USA > Indiana > The soldier of Indiana in the war for the union, Vol. II > Part 41
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The enemy, fighting under cover, had but about three thousand killed and wounded. He lost more than six thou- sand prisoners, perhaps a thousand stragglers, forty pieces of artillery, sixty-nine artillery carriages and caissons, and seven thousand stand of small arms.
In the battle of Lookout Mountain on Tuesday, also in the advance from Lookout to and along Mission Ridge, Wednesday, the following Indiana regiments were engaged: the Ninth, Thirty-Sixth, Thirty-Fifth, Forty-Second, Eighty-
477
THE NUMBER OF FALLEN.
Eighth and Thirty-Eighth; the last, being in Carlin's brigade, was in the moonlight fight on the extreme right.
The Ninth lost twenty-five in killed and wounded. The Thirty-Eighth the same number. Major Carter was seri- ously wounded. Colonel Scribner is said to have spent the greater part of the night of the twenty-fourth attending to the wounded in the hospital, where surgical attendance was very limited.
The Forty-Second lost forty-three in killed and wounded.
In Sherman's wing of the army, the Twelfth, Eighty- Third, Ninety-Seventh and One Hundredth, and a portion of the Ninety-Ninth, were in the front, and the Forty-Eighth and Fifty-Ninth were in reserve. In the Twelfth, nine were killed and fifty-two were wounded. Three of the last died of their wounds. Captains Bowman, Huston and Beeson, Adjutant Bond, Quartermaster M'Clellan and Lieutenant J. E. Hart were among the wounded. The right foot of Captain Beeson was struck by a cannon ball. He refused to submit to amputation, and was recovering, when crysipe- las attacked the mangled limb and caused his death. He was deeply lamented by his company and by all who knew him. Captain Aveline was shot through the head.
The Ninety-Ninth had three wounded, two of whom died.
In the Hundredth, Lieutenant Colonel Heath was severely wounded early in the action, and Major Johnson assumed command. Captain Harland was killed. Captains Smith and Bronse, Lieutenants Swihart and Shanks, were wounded. Major Johnson received a slight wound, but joined in the pursuit. The regiment lost one hundred and thirty-two killed and wounded.
In the assault on the Rebel centre were the Sixth, Fif- teenth, Twenty-Second, Thirty-Second, Fortieth, Fifty-Sev- enth, Fifty-Eighth, Sixty-Eighth, Seventy-Fourth, Seventy- Fifth, Seventy-Ninth, Eighty-Second, Eighty-Sixth, Eighty- Eighth and One Hundred and First,-so large a number that Indiana may almost lay claim to the victory at this point, especially as the Seventy-Ninth and Eighty-Sixth were the first to reach and the first to plant the banner on the top.
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
The Seventy-Ninth lost twenty-three. Its Colonel's were the first eagle-embroidered straps which entered the enemy's works. He was one of the bravest men in the service. And his regiment was heroic, from the drummer, Walter Hart- pence, who pressed upward, rifle in hand, and was wounded, to every other man, above or below in rank. But what regi- ment on that inspiring field was not heroic?
Twelve battles had witnessed the devotion of Colonel Dick of the Eighty-Sixth,-Missionary Ridge was his thir- teenth and his proudest. The regiment considered the storming of Missionary Ridge the erowning achievement of all its operations during the war. General Thomas sent for the names of the brave fellows who carried the flag so gal- lantly up the ridge. He said he would remember them. Perhaps he did, but he gave them no further notice. The regiment lost thirty-six.
The troops whose fortune it had been to climb the moun- tain where it was less steep, suffered more severely. Wag- ner's brigade, while it halted to take breath and shelter in a ravine two-thirds of the way up, was ordered back to the breastworks at the base. It had hardly regained them when it was directed again to storm the steep. Up it went once more through the murderous fire.
The Fifteenth Regiment lost thirty-two killed and one hundred and sixty-five wounded out of three hundred and thirty-five. Captain Monroe and Lieutenant Sering were killed. The commanding officer, Major White, was wounded. Every color-bearer was shot down. Sergeant Banks carried the colors until he was shot three times. Lieutenant Gra- ham planted them on the works.
The Fortieth lost twenty killed and one hundred and thirty wounded, and was reduced to one hundred and ninety- two effective men.
The Fifty-Seventh, which, deployed five paces apart, formed the advance at the start, lost ninety-four killed and wounded.
The Fifty-Eighth lost sixty-six. Captain Smith and Lieu- tenants Milburn and Hill were among the wounded.
