An Artilleryman's Diary Part 47

The water continued in an eastward direction, and we reasoned that by following it we would come out into Chattanooga Valley and off Lookout Mountain. For a distance of about two miles, we followed this rocky chasm. On either side towering cliffs reared their heads a hundred feet above us, while we clambered over ma.s.sive piles of stone, jumping across crevices, crawled and slid, etc., making our locomotion in a very odd way, the creek half the time whirling unseen beneath the rocks. This was hard work, and our s.h.i.+rts were wringing with sweat, yet all enjoyed it, at least I did.

But by climbing a little raise we at last found ourselves in quiet Chattanooga Valley, ten miles from town, and about 4 P. M., seated 'neath the trees, we picked blackberries. Made sauce for supper again, then walked leisurely toward camp. This valley is good land and well settled. We saw good fields of corn, etc. but little signs of war. The people are the same ignorant, illiterate cla.s.s. These people seem to have no idea as to distances whatever, showing their general ignorance forcibly. A woman told us "it was a heap o' distance" to Chattanooga; "A right smart ways" to dry valley; "A good chance" to the next house; "Only a bit" to the spring. As night drew on we felt our fatigue and we sought shelter. Asked one man for the privilege of lying down on his porch out of the dew, but he said he "never made a practice of keeping no one", so we concluded to bivouac with a small squad of negro soldiers who were out logging. Having traveled at least fifteen miles we could rest anywhere.

Chattanooga, Thursday, June 22. Daylight found us snoring away in a most ridiculous condition, wallowing in the sand around the negroes' fire, but I had a good night's rest. We pulled out early, breakfasted on blackberries, hard-tack and cold water from the spring, then made for camp. It was very hot before we reached it, by 9 A. M. Tired indeed, but of the many excursions of the kind I have partic.i.p.ated in, I never enjoyed one better.

But things had changed wonderfully while we were gone. Camp in an uproar. Before I entered the tent, a two-months' furlough was thrust in my face, of one of our boys disapproved at Thomas's headquarters, because it is said light artillery would soon be mustered out. This they thought was convincing evidence that we are homeward bound. Yesterday's mail brought Keeler's commission as second lieutenant, and before night he was mustered in. To-day he wears the straps in all his dignity, officer of the day. Can't touch him with a ten foot pole. Quartermaster Sergeant Malish promoted to first sergeant, Hiram James quartermaster sergeant and M. Dziewanowski reinstated as first gun sergeant. The latter gives much satisfaction. Lieutenant Waite and his remnant of the 3rd Wisconsin Battery reported here this morning to be consolidated on orders dated in May. Owing to recent orders Captain Simpson will not receive them. They have gone into "pup tents."

Chattanooga, Friday, June 23. After a good night's rest, I feel very tired yet. It will take some time to get over the effects of that tramp.

Some batteries are cleaning up ordnance, etc. The reserve is gradually dissolving. The command will undoubtedly go home together when it goes at all. a.s.sistant Inspector General ---- inspected all our condemned goods, knapsacks and Company property.

Chattanooga, Sat.u.r.day, June 24. A dull, quiet morning until 9 A. M. when I was ordered to the guard house for duty. Three of us reported there.

We were to guard prisoners to work on the road leading to water. Kanouse took them out two hours before noon; reported at camp for dinner. After dinner laid in guard house all day. Relieved at night by officer of the day, having done nothing. No great stir.

[Sidenote: 1865 Last Sunday in Camp]

Chattanooga, Sunday, June 25. Another Sabbath has been added to the long list of those pa.s.sed in a soldier's camp, in the same listless, irreverent way. But now that I am once more on the eve of a change, my mind is more reconciled to camp. In contrast, many times during the day have I thought of my home which I have never seen. Fancy has a wide range to build my ideal home, and then place the inmates who are anxiously waiting for Jenk's return. Wrote a letter to John and that is all.

HOMEWARD BOUND

Chattanooga, Monday, June 26. That for which we have so long waited, for which so many hard words have been uttered because of its long delay, for which so many officers have been roughly abused for its being withheld--_We are ordered to the States. To be mustered out._ Hurrah!!

Hurrah!!!

Boys went out grazing as usual this morning. 9 A. M. here comes an orderly which set the Captain a-jumping, Lieutenants a-crowing and privates run wild. In less time than it takes to write, all hands, cooks and negroes included, were at work cleaning off the guns so that they will be received by ordnance officers. Water, brush and rags and every available cleanser used until they would pa.s.s. Boys came in with horses at noon and another stock of good feelings pa.s.sed around. Afternoon well spent in cleaning, counting and gathering harness and other stores.

Commence turning them over to-morrow. Never since we last threw up works in front of the enemy, did the boys work with such a will. All past grievances forgotten in pleasant antic.i.p.ations of the future.

