USA > Ohio > In the 50th Ohio serving Uncle Sam : memoirs of one who wore the blue > Part 7
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18
But while we were waiting for better weather and enjoying ourselves in our camp among the pines, we were eating a hole in our ten days' rations, and still had that nine or ten days' march ahead of us over the Cumberland Mountains.
Finally on the 8th day of January, without drawing any more rations, we broke camp and moved forward, having with us the Ninety-first Indiana Infantry and the Sixth Michigan Battery, all under the command of General Gilbert, and now came the tug of war.
We did not get far till we began to climmb the mountains ; toward evening, we came to a very steep incline, and to make it still worse, the ground was icy, with a small skiff of snow on top. This made it impossible for the mules to pull the wagons up the hill or mountain, I suppose would be the proper name to give it.
So it became necessary to fasten the ropes of the battery to the wagons and pull them up by hand, and if my memory serves me rightly, part of the wagons, or perhaps all of them, remained at the foot of the hill until the next morning. But I remember the Fiftieth camped on top of the hill, and, oh, what a disagreeable night we passed. The weather was still cold, and the snow and ice hid all the dry wood and as there were no rail fences in sight, we had nothing to build fires with but green pine wood, and if the reader has ever had any experience in trying to kindle a fire with that kind of material, he can judge that we had a worrysome time of it. There was plenty of smoke, but very little fire, so when morning dawned, we were smoked Yankees sure enough.
63
IN THE FIFTIETH OHIO
I have neglected to mention that our band boys in the past year had furnished themselves with a set of brass instruments, and as they had plenty of time to practice they had become quite proficient and made excellent music.
In the morning after our first night in the mountains, Colonel Strickland posted the band on the brow of the hill, and every wagon we would pull up, the band would play us a nice lively tune that encouraged and kept us in good spirits, and we soon had the wagons all up, and resumed our march.
We went into camp the second day before it got very dark, and we had the good fortune of finding plenty of rich pine knots, and they made splendid fires. While I was busy hunting pine knots, I heard our postmaster (Billy Child) loudly calling my name. Hastening to him, I was agreeably surprised by him handing me a letter from one of my brothers in Ohio. It struck me at the time as something rather odd to receive a letter on top of the Cumberland Mountains.
You may be sure I was delighted to get it, for it reminded me that though I was absent from my loved ones, I was not forgotten, and this thought is always a very comforting one to the young soldier, who is miles away from his old home for the first time in his life.
I kept no journal of this march across the mountains. My impression is that our first day and nights' experience was the worst we had, though for that matter it was all bad enough. I thought as I tramped along, how I would enjoy such a trip as this in the good old summer time, when all nature wears her happiest smiles, for one who wishes to live close to nature could enjoy that wish among those rugged mountains to his heart's content. For even when King Winter reigns supreme in these lonely solitudes, one who has the taste and desire to observe closely can trace the handiwork of the All-wise Creator.
We crossed many little mountain streams, whose waters as they murmured along over their gravely bottoms were as clear as crystal, and the borders of those streams were fringed with the mountain laurel, whose leaves remain green summer and winter.
There was at this time some few deer and wild turkeys in these wilds, but they were wild indeed, and it was very seldom that a hunter would get close enough to bring one down with his trusty rifle.
The route we traveled could scarcely be called a road, yet
64
SERVING UNCLE SAM
there were landmarks that showed us plainly that other troops "and army wagons had traveled this same road before us.
. At intervals, we would pass the remains of some poor mule, who had mired down, and been left to perish by the way. Some of the boys called them mile posts, while others would cry out : "Mark him, double duty." Poor, patient mules! It is shame- ful to think how the innocent beasts were abused and made to suffer during the war; they were starved, whipped, kicked, beat with clubs and cursed, and yet our army would have been at a loss without them.
"All honor then is due, say I To the soldiers' long-eared friend. They were all O. K. if you kept shy, And avoided their business end."
But many things were done during the war that was cruel, to the soldiers as well as their patient friend, the government mule. True, many of these cruelties could not be avoided, but still there were many things that could have been managed dif- ferent, and done away with a large amount of suffering, misery and cruelty.