The Sixth lost seventy-six. Captain Strader died of a wound which he received.
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POSITION OF DISENGAGED REGIMENTS.
Lieutenant Colonel Glass and Lieutenant Schelz of the Thirty-Second were killed. The regiment lost forty-four in all.
The Sixty-Eighth lost eighty-two men and officers.
The Seventy-Fifth captured a piece of artillery on the summit, rushing over a regiment in its front in the charge. It lost twenty-two. Captain Bryant died of wounds received in the pursuit to Ringgold.
The Eighty-Second lost twenty-six.
The Eighty-Seventh lost sixteen. Lieutenant Russel died of his wounds.
The One Hundred and First lost thirty-four. The Eighty- Seventh and One Hundred and First, with the Second Min- nesota and the Thirty-Fifth Ohio, were the foremost of Baird's regiments.
The Fourth, Seventh, Eighth, Tenth, Eleventh, Twelfth, Nineteenth and Twenty-First batteries were all engaged on Wednesday, but being either within fortifications, or at a distance from the field, suffered no loss. The Nineteenth was in the pursuit to Ringgold.
General Cruft commanded a division. General Wagner, Colonel Grose, Colonel Alexander and perhaps other Indiana officers, commanded brigades.
The Thirty-Seventh, within the fortifications, and the Forty-Fourth, on provost duty in Chattanooga; the Twenty- Ninth, Thirty-First and Eighty-First, at Bridgeport; the Eighty-Fourth regiment and the Fifth battery at Shell Mound, and the Thirtieth and Thirty-Sixth, at Whiteside and Tyner's Station, were not engaged.
480
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
CHAPTER XXV.
FRANCIS H. AVELINE.
The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mourning for the dead; The heart of Rachel for her children crying, Will not be comforted .- Longfellow.
Captain Aveline was a gallant officer, and as pleasant in camp as he was brave in the field; but on the night of the twenty-fourth of November, as he stood by his eamp-fire on Missionary ridge, and watched the tired soldiers preparing for sleep, now and then exchanging with them a remark, his manner was melancholy, and he said "good night" as if it were good-bye, and meant, "We may not meet again, or meet only to part forever." They afterwards recalled his words and tones.
The next morning Captain Aveline, with his friend, Major Baldwin, went out to see the enemy's works. The thought- ful sadness still rested on the young man's face. His com- panion was struck with it, and pointing to the range of hills taken the day before, exclaimed, " Why look so sad, Frank? We shall be vietorious." "I know we shall gain the day," was the reply, "but you will look sad, too, before night. The stoutest hearts will quail."
They returned to the camp-fire, and Captain Aveline, shaking off his despondeney, wore again his own hopeful, genial manner. The battle soon opened, and he was in the midst of the fire and fury. Twice his sword was struck. He raised it above his head and eried, "Forward, boys, and keep your lines steady!" The words were yet on his lips, and the glory of the warrior's soul shone in his face, when a bullet entered his temple, and, as if that were not enough, another penetrated his ear. Franeis Aveline was in his
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BRAVE AND PATIENT.
twenty-first year when his spirit went up from the field of battle and victory.
When, in the spring of 1861, the first rumor of war reached the ears of his parents, they congratulated themselves that their high-spirited son was performing the duties of Deputy Clerk in the adjoining county of Noble, and was, as they sup- posed, out of the reach of excitement. But almost as soon as the alarm began to sound in the streets of his native city, Fort Wayne, his mother received from him a letter, pleading for her consent to his volunteering, and asserting that there was no necessity to ask his father. The mother yielded. and he joined the Twelfth regiment.
Just before he went away his mother said to him, "My son, you are a private, and will get but eleven dollars a month. You have been tenderly brought up, and are not used to such hardships as I fear you must endure. Promise me that you will let us know when you need money."
"I cannot do that, mother," he answered. "I cannot eat better food than my comrades." He carried this principle with him to his death, never asking for one dollar from home, and never complaining of hardship. When others grumbled about scanty food, or because they were huddled together like cattle in freight cars, he recalled the heroes of the Revo- lution, and saying they would have been glad of any mode of conveyance that would have rested their poor, swollen feet, he was content.
At the expiration of its first term of service, in May, 1862, the Twelfth received from President Lincoln a short com- mendatory address, every word of which Frank Aveline treasured up.
He ardently desired to reenter the service, but he could not bear to see his mother's struggle between her duty to her country and her love for her son, and he went back to his old work in the Clerk's office. However, Colonel Link and Lieutenant Baldwin successfully interceded for him. He re- enlisted, and was made First Lieutenant of Company B.
