How long I shall stay at Knoxville is uncertain, but I hope not very long--though it must be very charming in that country of mountains and rivers--and then I shall pray for orders that will take me home again.

We were not obliged to camp out every night on this trip.

One evening, just about supper time, we reached a large stone house, the home of a farmer.

The man, we found, was a strong Unionist, and he gave us a hearty invitation to occupy his premises.

Our escort took possession of the barn for sleeping, and we cooked our supper in the yard, the family lending us a table and sending us out fresh bread.

After supper Wilson and I were invited into the house, where the farmer listened eagerly to the news of the Union army.

There were two or three young and very pretty girls in the farmer's family, and while we talked they dipped snuff, a peculiar custom that I had seen but once or twice before.

We reached Knoxville on the 13th, and I at once went to headquarters to talk over the situation with Burnside.

This was the first time I had met that general.

He was rather a large man physically, about six feet tall, with a large face and a small head, and heavy side whiskers.

He was an energetic, decided man, frank, manly, and well educated.

He was a very showy officer--not that he _made_ any show; he was naturally that.

When he first talked with you, you would think he had a great deal more intelligence than he really possessed.

You had to know him some time before you really took his measure.

I found that Burnside's forces, something like thirty-three thousand men of all arms, were scattered all the way from Kentucky, by Cumberland Gap, down to Knoxville.

In and about Knoxville he had not concentrated more than twelve thousand to fourteen thousand men.

The town was fortified, though unable to resist an attack by a large force.

Up to this time Burnside and his army had really been very well off, for he had commanded a rich region behind Knoxville, and thence had drawn food and forage.

He even had about one hundred miles of railroad in active operation for foraging, and he had plenty of mills and workshops in the town which he could use.

After a detailed conversation with Burnside, I concluded that there was no reason to believe that any force had been sent from Lee's army to attack him on the northeast, as we had heard in Chattanooga, but that it was certain that Longstreet was approaching from Chattanooga with thirty thousand troops.

Burnside said that he would be unable long to resist such an attack, and that if Grant did not succeed in making a demonstration which would compel Longstreet to return he must retreat.

If compelled to retreat, he proposed, he said, to follow the line of Cumberland Gap, and to hold Morristown and Bean's Station.

At these points he would be secure against any force the enemy could bring against him; he would still be able to forage over a large extent of country on the south and east, he could prevent the repair of the railroads by the rebels, and he would still have an effective hold on East Tennessee.

A few hours after this talk with Burnside, about one o'clock in the morning of the 14th, a report reached Knoxville that completely upset his plan for retreating by Cumberland Gap.

This was the news that the enemy had commenced building bridges across the Tennessee near Loudon, only about twenty-five miles south of Knoxville.

Burnside immediately decided that he must retreat; and he actually dictated orders for drawing his whole army south of the Holston into Blount County, where all his communications would have been cut off, and where on his own estimate he could not have subsisted more than three weeks.

General Parke argued against this in vain, but finally Colonel Wilson overcame it by representing that Grant did not wish Burnside to include the capture of his entire army among the plans of his operations.

He then determined to retreat toward the gaps, after destroying the workshops and mills in Knoxville and on the line of his march.

Before we left, however, which was about six o'clock in the morning of the 14th, General Burnside had begun to feel that perhaps he might not be obliged to pass the mountains and abandon East Tennessee entirely.

He had even decided to send out a force to attack the enemy's advance.

When Wilson and I reached Lenoir's Station that morning on our way to Chattanooga, we discovered that the enemy's attack was not as imminent as Burnside feared.

Their bridges were not complete, and no artillery or cavalry had crossed.

From everything I could learn of their strength, in fact, it seemed to me that there was a reasonable probability that Burnside would be able to hold Knoxville until relieved by operations at Chattanooga.

We found that our departure from Knoxville had been none too soon.

So completely were the Confederates taking possession of the country between Knoxville and Chattanooga that had we delayed a single day we could have got out only through Cumberland Gap or that of Big Creek.

We were four days in returning, and Mr. Stanton became very uneasy, as I learned from this dispatch received soon after my return: WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D.

C.

, _November 19, 1863_.

Hon. C. A.

DANA, Chattanooga.

Your dispatches of yesterday are received.

I am rejoiced that you have got safely back.

My anxiety about you for several days had been very great.

Make your arrangements to remain in the field during the winter.

Continue your reports as frequently as possible, always noting the hour.

EDWIN M.

STANTON.

Colonel Wilson and I reached Chattanooga on November 17th.

As soon as I arrived I went to Grant's and Thomas's headquarters to find out the news.

There was the greatest hopefulness everywhere.

Sherman, they told me, had reached Bridgeport, and a plan for attacking Bragg's position was complete and its execution begun by moving a division of Sherman's army from Bridgeport to Trenton, where it ought to arrive that day, threatening the enemy by Stevens's Gap.