General Sherman has well described war when he said it was h-1. But all good and bad earthly things must come to an end, so this mountain trip of ours ended January 16th by easing our wagons down with ropes into Powell's Valley, where we went into camp.
We were nine days making the trip. The distance was said to be seventy-five miles, so we averaged a little over eight miles a day. We ran short of rations, and had to shorten up our belts a few holes each day. Green persimmons were not in season, or we could have eaten some of those, and they would have puckered up our stomachs so that they would not require any food.
CHAPTER XI.
Camp in Powell's Valley-Living Off of the Country-Work on Road in Wheeler's Gap-A Stolen Bible-Two Moun- tain Pinks and Other Incidents of Camp-On to Knoxville.
Camp near Jacksbourough, Tenn., Jan. 27, 1864.
"This is the first opportunity I have had to write to you all since leaving Somerset. We were there on New Year's Day, and,
65
IN THE FIFTIETH OHIO
oh ! how cold it was. How was it in Ludlow that day? I hope you all had plenty of wood and coal to burn, for it was a terrible cold day.
"The squad that I bunk with left the camp and went down in a deep hollow at the mouth of a cave, where we found an old log building. In there, the wind could not reach us. We built a huge fire and passed our time very comfortable.
"We remained at Somerset until about the third or fourth of the month. Then drawing ten days' rations, we marched down to Burnside Point and crossed to this side of the Cumberland River. Went into camp in a pine grove. Here we remained till the morning of the eighth, when we broke camp and started on our trip over the mountains. The troops with us were the Ninety-first Indiana and the Sixth Michigan Battery, all under the command of General Gilbert. The weather was cold at the start, and the ground was covered slightly with a coating of ice and snow. In places, the road was so steep, we had to fasten ropes to the cannon and wagons and pull them up by hand. I would love to make this trip in warm weather, but in the winter it is very disagreeable, tramping through these wilds.
By remamining at the river so long after drawing our rations, we ran out before we got across. We were three days on full ra- tions. Two days on half rations; three days on fourth rations, and one day on no rations at all.
We were nine days making the trip across. On the evening of the 16th, we reached the jumping off place, and had to use the ropes again, and let our wagons down by hand into the valley, where we are now encamped.
The Ninety-first Indiana has gone to Cumberland Gap, and the Sixth Michigan Battery to Knoxville, so we are informed. Don't know what became of General Gilbert, but no matter, none of us have much use for him.
"We arrived here hungry and weary, but not discouraged. Powell's Valley is a rich valley. There was plenty of corn raised here the last season.
"Next morning after our arrival, the teams' were sent out to hunt us something to eat. They found plenty of corn and meat. The corn they took to the mills and had it ground into meal. In a day or two everything was running smoothly and we had plenty to eat.
"The weather has become more moderate, and our teams have gone back to Point Burnside after rations for us. In the mean- time, we are living off of the country, and are getting fat. I weigh almost two hundred pounds. We eat corn bread and sorghum syrup, corn pork and drink corn coffee. Guess we will soon have to acknowledge the corn.
"Our regiment is at work on a road running back through the mountains. We spend a part of each day on it. I have no idea
66
SERVING UNCLE SAM
at present how long we will remain here. Should we stay until we finish the road, it will take sometime. We are 35 miles from Knoxville.
"Direct your letters to Knoxville, as all our mail comes by that route. Writing material is very scarce with us here. Write me as often as you can, as you have no idea how it cheers us boys to get news from home.
"Our trip over the mountains was rather hard on us, but we have all got rested up now, and its hardships and privations are forgotten. We were glad to get over into Tennessee, and leave the dark and bloody ground of Kentucky, where we have passed most of our time since we have been in the service."
It was while we were encamped here that I lost one of my chums, Comrade Henry Liebrook. He was stricken down with in- flammatory rheumatism, and did not live but a few days. We buried him with honors of war. Poor Henry! he was a good boy, a good soldier, a whole-souled comrade, a very warm friend of mine, and I missed him sadly. He sleeps in old Tennessee, far away from home and loved ones. Peace to his ashes.
