294 The Battle Of Chattanooga

THE BATTLE OF CHATTANOOGA In the words of

COLONEL JOHN ALEXANDER MARTIN 8TH KANSAS VOLUNTEERS A Talk Delivered in Chattanooga, Tennessee October 15, 2005 by Ernst F. Tonsing, Ph.D. Thousand Oaks, California A. THE 8TH KANSAS VOLUNTEERS AT WINCHESTER, TN.

The summer of 1863 dragged on for John A. Martin and the 8th Kansas Infantry, and the army settled down to boredom and blistering heat in a field in Tennessee. One of the 8th Kansas Volunteers, Robert A. Fredirich, of Topeka, Kansas, recalled the way in which the men occupied their time about forty-five miles west of Chattanooga: …We were paid at Winchester, then the fun commenced… The most popular of their many recreations—after pay-day—were the highly delectable games known as “Chuck-a-Luck” and “under 7 and over 7.” By these signs, thousands of dollars daily changed hands. I well remember one enterprising champ, who belonged to an Illinois regiment, of whom it is said that he sent home about $18,000 while he lay at Winchester, and this on the gouty salary of about forty cents a day…1 This monotony was interrupted on the Fourth of July by some encouraging news. Fredirich, wrote: The 4th of July ’63 seems but yesterday when I remember the joyous acclaims that rent the air, as regiment after regiment, brigade after brigade, and division after division being informed of that glorious message; “Vicksburg has surrendered!” “Grant has captured Vicksburg.”

1

Robert A. Fredirich, “Reminiscences of Chuck-a-Luck and the 4th of July ‘63—by One of Them.” Kansas Knight and Soldier, Topeka, Kansas, July 15, 1886, as reprinted in, Kansas and the Civil War, vol. 1, p. 119.

The army was simply wild with joy, because we all believed that the war was virtually over, and that within a few weeks, with the Union preserved, and Peace again Triumphant throughout the land, we would be on our way home. Hence our happiness knew no bounds. How well do I recall how the news was received by the 8th. An order was issued by Col. [John A.] Martin for the regiment to parade in front of his quarters: after we were in line, the Colonel came forth and read the telegram; after the boisterous shouts with which the news was received had subsided somewhat, he proposed three cheers and a tiger, for General Grant and his gallant army. It is needless to say they were given with a hearty good will. The jubilation did not stop there, however, as Fredirich, reports. With tongue-incheek, he recollects Martin’s contributions to the celebration: After this, some mysterious intimation got abroad that Uncle Samuel in his anxious solicitude to guard his nephews against the malignant influences of the miasmatic condition of the atmosphere, supposed to prevail in that particular portion of Dixie, had committed to the quartermaster’s care certain barrels of fluid, to be used purely and strictly for mechanical and medicinal purposes, and that the same could now be had, on proper application, with money and without price—well I am not going into details, but this much I think I am warranted in saying; the old army of the Cumberland got on a bender. It would be impossible as well as highly improper to say who of the 8th got drunk, but I can come very nearly saying who was sober. I maintain that the chaplain was sober, so was the officer of the day, because the army regulations demand that he must be, hence it was impossible for him to drink. The Colonel by the rules of war, is also inhibited from getting off his military base, so of course h[e] must have been sober. No man can be required to give evidence against himself, so I take great pleasure in writing myself as one to whom that the commissary whisky was an unknown quality. For fear that some other member of the regiment will rise up and say my name is Anannias,2 I will say that there were ten other officers and soldiers of the old 8th, who were perfectly sober on that day, whose names I will not mention. Therefore any one of the boys feeling aggrieved, will understand at once that I don’t mean him—he was one of the ten.3 And, so the month of July and part of August was spent.

2

Ananias was the husband of Saphira of Acts 5:1-6, in which both died after having lied. Robert A. Fredirich, “Reminiscences of Chuck-a-Luck and the 4th of July ‘63—by One of Them.” Kansas Knight and Soldier, Topeka, Kansas, July 15, 1886, as reprinted in, Kansas and the Civil War, vol. 1, pp. 121-2. 3

B. A BRIEF FURLOUGH. The newspaper, The Freedom’s Champion, notes on August 15th, 1863, that Martin is back in Atchison, Kansas: [To the great surprise and gratification of hosts of friends, Col. MARTIN, has unexpectedly arrived here last Saturday on a short furlough in the best of health and spirits. He has been for some weeks in the advance in the Army of the Cumberland, with his gallant regiment, and has seen very active and arduous service, but seems to thrive wonderfully, in the dangers and difficulties. It is now nearly a year and a half since Col. MARTIN left our city, and during this time he has been in constant service, a portion of that in the difficult and responsible position of Provost Marshal of Nashville, and since then in the rapid marches recently made by Rosecrans upon the rebels, which resulted in their defeat and utter rout.4] [The article continues:] The Colonel has only a furlough of twenty days, and therefore must soon return to his regiment. All who know him are well aware that he will return, not with regret, but with thanks that he has the privilege of aiding in crushing this cursed rebellion, and that it is not alone a duty, but a pleasure for him to fight in the good cause...5