The remainder of that army was to move into Lookout Valley by way of Whiteside, extending its lines up the valley toward Trenton, as if to repeat the flanking movement of Rosecrans when he followed Bragg across the Tennessee.

Having drawn the enemy's attention to that quarter, Sherman was to disappear on the night of the 18th and encamp his forces behind the ridge of hills north of the Tennessee, opposite to Chattanooga, and keep them there out of sight of the enemy during the 19th.

That same night a bridge was to be thrown across the river just below the mouth of Chickamauga Creek, so that on Saturday morning, November 20th, Sherman's command would be across before daylight, if possible.

As soon as over he was to push for the head of Missionary Ridge, and there engage the enemy.

At the same time that Sherman's wing advanced, Granger, with about eighteen thousand men, was to move up on the left of the Chattanooga lines and engage the Confederate right with all possible vigor.

Hooker, who had been in the Lookout Valley ever since he joined the army in November, was to attack the head of Lookout Mountain simultaneously with Sherman's attack at the head of Missionary Ridge, and, if practicable, to carry the mountain.

It is almost never possible to execute a campaign as laid out, especially when it requires so many concerted movements as this one.

Thus, instead of all of Sherman's army crossing the Tennessee on the night of the 18th, and getting out of sight as expected behind the hills that night, a whole corps was left behind at daylight, and one division had to march down the valley on the morning of the 20th in full view of the enemy, who now understood, of course, that he was to be attacked.

Bragg evidently did not care to risk a battle, for he tried to alarm Grant that afternoon by sending a flag over, and with it a letter, saying, "As there may still be some non-combatants in Chattanooga, I deem it proper to notify you that prudence would dictate their early withdrawal."

Of course, we all knew this was a bluff.

On the morning of the 20th a heavy rain began, which lasted two days and made the roads so bad that Sherman's advance was almost stopped.

His march was still further retarded by a singular blunder which had been committed in moving his forces from Bridgeport.

Instead of moving all the troops and artillery first, the numerous trains which had been brought from West Tennessee were sent in front rather than in rear of each division.

Grant said the blunder was his; that he should have given Sherman explicit orders to leave his wagons behind; but no one was so much astonished as Grant on learning that they had not been left, even without such orders.

Owing to these unforeseen circumstances, Sherman's rear was so far behind on the morning of the 23d, three days after Grant had planned for the attack, that it was doubtful whether he could be ready to join the movement the next day, November 24th.

It was also feared that the enemy, who had seen the troops march through Lookout Valley and then disappear, might have discovered where they were concealed, and thus surmise our movements.

On account of these hitches in carrying out the operations as speedily as Grant had hoped, it was not until November 23d that the first encounter in the battle of Chattanooga occurred.

It was the beginning of the most spectacular military operations I ever saw--operations extending over three days and full of the most exciting incidents.

Our army lay to the south and east of the town of Chattanooga, the river being at our back.

Facing us, in a great half circle, and high above us on Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, were the Confederates.

Our problem was to drive them from these heights.

We had got our men well together, all the re-enforcements were up, and now we were to strike.

The first thing Grant tried to do was to clear out the Confederate lines which were nearest to ours on the plain south of Chattanooga, and to get hold of two bald knobs, or low hills, where Bragg's forces had their advance guard.

As the entire field where this attack was to be made was distinctly visible from one of our forts, I went there on the 23d with the generals to watch the operations.

The troops employed for the attack were under the immediate orders of Gordon Granger.

There were some capital officers under Granger, among them Sheridan, Hazen, and T. J.

Wood.

Just before one o'clock the men moved out of their intrenchments, and remained in line for three quarters of an hour in full view of the enemy.

The spectacle was one of singular magnificence.

Our point of view was Fort Wood.

Usually in a battle one sees only a little corner of what is going on, the movements near where you happen to be; but in the battle of Chattanooga we had the whole scene before us.

At last, everything being ready, Granger gave the order to advance, and three brigades of men pushed out simultaneously.

The troops advanced rapidly, with all the precision of a review, the flags flying and the bands playing.

The first sign of a battle one noticed was the fire spitting out of the rifles of the skirmishers.

The lines moved steadily along, not halting at all, the skirmishers all the time advancing in front, firing and receiving fire.

The first shot was fired at two o'clock, and in five minutes Hazen's skirmishers were briskly engaged, while the artillery of Forts Wood and Thomas was opening upon the rebel rifle-pits and camps behind the line of fighting.

The practice of our gunners was splendid, but it elicited no reply from the camps and batteries of the enemy, about a mile and three quarters distant; and it was soon evident that the Confederates had no heavy artillery, in that part of their lines at least.

Our troops, rapidly advancing toward the knobs upon which they were directed, occupied them at twenty minutes past two.

Ten minutes later Samuel Beatty, who commanded a brigade, driving forward across an open field, carried the rifle-pits in his front, the occupants fleeing as they fired their last volley; and Sheridan, moving through the forest which stretched before him, drove in the enemy's pickets.