In the battle of Richmond, Kentucky, the young Lieuten- ant was haunted by the parting words of his father: "My 31
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
son, if you are wounded I hope it will not be in the back." He was so much afraid of what might be regarded a dis- graceful wound, that when compelled to retreat he frequently walked backwards.
In May, 1863, he was made Assistant Inspector of the First brigade, of his division, and was ordered on Colonel Loomis' staff. But he asked to be allowed to remain with his men, saying that he would rather share their toilsome marches on foot with them than consider himself a sort of genteel servant on any officer's staff, much as he liked Colo- nel Loomis. Shortly afterward he became Captain, in con- sequence of the promotion of Baldwin to the majority. Af- ter the surrender of Vicksburg and the capture of Jackson, Captain Aveline, with several other officers of the Twelfth, was allowed twelve days' leave of absence. During his visit he said to his mother, "I have never felt that I should be killed, but I pray and wish you to pray that I may not die of disease in camp or hospital, and that I may never be shut up in a Rebel prison. If I am to die in this war, I pray it may be with my face to the foe, leading my men on to vic- tory."
He was deeply wounded to discover that many of his old schoolmates and friends were southern sympathizers. After his return to the army he wrote: "Two years and a half ago, when I left home, I would not have believed that I could ever be soured and disgusted with society as I found myself. The whole thing seems to be hollow, a school of flattery and deceit. Even the mates of my boyhood are miniature trait- ors. I can never live among them again. If my life is spared to see the close of the war, I shall join the regular army, or try to get into the navy. I find among the rough soldiers true hearts."
And again, after speaking of his grief on leaving the dead of his company in Rebel soil: "I do wish this war would close; though rather than yield one inch to the wretched men who have caused my country so much sorrow, I would vote that the last man and the last dollar in the North be sacri- ficed."
His last letter, written at Bridgeport on the sixteenth of
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483
THE RETURN.
November, tells of the fifty-five days march without rest, ex- cept at night, and of the sore and even shoeless condition of many a poor soldier's feet. It was received at home on the evening of Wednesday, the twenty-fifth, and read while he who penned it lay cold and still on Missionary ridge, within the enemy's lines, his bent sword beside him, and his little Testament next his heart. The book had been given him when a child, and contained a lock of his mother's hair, and the song, "Rock me to sleep, mother."
A few days later his father reclaimed the remains. He had them embalmed in Nashville, and thus brought back to the weeping mother her first-born son. Hundreds came to look upon the dead soldier as he lay, beautiful and ealm, be- neath a canopy of banners pierced and torn in many battles, one of them the flag of his own regiment in the first year of the war. Kind hands wrapped the old flag round him as they laid him down to rest. His company erected to his memory a marble monument, on which is carved a drooping flag, and his last words, " Forward, boys, and keep your lines steady." His beloved Colonel Link's grave is near. Beside him lies the tender father, who, though he lingered two years, was crushed by the blow which destroyed the son.
Of the mother,
"The world goes whispering to its own, 'This anguish pierces to the bone; '
And tender friends go sighing round, 'What love can ever cure this wound ?'"
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
CHAPTER XXVI.
EAST TENNESSEE.
"Hungry and cold were the poor fellows who had so long been keeping the field; for provisions were scant, clothing worn out, and so badly off ยท were they for shoes, that the footsteps of many might be tracked in blood."- March to Valley Forge. Irving's Life of Washington.
General Burnside was assigned, in March, 1863, to the de- partment of the Ohio, to execute the grateful task of liberat- ing East Tennessee, which had lain since the beginning of the war at the mercy of the enemy; but a sufficient force was not at his disposal for several months, the Ninth corps, his main dependence, being required in the siege of Vicks- burg, and the Twenty-Third corps, or the troops which af- terwards formed that corps, being occupied by Rebel raids into and beyond Kentucky. He set out the middle of Au- gust, simultaneously with Rosecrans' advance from Tulla- homa. With a force of about eighteen thousand men, in light marching order he moved in five converging lines through the south-castern part of Kentucky, and to Mont- gomery, in Tennessee. Of Indiana organizations he had the Fifteenth and Twenty-Fourth batteries, the Eightieth in- fantry, the Sixty-Fifth, mounted since April, the Fifth cav- alry and the first batallion of the Sixth cavalry, all of which, and especially the Fifth, had been during many months in- defatigably engaged with the troublesome guerillas and raiding forces furnished or encouraged by Kentucky. Wag- ons were prepared to follow when the mountain passes should be cleared. Meantime pack mules carried stores and ammunition, and corn fields along the route furnished the main part of subsistence. The draught animals were worked to the utmost extent of their ability, and great numbers broke down and died. But the men, whose labor was proportion-
485
THE WELCOME OF THE MOUNTAINEERS.
ably severe, having to move the artillery by hand most of the way, hoisting it from height to height, and dropping it from rock to rock by means of ropes, continued stout and well, no doubt strengthened by the prospect of carrying deliverance to a captive land, and stimulated by the magnificent scenery as yet free from the gloom with which association afterward invested the bleak hills of Tennessee.
