Читать книгу Four Months in Libby and the Campaign Against Atlanta - I. N. Johnston - Страница 6

Table of Contents

CHICKAMAUGA.

The battle—Am taken prisoner—Trip to Richmond—Incidents on the way—Star-Spangled Banner sung in Dixie—Kind treatment—Arrival at Richmond.

The battle of Chickamauga, one of the most stoutly contested of the war, may be said to have commenced on Friday, the 18th of September, 1863; but the heaviest fighting took place on Saturday and Sunday. We were outnumbered, as is well known; but, by the persistent courage of Gen. Thomas and his brave associates, the enemy were foiled in their purpose—which was to retake Chattanooga—and the army saved from the disaster which at one time during the fight seemed inevitable. Bragg, it is true, claimed a glorious victory; but if battles are to be judged by their results, his victory was a fruitless one, the prize which was at stake remaining in our hands. True, we lost many brave men, and much of the material of war; but Chattanooga, the key of Georgia, was not wrested from our grasp; the valor of the troops, too, was never more nobly illustrated; for the stout men under Thomas stood unshaken on Mission Ridge as the wave-washed rock, against which the hitherto invincible legions of Longstreet, like fierce billows, madly dashed themselves, to fall back, like those broken billows, in foam and spray.

Men fell upon that field whose names never will perish, and others, who still live, there gained immortal renown. There fell Lytle, the poet-hero; sweet was his lyre, and strong was his sword. There the modest yet brave Thomas displayed the qualities of a great general, firm and undismayed amid carnage and threatened disaster; and there Garfield, the gallant and the good, won richly-deserved honor.

But to my own story. I had been unwell for several days, but the excitement of the conflict aroused and sustained me. Late on the evening of Saturday our brigade was ordered to retreat, and, unable to keep up with the main body, I was overtaken and captured. I was taken in charge by two lieutenants, and regret that I did not learn their names or command, as they treated me with marked kindness, as brave men ever treat a conquered foe. They saw, moreover, by my appearance, that I was quite ill, and this doubtless excited their sympathy. Soon another lieutenant came up; he was a Georgian, and drunk; he took away my sword-belt and haversack. Being cautioned by the others to take care of my watch, I slipped it down my back unobserved by my Georgia friend, and saved it for the time being. My captors conducted me about a mile and a half to the rear, and kept me there all night. We had to pass over the ground that had been fought over during the day; it was thickly strewed with the dead and wounded of both armies; their dead seemed to be in the proportion of three to our one. I saw Gen. Bragg for the first time at a distance. The night was intensely cold for the season, and I suffered severely, having lost my blanket; moreover, I was exhausted from hunger, having eaten nothing for two days. I was fortunate enough, however, to meet with a prisoner of the 9th Indiana, who generously gave me a cup of coffee and a cracker, after which I felt greatly refreshed. This noble fellow also shared his scanty covering with me, and I trust he may ever find a friend as kind as he proved to me. By morning the number of prisoners was quite large, most of them nearly starved; the men guarding us were very kind, and said they would gladly give us food, but they were as destitute and as hungry as ourselves. To prove their sincerity they marched us to a sweet-potato patch, and all hands, prisoners and guards, in army phrase, "pitched in." We then made fires and roasted the potatoes, and often since have made a worse meal. We were then marched across the Chickamauga River to a white house, where we found another lot of prisoners collected; our names were taken, and every man was relieved of his haversack; they were taken by a Texas captain, who distributed them to his own men. This was Sunday, the 20th. About ten o'clock in the morning the battle commenced again, and we prisoners were ordered into rank and marched in the direction of Ringgold. After an hour's march we were halted till about two in the afternoon, during which time there was another squad of prisoners marched to the rear and added to our number. During all this time the battle was raging furiously, and as the sound of the fierce conflict came to our cars there was the greatest anxiety on the part of our guard as well as ourselves. I had heard that Rosecrans had been heavily reënforced, and believing it to be true, was sanguine of success.

At two o'clock the captured officers, now numbering about one hundred and fifty, were ordered to fall in according to rank, non-commissioned officers and privates to follow. In this order we marched, stopping a few minutes to rest at the end of every hour, stimulated by the promise that we should draw rations as soon as we reached Ringgold. On our way we met one of Longstreet's brigades hurrying to the front; they were fine, soldierly-looking men, the very flower of the Confederate army, better drilled and equipped than any Southern troops I had seen, either at Shiloh or Stone River; they were confident, too, from their successes in Virginia; but they found their equals, at least, at Mission Ridge in the gallant men of the West. We reached Ringgold about nine o'clock at night, but failed to draw the promised rations, and were told if we would march four miles further we should come to the camp of a brigade of Longstreet's men, who were guarding a railroad station, and be sure to find the much-desired rations there. Many of us had been nearly worn out marching previous to the battle, and had passed through one day's fight; nevertheless, so hungry were we, that we were glad to drag our weary limbs four miles further, and in that distance wade the Chickamauga three times, in the hope of finding food, fire, and rest.