Chattanooga, Tuesday, June 27. Daylight found us in our boots and stirring. 7:30 A. M. the Battery moved out followed by battery wagons, forge and four wagon loads of ordnance. I on detail along. Ordnance officer ready to receive us. Lieutenant A. Sweet superintended the counting of everything by the clerk, which is a very tedious job.

Captain Simpson disposed of ammunition. I was on duty with Lieutenant Sweet and rode fast and heavy as orderly for him, bringing reports, etc. to and from camp. To-night everything is gone except the horses, which will be turned over to-morrow.

Great anxiety is expressed by all to reach home by the Fourth of July, which at present looks very probable. Camp looks forlorn and disorganized, everything upside down, boxes being made to be carried by express, knapsacks packed as though there was no time to do it to-morrow, but n.o.body notices it. All of the reserve are under home orders to-day. Fortune smiled on us this time in being first; aye, it laughed outright upon us. But, dear Journal, I cannot write, I feel too _good_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Development of a Soldier Jenkin Lloyd Jones Enlisted Aug. 14, 1862 At Memphis 1863 Mustered out July 18, 1865]

[Sidenote: 1865 Going Home]

Chattanooga, Wednesday, June 28. It is evening and the great work of turning over is accomplished in spite of lazy quartermaster. Through the unceasing efforts of our officers we are here on the depot platform ready to take the 4 A. M. train for "Home, Sweet Home." Left our old camp at 6 P. M. in high glee, and departed with hearty demonstrations for the Old Guard House where we all suffered from military agony.

Captain Nicklin, inspector general, who has often been abused and everybody else received his portion of "big injun tigers", etc. But I must go to sleep.

Chattanooga, Thursday, June 29. Aroused from our out-of-doors slumbers by the familiar notes of the old bugle at 3 A. M. Washed, and got aboard, and started 4 A. M. exactly. Ran very quietly and on time to Decherd, Tenn., which we reached by 12 M. Here we changed engines. Took an engineer unscrupulous and drunk, who ran the train at a dangerous rate between stations, then stopping for time and getting more whiskey.

At times we traveled at the rate of thirty-five miles to the hour over a very poor track, in spite of the remonstrance of our officer. The conductor persisted in allowing him to draw us through.

[Sidenote: 1865 A Final Tragedy]

Stopped to wood up. Many of the boys got off to pick blackberries which were very plenty. At the instant the signal was given to start, the drunken brute threw full power on the engine starting up with great suddenness, and we were soon under full headway. Poor Frank King was on the ladder between the cars, and he lost his hold and fell on the rails, the forward trucks of the car I was on, pa.s.sing over his lower extremities. The shuddering cries of the wounded man pierced the ears of all on board, and one and all strove to stop the train, but the engineer instead increased his power. Not until the boys locked the brakes so tight that his drive wheels flew over on the rail, did he stop, and then he made a mad effort to proceed, which resulted in breaking loose towards the forward end of the train.

Swift feet carried men back to where the unfortunate man lay. An engineer of the southern train was bathing his temples with water and endeavoring to stay the flow of blood, but he was gone beyond the power of human skill, his legs badly crushed and spine injured so that he died in a few moments without uttering an audible word. The train was backed up and the corpse put into a vacant car with his bereaved brother Fred, and we proceeded in the same reckless manner. The boys by this time were filled with just indignation, and at Murfreesboro, as the now perfect demon rushed into the nearest saloon to imbibe once more of the "devil's beverage", he was surrounded by a crowd, rushed out of doors and handled roughly, pistols were presented, and his life was in jeopardy, when he said "that he did not care if he killed every d----."

Captain Simpson and Lieutenant Sturges of Battery E, 1st Ohio, telegraphed to Nashville the facts, and demanded another engineer of the conductor, but he refused, so Sergeant Dziewanowski and three or four others of our boys rode on the engine to watch him. Ran very well to Lavergne, fifteen miles from Nashville, when he discovered his boiler was almost dry, water all gone. Watered and he was obliged to run the engine alone to pump the water into the boiler. Ran down the track a mile and a half, and came back under all the speed he could raise.

Without letting up struck the train, mas.h.i.+ng in the forward cars, and knocking everybody in the train down nearly. By this time two pistols were fired at the villain, and a stone struck him on the head. He rushed on for Nashville, his fireman leaving him to his fate. After some delay another engine hitched on to us and we proceeded with caution. Five miles from town we found his engine on the road, he having taken himself to the woods. Reached depot by 10 P. M. and slept in the depot.

Louisville Depot, Nashville, Friday, June 30. Before dawn this morning Davie Evans and myself were aroused from a heavy sleep to go and watch the corpse of F. King. The body lay in an old freight car covered with coa.r.s.e sacks. By it sat his brother Fred, the only mourner, writing the sad tidings to their dear ones, whose hearts are bounding in antic.i.p.ation of the joyful meeting. Oh, how uncertain are human joys.