The Twenty-Fourth Indiana was the first battery to cross the mountains. Colonel Foster's brigade was the first brig- ade to reach Montgomery.
On the thirty-first of August, while General Burnside, with the main force, marched to the right, toward Kingston, Col- onel Foster, with his single brigade, advanced to the left, to- ward Knoxville. He occupied Winter's gap at sundown without opposition, and pushed on early the next day, the enemy seeming to melt away, and friends, with radiant faces of welcome, to rise from rocks and ravines. Baskets and buckets of refreshment and sweet water from the mountain springs were offered at every hand. Poor mountaineers, who had been for weeks on the brink of starvation, held out their little all of corn meal, saying, "God bless you! Take it! We can live on roasting ears until we get more." Tennes- see troops, returning exiles, whose hearts beat high with the gratification of long deferred hopes, moved in advance. At four in the afternoon of the first of September, they reached Knoxville, which was a scene of the wildest joy. Two years a national flag had not fluttered on any housetop, or been carried in any hand. Two years the name of the President had not been spoken except with curses or in whispers. Now, as the standard bearers held their banners aloft, the people, in the solemn, pathetic language of Scripture, "lifted up their voices and wept." They mingled praise and shout. "Glory!" "The Lord be praised!" "Hurra for Lincoln!" "Huzza for the Union!" In honor to the name of Lincoln, Tennessee loyalty contrasted strongly with Kentucky patriotism.
All night the mountains blazed with signal fires. At dawn, country people began to pour in from homes, where, by concealing their sentiments, they had been able to live in comparative security, and from hiding places among rocks
486
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
and caves, where, during two long years, they had not called their lives their own. Their emotion was extreme at sight of the hundred flags which had been brought out from secret places, and now flaunted in the sun. The Knoxville jail and the Knoxville gallows, instruments both of many a sad and cruel wrong, had attained a wide celebrity. The one the soldiers cut down and burned to ashes, unwilling that so infamous a thing should stand an hour on liberated soil. The other they opened, releasing from its filthy walls the in- mates who were confined for patriotism. But the retreating enemy had not neglected to carry away a prisoner who had been there many months, with his hands chained to the top of his cell during the day, and pinioned to the floor during the night.
General Burnside, on reaching Knoxville, set vigorously to work to repossess East Tennessee, sending forces north to Cumberland gap, south-west toward Chattanooga, and east to Smoky mountains. Each expedition achieved its desig- nated task. The Rebel command which held Cumberland gap surrendered on the ninth of September. Connection with General Rosecrans was formed by means of out posts, which reached below Athens. The force which moved to Smoky mountains captured the rolling stock of the railroad, and cleared the enemy from the region. The loyalty of the mountaineers finds fit notice in the following letter, written by Colonel Foster to his wife:
"The rejoicing and demonstrations I have witnessed will be, probably, the brightest of my reminiscences of the war. I never before saw such demonstrations at the sight of the old flag, or such evidences of genuine patriotism. It was the happiest epoch of my life to first carry that flag into Knoxville, and to bear it in the advance along up this valley for more than a hundred miles, and receive the welcome of the loyal people. No wonder the people received us with the very ecstacy of enthusiasm. No wonder they weep tears of joy at sight of the old flag, for it brings them freedom from op- pression. At our advance, men came to us all bleached and weak from hiding in rocks and caves, away from the light of day. And for months men have been chased through the
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PERSECUTED PATRIOTISM.
mountains by Indians (in the Rebel service) who were offered a bounty for their arrest or death. Women have been driven from their homes while their all was burned before them, be- cause their husbands were in the Union army. Scaffolds are to be seen where loyal men, on suspicion of bridge burning, were hung without any trial whatever. The tales of cruelty and wrong which I have heard go to make up a history of tyranny which will be the blackest record of this slavehold- ers' rebellion.