When within a short distance of the camp we were ordered to take rails from a fence to make fires to dry our clothes and make ourselves comfortable for the night. We were eager to avail ourselves of the liberty thus granted, and soon a column of men, about two thousand in number, each with from three to five rails on his shoulder, were marching on. About two o'clock in the morning, wet, dispirited, and weary, we reached camp, wincing somewhat under the burden of our rails, which grew heavier every step. Again we were doomed to disappointment; we found nothing there to relieve our hunger; so we kindled our fires, stretched ourselves near them, and strove to forget the pangs of hunger and the bitterness of captivity in sleep.

On the morning of the 21st we were marched to Tunnel Hill, a distance of five miles. We remained there till two P. M., in which interval the long-desired rations of corn meal and bacon were issued. We asked for time to bake our bread and divide the meat, and were assured that we should have the opportunity we desired. Men were detailed to bake the bread and cut up the bacon, and in imagination we saw the long-expected and welcome meal prepared; but scarcely were our fires lighted and the meat divided, before we were again ordered into ranks, and obliged to leave nearly all our uncooked rations lying on the ground. To famishing men this was a severe trial; but orders were imperative, and with sad hearts we marched to the depot, where we found a train of cars awaiting our arrival. We got on board and reached Kingston, where we remained till morning. Here we met a brigade of Longstreet's men, who treated us with great kindness, many of them dividing their rations with us.

The same day we moved forward to Atlanta, which place we reached at five, P. M. We found an immense crowd awaiting the arrival of the Yankees, and were stared at and criticised in a manner far from agreeable. Pity for our condition dwelt in the hearts of some, but they were forced to restrain any expression of sympathy; while those who came to jeer, and laugh, and to show their mean exultation, gratified their feelings to the fullest extent. We were marched to a dirty hill-side a short distance from the city, and surrounded by a strong guard. Our camp inclosed a spring in its limits, but had very little wood for fuel; the absence of this we felt keenly, as the nights were cold, and we without tents or blankets, and many of us having lost our overcoats, and thus left without any thing to protect us in our dismal quarters beneath the open sky. Some time after nightfall we received a small ration of bread and beef, the first which we had been permitted to cook and eat for four days, during which time we had subsisted on raw corn and elderberries, which we gathered at the different points at which we had stopped on our way from the battle-field. The officers in charge of us said that the reason we were not supplied with food before, was, that they were nearly destitute themselves, which was doubtless true, as our guards fared just as we did.

We remained at our dirty and disagreeable camp till the afternoon of the next day, when we were removed to the barracks, where we were searched. Many citizens, both male and female, gratified their curiosity by calling to see us, doubtless expecting, from the reports they had heard, to see a race of beings far different from themselves. The next morning we were ordered to take the cars for Richmond. Previous to starting for the depot we had selected several stirring National songs, which we sung as we passed through the city. This demonstration attracted great attention; windows were thrown up, doorways thronged, and soon even the streets crowded with citizens, who came rushing from every direction to hear those unusual strains. Many scowled upon us as we went singing by, while some smiled approvingly, as if delighted to hear once more the songs of the Union; and for my own part the Star-Spangled Banner fell more sweetly upon my ear, though far down South, a prisoner and among the enemies of that flag, than ever before. Strange to say, we were not interrupted; and as the boys joined in the swelling chorus, with heads erect and hearts high beating, they seemed more like victors returning from glorious fields, than captives on their way to a gloomy prison, to be exchanged by many of them for an untimely grave—nay, not untimely; for those who perished there were no less heroes and martyrs than those who laid down their lives on the field of honor—not one of them has died in vain.

Leaving Atlanta, we reached Augusta about twelve o'clock at night, and were marched to a church-yard, in which we camped till next morning. We were well treated by the citizens; many of them visited us, and showed us such kindness during our stay, that we could not but conclude that many of them, at heart, were lovers of the Union still. Nor was this the only occasion, while passing through the South, that we discovered strong symptoms of a Union sentiment among the people; many have secretly cherished the sacred flame, and will yet welcome the army of the Union as their deliverers. Leaving Augusta, we crossed the Savannah River into South Carolina, passed through Raleigh, Weldon, and Petersburg, and on the 29th of September, about seven o'clock in the evening, we reached the depot at Richmond, and were marched to our Libby home.