When we first arrived here, we had nothing to eat, but Jack Culp came to the rescue of our squad; he made some trade, by which he received several corn cakes that tided us over till we got things into running order. Old Jack thought a great deal of his stomach, and was constantly on the lookout for something to put in it.
We had not been camped here many days until Jack in some of his rambles found out where there was some wild mountain hogs had their rendezvous at night, but they were so wild it was impossible to get near them in the daytime.
So Jack detailed three or four of the boys to go with him, and they left camp one morning before daylight on a still hunt. In an hour or two, they returned, each loaded with fresh pork. Old Jack had made good once more, and we certainly enjoyed the fresh pork with our corn pone and sorghum molasses, and voted Comrade Jack a "Jim Dandy."
Jack and I went out into the valley one day to see if we could buy some butter, and in going up to a farmer's residence we had to pass by his milk house. We saw a nice crock of butter, and we made sure we would have no trouble in purchasing some of it at least. But we were very much disappointed. They positively refused to sell us anything. Somewhat crestfallen, we returned to camp, but on the way we decided if that butter
67
IN THE FIFTIETH OHIO
remained in the same place that night we would have it, sell or no sell.
That evening then, a short time after dusk, two boys in blue might have been seen stealing out of camp and skulking through the bushes, so as to avoid the pickets, and making a bee line across Powell's Valley for a certain spring house, which in due time they reached, and notwithstanding the loud barking of the dogs, they entered, but alas! only to find the jar of nice yellow butter missing. We now remembered of meeting one of the officers' cooks with a package in his arms as we came along, and no doubt he was the laddie that got the butter. It was engaged to him, I suppose, was the reason the parties refused to sell it to Jack and me in the morning. Well, we had to acknowledge we were beat, but we made the best we could of a bad bargain. We drank all the sweet milk we could hold and then took one of the milk jars to camp with us. It came in quite handy to mix our corn meal batter in, and we used it for that purpose while we remained at this camp.
I wish to relate something now that I fear will place comrade Culp in a position where his good qualities will not shine as bright as I could wish them to, but I promised myself when I commenced writing these reminiscences that I would try to hew to the line let the chips fall where they would, and so far, I have kept that promise, and I still intend to hold to it, though it should put me in a bad light myself.
I am afraid I have to some extent strained my reputation already, but old veteran readers all know from experience that it as hard for a soldier to always keep his conduct and character unspotted.
But now for the incident. Comrades Jack Culp and Sergeant Sam Lousy went one afternoon on a private scout of their own, and getting interested talking to the ladies they met at dif- ferent houses, as soldiers naturally would, they got belated and night overtook them a mile or so from camp. On the way, they had to pass a house where two ladies and some children lived.
Jack knocked on the door, but got no response, as there hap- pened to be no one at home just at that time. Jack says, "Let's go in and see what we can find"; Lousy says, "No, come on, let's go to camp," but Jack bolted in, and Sam, after going on a few steps, stopped and waited until Jack overtook him. Jack told Sam then that he had taken two tin cups, a book and a molasses canister. Now I can't say whether Jack knew what
68
SERVING UNCLE SAM
kind of a book it was when he was taking it or not, but when he got into camp and to a light, it proved to be a small family Bible with the family record in it.
Next morning we ate the molasses out of the canister, and Jack threw the canister in the fire and burnt it up, and took the cups and Bible and hid them in the leaves and brush on top of our shanty.
Just about that time the women made their appearance in camp, and went to Colonel Strickland and reported the theft; they said they cared for nothing but the Bible, but as that had their family record in, they would like to have it back. Colonel Strickland had the camp searched, but of course no Bible was found. By the way, the women had seen Culp and Lousy that afternoon they were out, and said they were almost positive that they were the ones that had entered their house and stolen their Bible.
The Colonel asked them if they could identify the men if they saw them again. They said they thought they could. So the Colonel had the regiment ordered into line, but the women failed to identify the culprits. Then Colonel Strickland made us a short speech, and the way he went for the man that took that Bible was something fierce. He finally said he hoped whoever the man was. that he would take the Bible and turn to the Ten Commandments and read them, as he thought it would benefit him to do so. He then dismissed us to our quarters.