C. THE BATTLE OF SAND HILL MOUNTAIN. Martin returns from his brief furlough to join the regiment in time for the crossing of the Tennessee River and the difficult ascent of a mountain in Alabama. He writes his sister, Bell, on August 30, 1863, “On top of Sand Hill Mountain”: Dearest Sister:I should have written to you immediately on reaching the Regiment, but we were very busy for a day or two, and I had not time before we marched. I found the Regiment at Stevenson, Ala., where I joined it on the 24th at 9 p.m. Found health generally good, and men in good spirits. The Regiment had made a march of three days from Winchester, crossing over the first range of the Cumberland Mountains.6

4

Freedom’s Champion, August 15, 1863, Atchison, Kansas, p. 2. Brackets [ ] indicate portions omitted in the oral delivery of the talk. Italic words will denote words inserted to complete the sense of the quotations. 5 Ibid. 6 Letter to Bell Martin, August 30, 1863.

[Martin writes a report to Washington, noting the dangers: We bivouacked for the night, and at daylight the next morning were ordered to cross the Tennessee river on pontoon barges and occupy the other side. The crossing was supposed to be a dangerous enterprise, as the enemy had pickets in plain sight on the further shore, and might be in force.7] Some of boats for this crossing were built rapidly of green lumber using raw cotton for caulking, but pontoons were prefabricated, consisting of wood frames that could be assembled on the spot. Canvas was then lashed to the gunwales around the hull to make rather un-seaworthy vessels. Martin expands his story as he writes to his sister: Only our Brigade and the Pioneer Brigade were along, the balance of the army remaining at Stevenson. The Pioneers had all the Pontoon Boats along, and worked silently all night getting them ready for launching. At daylight we were called up and ready. The boats were all manned by 25 men and one officer, and to our Regiment and the 15th Wis. was assigned the duty of crossing. We knew the dangers that lay in our path, for if our movements had not been concealed and a force of rebels were on the other side, many of us would fall. If they had had a battery there they might have sank every boat. But at a given signal the bushes in front were cut away; the men lifted the barges down the bank and into the water; they were filled in a moment, and the oars manned; the sharp=shooters8 were ready, and we crossed. We did not occupy ten minutes in pushing over, and the passage was made as silent as death. Not a shot greeted us. As soon as we touched the other shore we jumped out, and formed rapidly in line of battle. Skirmishes were thrown out, and some firing occurred between these and the enemy’s skirmishes, but we pushed forward to the foot of the mountains, about two miles from the river, with but little resistance.9 Martin recounts the difficult assault on this peak: There we received orders to occupy the top of the mountain, and pushed on, up one of the most difficult and the steepest road, I ever saw. The distance to the top was about 1 ¾ miles, and we made the ascent by 10 o’clock.10

7

Martin, report to Headquarters, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, 20th Army Corps, Chattanooga, Tenn., Sept. 28, 1863. Manuscript in the Kansas State Historical Society Archives, #15212. 8 The punctuation and spelling of the original letters will be retained in these transcriptions. 9 Martin, Letter, August 30, 1863. 10 Ibid.

For his “Military History of the Eighth Kansas Volunteer Infantry,” Martin describes the assault in dramatic terms: …the Eighth moved on, its gallant men toiling laboriously up the steep sides, until at 10 o’clock, almost exhausted, they reached the summit, and the regimental flag was unfurled from the top of a projecting rock. For the first time in long years the glorious Banner of the Stars waved there…11 They do not rest long on their mountain peak, but continue to Winston, Alabama, where he anticipates a move toward Chattanooga. [It is a beautiful valley between two ranges of the Cumberland mountains, and its location is in admirable contrast with the last camps, which were miserable. We shall probably push on to=morrow. The whole of McCook's Corps is camped in the valley or vicinity, and Stanley's Cavalry Corps is also here. This place is about fifteen miles West of Rome, Ga., and about twelve South of Anawacha, Ala.] It is probably forty miles South of Chattanooga. What the design of the movement is I cannot tell. Crittenden's and Thomas' Corps are closely investing Chattanooga, and we are apparently moving towards Rome. For what purpose I cannot tell,…We have confidence enough in the General to know that his plans are right, although we do not know what they are, and we feel sanguine of success.12 At the camp in Winston, Alabama, Martin has a photograph of himself and several of his officers taken. While at Stevenson an ambrotype artist put his tent down just alongside of us, and we had some pictures taken. They are good representations of camp costumes and rough campaigns, especially the one representing a dinner on the march. I send them to you. One is my own picture; the other a group of officers of the Eighth. The one on the right is Capt. Connover; the next Capt. Graham; the next myself; the next Capt. Trego; and the one on the left Maj. Schneider. If it does not get bruised coming through you will have a pretty good picture of a camp=dinner on the march; the dinner consisting of coffee and hard=bread. I hope it will get through safe.13 11