One moment of time often turns the brightest picture into a painful blank. 9 A. M. we started in search of a coffin. Returned at 10:30 A. M.

with a rough board one, and the undertaker took charge of it; his brother even, not allowed to see the cold clay close over him.

In the meantime the Company had gone into the exchange barracks a mile distant. Faint for want of breakfast we followed and procured a good substantial meal, which answered for both breakfast and dinner. Captain Simpson reported as ordered to General Thomas. Received instructions to return the detached men to their command. The 3rd to proceed with us to the States; the 8th boys must go back to Murfreesboro, a disappointment to them. Transportation procured. We expect to leave for Louisville 7:50 P. M. The 1st Illinois and Battery E, 1st Ohio, to go along. All are much pleased with our good luck in getting off so soon. Nashville is the same as ever, a low-down, demoralized hole.

Soldiers' Home, Louisville, Ky., Sat.u.r.day, July 1. 7 A. M. We have completed another ride in the dark, of 183 miles. Rode in second-cla.s.s pa.s.senger cars, very crowded, and no sleep. Have had a splendid breakfast (for soldiers) at the Soldiers' Home. Served in a manner which reminds us very forcibly that we are nearing civilization. Officers are working for the boys handsomely, will try to get us off 5 A. M. This hall is a musical one just now; four of the batteries, light artillery--all going home.

Kokomo, Ind., Sunday, July 2. Crossed the Ohio River yesterday about noon, into "G.o.d's country" as the boys call it. Said a.s.sertion was rendered true, having a good dinner at the Soldiers' Home. But when they put us in cattle cars two hours late, to go North, the spirit dampened.

Started at 2 P. M. northward, an extra train, made slow time.

Now we travel through a country never darkened with slavery and rebellion. The contrast was very great. I almost imagined I was transferred into the Elysian fields of mythology. The fields teemed with golden harvest, grain nearly all cut, droves of cattle grazed in rich pastures of tame gra.s.s, pretty little children could be seen gathered around district school-houses, and sweet girls appeared in neat calicoes with "nary" a "swab" in their mouths. Above all, we were welcomed. White handkerchiefs are waved enthusiastically from every house and hamlet, stars and stripes were thrown out triumphantly to the breeze as we pa.s.sed along, each demonstration drawing forth ringing response from the joyous soldier boys. At Henryville an entire school of young ladies turned out to welcome the "extra" train with soldiers, the building being draped with a large flag. At Seymour a great arch had been erected over the railway on which was inscribed "Welcome Home, Brave Soldiers."

Night soon overtook us now. It was 10 P. M. when we arrived, sleepy and well shaken, at Indianapolis, of which we knew no more than to hastily jump into another string of dirty box cars, and rush on through broken slumbers to Kokomo Junction, where we arrived 5 A. M. Are now waiting for an engine down from Chicago to take us up.

Soldiers' Rest, Chicago, Monday, July 3. We left Kokomo 8 A. M. and had a very pleasant ride through a beautiful country teeming with good crops, etc. The same cordial welcome shown as yesterday. Reached this place 5 P. M. last evening and marched through crowds of inhabitants out to see "the boys coming home", with a bright new flag proudly floating in the breeze, to the Soldiers' Rest where we were furnished a splendid supper by the fair ones of Chicago. Slept where we might. I rested on depot platform. Have had another good breakfast, and am impatiently waiting 9 A. M. when the train leaves for Madison, Wisconsin. Captain Simpson has telegraphed for permission to let the boys go home and spend the Fourth.

HOME AT LAST

[Sidenote: 1865 Home]

After almost three years' absence, I found my valley home at dusk on the third of July, 1865. And what a happy union it was. Father, mother, sisters and brothers, all together. The circle unbroken during the terrible three years that had rolled over us since I parted to try my fate in a soldiers' camp. The bitter tears of anguish then, were replaced by those of unbounded joy. All the hards.h.i.+ps and privations of my campaign were amply repaid at this joyful union.

But three years had brought a change here as well as upon me. The locks of my aged father were considerably whiter than when I left. Mother I was rejoiced to find looking so well. That frail casket which I feared so much could never see this happy day on earth, has retained its vitality to a wonderful extent. Thomas, John, Margaret, Mary, Hannah and Ellen were the same in appearance as when I left, but Jane had grown from a school girl to the full proportions of a woman, and I scarcely could recognize her. The little boys are grown and much changed, but yet the same.

And this is not all the change. I left them without a place to call home, but found them situated in a lovely location, a pleasant house and expanding fields, for which I felt very thankful. But there was no time left for such thoughts that evening. Among other kindnesses I had bread and milk.

Spring Green, Tuesday, July 4. A happy day to the happy family. Fourteen of us filled the old family wagon and crossed the river to Spring Green where I met several of my Battery chums. A pleasant picnic pa.s.sed off here for the benefit of the soldier boys. It was great gratification to know that our old friends welcomed us home so cordially. I read the Declaration of Independence and Reverend Phillips addressed.