We boys that were in Jack's squad-or mess, as we soldiers called it-told Jack he ought to return the Bible, for he had done very wrong to take it, and we advised him to return it, but he seem- ed to feel so ashamed and guilty of what he had done, he hesitated and refused to do so.
I then proposed that he would allow Lousy and me to return it ; he readily consented to this proposition. So Lousy and I took the Bible and tin cups and returned them to the ladies. They were highly pleased to get their Bible back and were very profuse in thanking us for the interest and trouble we had taken for them, and readily agreed to drop the incident and make no further trouble for Jack. They became quite friendly to Lousy and I, and we dropped in on them several times after that, and passed some pleasant hours with them.
On one of our calls we had the pleasure of meeting two young ladies from up in the mountains, and they were as pretty as pictures ; their lips were the color of ripe May cherries, and their
69
IN THE FIFTIETH OHIO
cheeks had the beautiful pink blush of the Hermose rose; they were charming, but were rather shy in the presence of us boys in blue. Lousy and I were badly smitten with them, but, alas! before we had the pleasure of meeting them a second time, we were ordered to Knoxville, and never saw our mountain pinks again.
We often regretted that the fates were so cruel to us, but perhaps it may have been all for the best. We stayed rather late the night we met them, and as we were crossing a large, level meadow on the way to camp, we were somewhat startled to see two lights a short way in front of us, that at first we took to be lanterns, carried by two persons, but after watching them closely for awhile, we became convinced they were phantom lights, or what are generally called "jack-o-lanterns." They looked to be about three or four feet from the ground, and they traveled first in one direction and then another, and seemed to wander around, as though they were hunting for something, and although we now understood what they were, yet they had an uncanny appearance, and caused a creepy sensation to crawl slowly up our spinal columns, and we could feel the hair on our heads gradually assume an upright position, much like the hair of a cat's back when it is badly frightened, and our caps were elevated until we had to readjust them to keep them on our heads.
But finally we reached the woods beyond the lights, and with many a backward glance over our shoulders to see if they were following us, we arrived at camp in safety.
It was while at this camp I received the discouraging news that "one of the girls I left behind me," and with whom I had been corresponding, growing tired of waiting for me to come home to claim her, concluded to marry one of the stay-at-home guards, and I understood the last letter I wrote to her was handed her a few minutes after she became a bride.
This was the second one of my young lady correspondents to marry since I had entered the service, but being a strong believer in the old saying that the third time is the charm, I soon opened up a correspondence with a young lady that had been a schoolmate of mine, and we continued to correspond until the close of the war and I had returned home, but sad to relate, she took sick and died in a short time after my return.
But such is life. Here in this world, we meet many disappoint- ments ; things will not always come our way, and it is well we are
70
SERVING UNCLE SAM
so constituted as to soon forget our troubles and disappointments ; our lives are to a large extent built upon hopes for the future.
We no sooner see one of our idols that we have taken such care to rear shattered than we begin in our imagination to rear others, and hope to be more fortunate in the future.
Thus it was with Lousy and I. We felt cruelly disappointed in not being permitted to meet our mountain pinks but the one time ; yet we soon forgot their. smiling faces, sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks, and began to peer into the future, hoping we might have better luck next time.
We remained at this camp perhaps four or five weeks, put in four or six hours each day, working on a road back through Wheeler's Gap.
When our teams returned from Burnside Point with supplies for us, we were ordered to Knoxville, where we went into camp on the south side of the river, on a hill overlooking the city of Knoxville. Here we had a beautiful camp laid off, and took young cedar and pine trees and bordered all our streets. The wind had a fair chance at us, so we had plenty of fresh air.
There were some Ohio heavy artillery men in Fort Sanders on the opposite side of the river from us, and some of Company "K" boys paid them a visit one day, and found in their ranks two men that had deserted from Company "K" some months before.
When the boys brought the word back to camp that they had found the deserters, Lieutenant Pine sent over a file of men and arrested them, and had them brought back to the company. Poor fellows, I suppose they were afraid to stay home, and were afraid to come back to the regiment after being away so long, and not knowing what else to do, they enlisted in the Heavy Artillery, little dreaming, I suppose, that they would ever see the old Fiftieth again, but it seemed to be so ordered that they become, as it were, our next-door neighbors.