Sheridan halted his advance, in obedience to orders, on reaching the rifle-pits, where the rebel force was waiting for his attack.

No such attack was made, however, the design being to secure only the height.

The entire movement was carried out in such an incredibly short time that at half past three I was able to send a telegram to Mr. Stanton describing the victory.

We took about two hundred prisoners, mostly Alabama troops, and had gained a position which would be of great importance should the enemy still attempt to hold the Chattanooga Valley.

With these heights in our possession, a column marching to turn Missionary Ridge was secure from flank attack.

The Confederates fired three small guns only during the affair, and that tended to confirm the impression that they had withdrawn their main force.

About four o'clock in the afternoon the enemy opened fire from the top of Missionary Ridge, the total number of cannon they displayed being about twelve, but nothing was developed to show decisively whether they would fight or flee.

Grant thought the latter; other judicious officers the former.

That evening I left Chattanooga to join General Sherman, who had his troops north of the river concealed behind the hills, and ready to attempt to cross the Tennessee that very night, so as to be able to attack the east head of Missionary Ridge on the night of the 24th or the morning of the 25th.

Sherman had some twenty-five thousand men, and crossing them over a river as wide and rapid as the Tennessee was above Chattanooga seemed to me a serious task, and I watched the operations of the night with great curiosity.

The first point was to get a sufficient body of troops on the south bank to hold a position against the enemy (the Confederates had pickets for a long distance up and down the Tennessee, above Chattanooga), and then from there commence building the pontoon bridge by which the bulk of the men were to be got over.

About one o'clock in the morning the pontoon boats, which had been sent up the river some distance, were filled with men and allowed to drop down to the point General Sherman had chosen for the south end of his bridge.

They landed about 2. 30 in the morning, seized the pickets, and immediately began to fortify their position.

The boats in the meantime were sent across the river to bring over fresh loads of men.

They kept this up until morning.

Then a small steamer which Sherman had got hold of came up and began to bring over troops.

At daybreak some of the boats were taken from the ferrying and a bridge was begun.

It was marvelous with what vigor the work went on.

Sherman told me he had never seen anything done so quietly and so well, and he declared later in his report that he did not believe the history of war could show a bridge of that length--about thirteen hundred and fifty feet--laid down so noiselessly and in so short a time.

By one o'clock in the afternoon (November 24th) the bridge was done, and the balance of his forces were soon marching briskly across.

As soon as Sherman saw that the crossing was insured, he set the foremost of his column in motion for the head of Missionary Ridge.

By four o'clock he had gained the crest of the ridge and was preparing for the next day's battle.

As soon as I saw Sherman in position, I hurried back to Chattanooga.

I

reached there just in time to see the famous moonlight battle on Lookout Mountain.

The way this night battle happened to be fought was that Hooker, who had been holding Lookout Valley, had been ordered to gain a foothold on Lookout Mountain if possible, and that day, while I was with Sherman, had really succeeded in scaling the side of the mountain.

But his possession of the point he had reached had been so hotly disputed that a brigade had been sent from Chattanooga to aid him.

These troops attacked the Confederate lines on the eastern slope of the mountain about eight o'clock that evening.

A full moon made the battlefield as plain to us in the valley as if it were day, the blaze of their camp fires and the flashes of their guns displaying brilliantly their position and the progress of their advance.

No report of the result was received that night, but the next morning we knew that Bragg had evacuated Lookout Mountain the night before, and that our troops occupied it.

After the successes of the two days a decisive battle seemed inevitable, and orders were given that night for a vigorous attack the next morning.

I was up early, sending my first dispatch to Mr. Stanton at half past seven o'clock.

As the result of the operations of the day before, Grant held the point of Lookout Mountain on the southwest and the crest of the east end of Missionary Ridge, and his line was continuous between these points.

As the result of the movement on November 23d, our lines in front had been advanced to Orchard Knob.

The bulk of the Confederate force was intrenched along Missionary Ridge, five to six hundred feet above us, and facing our center and left.

From Chattanooga we could see the full length of our own and the enemy's lines spread out like a scene in a theater.

About nine o'clock the battle was commenced on Sherman's line on our left, and it raged furiously all that forenoon both east of Missionary Ridge and along its crest, the enemy making vigorous efforts to crush Sherman and dislodge him from his position on the ridge.

All day, while this battle was going on, I was at Orchard Knob, where Grant, Thomas, Granger, and several other officers were observing the operations.

The enemy kept firing shells at us, I remember, from the ridge opposite.

They had got the range so well that the shells burst pretty near the top of the elevation where we were, and when we saw them coming we would duck--that is, everybody did except Generals Grant and Thomas and Gordon Granger.

It was not according to their dignity to go down on their marrow bones.

While we were there Granger got a cannon--how he got it I do not know--and he would load it with the help of one soldier and fire it himself over at the ridge.

I recollect that Rawlins was very much disgusted at the guerilla operations of Granger, and induced Grant to order him to join his troops elsewhere.