"There is a valley over the line in North Carolina, about twenty-five miles from this place, just under the shadow of the Great Smoky range of mountains, and almost shut out from the world. It is inhabited by wild, simple-hearted men, who, partaking of the true spirit of the mountains were unal- terably attached to the Government. No bribes nor threats could induce them to go into the Rebel army. When the con- scripting officers came to take them by force, and the fora- gers to carry off their horses and provisions, they met them along the mountain sides, with their squirrel rifles, and drove them back. It was almost worth a Confederate officer's life to venture into the valley. Finally, a large force of cavalry and Indians drove the mountaineers before it. The men, fit for military duty, fled to their hiding places. The Rebel cavalry gathered up the horses and cattle, and burnt up the houses in the valley, driving out women, old men and child- ren, who, as safe from conscription, had not sought refuge in concealment. This was bad enough, but worse was to come. They took twenty of these gray-haired old men, and youths of twelve and fourteen, out by the roadside, and, without crime or trial, shot them to death. And this was not all. The women and children were driven out of the valley, over the mountains and down to Greenville. Old and prominent citizens of this place tell me it was the most pitiable sight they ever beheld. A stout-hearted man, in talking to me about it, could not restrain his tears. Some of the women had children in their arms, and other little ones, barefoot and almost naked, clinging to their dresses. Women in the most delicate situation were made to walk with the rest. And all were driven like sheep at the point
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
of the bayonet. They were brought to the depot and kept over night. It was the avowed determination of Jackson, in command here, to send them over the Cumberland Moun- tains to Kentucky. But Governor Vance, of North Caro- lina, hearing of the brutal proceeding, declared that women and children should not be banished from his State, and they were returned. Since then, these men of Laurel Valley have been the wild men of the mountains, with their homes in the caves and cliffs, and woe be to the Rebel soldier who comes within range of their rifles. The most vigorous measures have been taken to ferret them out, but few have ever been caught. Their hiding places and their daring have been a good protection. A company of them twice attempted to break through and cross the Cumberland Mountains into Kentucky, but were driven back before they could get out of East Tennessee. Day before yesterday, over fifty of these brave men came over the mountains, and asked me for help. An old man, who was the spokesman and the wise man of the valley, said they were a poor, ignorant and wild set of 'cusses,' who didn't know much but devotion to their coun- try and how to shoot. He asked me to give them a little good advice and some guns. I could not refuse the latter, at least. I gave them the arms and sent them home. A merciful God will have to protect the savages, who mur- dered their fathers and sons, plundered their homes, burnt their houses, and drove out their wives and mothers; for these men, with their muskets, will not remember mercy. This is no faney sketch. It is the plain, unvarnished truth, vouched for by hundreds of citizens of Greenville. Would you believe that such savage atrocities could be committed in the land of Washington? This same General Jackson is now in front of me, and I have asked General Burnside for four days to let my brigade after him, but he withholds for the present. It will not be many days before I will try to capture him, or drive him out of East Tennessee, I hope for- ever."
General Burnside's unprecedented success was due in great measure to the timeliness of his advance (Bragg at this juncture imperatively requiring the assistance of Buck-
489
BATTLE OF BLOUNTSVILLE.
ner), and he only hastened the withdrawal of forces which were already prepared to move. A sufficient number, how- ever, remained to necessitate both vigilance and activity. General Jones, with a force of ten thousand, watched and waited along the northeastern border, threatening and har- assing outposts in the passes of the North Carolina moun- tains and on the Holston river, on the alert to retake Knox- ville and Kingston, with the whole of East Tennessee, should Burnside be compelled to hasten to Chickamauga. In the latter part of September, Burnside received orders to that effect. He promptly, though reluctantly prepared to obey, hastening in person up the valley of the Holston and along the railroad to recall his cavalry. He found Foster's brigade, under the command of Colonel Graham, on the edge of Vir- ginia, alternately pushing the enemy and falling back before him, and so closely engaged that it could not suddenly be withdrawn. Accordingly he prepared to join in the struggle, and, September 21, posted himself in front of a large but straggling body of the enemy, near Carter's Station, on the Holston river. Graham's cavalry was on the rear of the same force. The Fifth Indiana came under an ambushed fire early on the twenty-second, as it was cautiously scouring field and wood. A hot encounter followed, mostly in wild, thick, rocky woods, but partly in the open fields surrounding Blountsville. Graham led up the remainder of his brigade, which, however, was unable to drive the Rebels, until, at dark, the Sixty-Fifth Indiana broke their line. They fled, leaving the little town in flames, and women and children houseless, in the night. The Union loss was seventeen. The Rebel loss was eighty-six.
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