After laying around camp awhile under arrest, they were put on duty, and became good soldiers; one of them met his death afterwards at the Battle of Franklin, Tennessee.
While at Knoxville, I received word that my mother was lying very sick, and was not expected to live.
Lieutenant Pine at once wrote me out a furlough, and Colonel Strickland approved it, but when it was presented to General Sco- field he wrote on it, "Disapproved," "For the present." That
71
IN THE FIFTIETH OHIO
settled the furlough business with me, but at the time I was afraid I would never see my mother again this side of eternity, but I am glad to say she got well again, and lived to see the close of the war, and she had the joy and happiness of welcoming her soldier boy home again.
There was at Knoxville at this time a camp of soldiers, com- posed, I will say, of odds and ends of different regiments. They were a tough set-all guilty, I presume, of some wrongdoing, as they were kept under guard, and made to work on the fortifica- tions. Our boys did not crave the job of standing guard over them. I am glad to say I escaped that very unpleasant duty.
"Knoxville, Tennessee, March 24th, 1864. "Beloved Parents :
"I seat myself this morning for the purpose of conversing a short time with you through the medium of the pen. I always esteem it a pleasure to devote some of my leisure moments in thus conversing with those who watched over me in my infancy, and on up till I reached the verge of manhood.
"I often think of how far short I have come of repaying you for all the worry and care you have bestowed on me in the past ; not only that, but when I have been standing on the lonely picket post. or lying awake in my tent in the long hours of the night, my mind had wandered back to many little acts of mine that had caused you sorrow and pain.
"Sometimes these things were done in the heat of passion; at others, they were done thoughtlessly on my part, and while I know that long ago you have forgiven me, and blotted them from your memories, yet the knowledge that I was guilty of them rankles in my heart like a thorn in the flesh, and I am led to exclaim with the poet :
" 'Backward, turn backward, oh time, in your flight,
Make me a boy again, just for tonight.'
"O! if I only could live over my boyhood days with the knowledge that I have now, what a different life I would live, but the past cannot be recalled. I can only improve the present, and whatever little of the future God shall see proper in His wisdom to permit me to enjoy, God help me to improve the talent and the time he allots me to live a better life, shall be my constant prayer.
"And I know that your prayers ascend up daily to a throne of grace, asking that a Heavenly Father's protecting care shall be thrown around me, and this knowledge shall strengthen me to meet the temptations and trials along the pathway of life with a brave and unfaltering courage.
"I received your letter of the 13th yesterday, and was agree- ably surprised to find it filled with writing material, of which I have been sadly in need for the past month; but our wants were all relieved on the 19th by the arrival of the long-looked-for pay-
72
SERVING UNCLE SAM
master, who paid us four months' pay. Out of this I sent you forty dollars. This was the best I could do for you at this time. Keep in good heart.
"Down here a great many of the citizens draw all they eat from Uncle Sam, but I hope you have not come to that point yet.
"The Fiftieth is camped at present south of the Tennessee . River on a high hill, overlooking the city of Knoxville.
"Colonel Strickland is in command of all the troops on this side of the river. We are still at our old employment, building fortifications.
"We have a nice camp here; we have our streets all bordered with evergreen trees, which gives it a very cheerful appearance. We draw full rations, so have no complaints to make in that line. We are all fat and 'sassy' as young bucks.
"We are building two forts here that will be hard for the 'Johnnies' to take if they remain away till we get them finished. Here is hoping they will never get back here in force again.
"They did have General Burnside in close quarters here at one time, but our boys bravely stood them off until Longstreet heard that Uncle Billy was on the way here; then he thought it was time for him to crawfish, so he backed into Virginia.
"Day before yesterday snow fell here the depth of six inches, but it has about all disappeared, only in the mountains. Last night, though, was a real cold night; the ground froze solid, but it will soon be April now ; then we can begin to look for better weather.
"We are now said to be in the Fourth Division, Third Brigade, Twenty-third Corps. A tell-a-lie-gram over the grapevine says Twenty-third Corps is ordered to Texas, but I think we will go to Georgia before many days, for trouble is brewing down there for somebody, if I don't mistake my guess.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.