Martin, “Military History of the Eighth Kansas Volunteer Infantry,” in, Military History of Kansas Regiments, Report of the Adjutant General of the State of Kansas 1861-1865, vol. 1 (Topeka, Kansas, The Kansas State Printing Company, 1896), hereafter known as Military History, p. 121. 12 Martin, Letter, September 5, 1863. 13 Martin, Letter September 5, 1863. This photograph of the five men, Martin in the center holding a plate and knife(?) in his right hand, a cup in his left as Captain Trego pours from a pot, is in the archives of the Kansas State Historical Society, Topeka, Kansas, and is used here with their kind permission. Below the outstretched hand with cup of Captain Graham is a plate with a square of the “hard-bread.” This photograph is featured in the exhibit on Kansas in the Civil War in the Kansas State Historical Society Museum, Topeka, Kansas.

The adversities experienced by the troops are astonishing. Martin describes them in his letter from a camp near Alpine, Georgia: … we have not received a mail since leaving Stevenson, Ala. I have a few hours of leisure, and have borrowed some paper and ink, while I write on my knees. We have not seen our wagons for five days, and have had neither tents, bedding, or anything else since that time. We take our meals on the ground, without plates, forks or spoons; and they consist only of hard=bread, salt=pork and coffee. We have rarely had as hard a march as this, or as hard times. [Our present camp is 1½ miles from Alpine, Ga., and 18 miles from Rome, Ga. The rebels have evacuated Chattanooga, so it is reported, and are retreating South. Our whole Corps is here. Polk's rebel Corps is 13 miles distant.14] To compound Martin’s worries about his men, his younger brother, James, has taken ill, but he reassures his sister and parents in a letter from camp at Dug Gap, Georgia, of his confidence that he will return to health. We are here 19 miles South of Chattanooga. I can't tell where we shall go next. I am in good health. Jimmy was sick, and left back at hospital at Winston's. He came along sick, riding one of my horses, for some days, but finally the surgeon thought he had better stay back. He is only weak from a severe diarrhea, and the Surgeon says he will be well in a week or so, with rest. About thirty of our Regiment were left back with him. I think they will be sent to Stevenson, to the Field Hospital, from Winston's. We are expecting a battle here daily, but I cannot tell whether we shall have one or not. The rebels are in force on our front, and we are skirmishing daily.15

D. THE BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA. The anticipated battle comes, and it is one of the most terrible conflicts of the war—Chickamauga—the Cherokee words for “Dead Man Creek.” Only the contest at Gettysburg is more dreadful in terms of casualties and consequences for the war.16 Fought on two days, the first, September 19, 1863, is especially bloody, and on it the brigade commander, Col. Hans C. Heg, is mortally wounded. Martin, only twenty-four years old, then assumes command of the 3rd brigade of four regiments and a battery.17 14

Martin, Letter, September 12, 1863. Martin, Letter, September 18, 1863. 16 The estimates are staggering. The Confederate army lost some 2,312 killed, 14.674 wounded, 1,468 missing, for 18,454, 26% of its force of 66,000. The Union army lost 1,657 killed, 9,756 wounded, 4, 757 missing, for 16,170 casualties, also 26% of its force of 58,000. E. B. Long, The Civil War Day By Day: An Almanac 1861-1865 (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1971), p. 412. 17 John A. Martin, “His Army Experience,” The Kansas City, Kansas, Gazette, reprinted in The Champion, Atchison, Kansas (October 3[?], 1889). 15

The days before the fight the troops had marched back and forth, keeping the skirmishers of the two armies employed, but greatly fatiguing the soldiers. Then, on the 19th, at eight in the morning, they advanced eight miles to General Rosecrans’ headquarters in widow Glenn’s house. Martin writes in his Military History: As we neared Rosecrans’ headquarters a more terrible sound greeted our ears, the dull, heavy crashes of a dense musketry fire, rising and falling in sullen, resounding, deafening roars, like waves breaking upon shore…. Our line was moved forward firmly, until it rested along the brow of a small rise of ground. The Twenty-fifth Illinois was then ordered to a position in the front line. The crash of musketry grew denser and more terrific, and the artillery added its thunder to the furious raging of the battle storm. The rebels rushed forward line after line of troops, charging with desperate valor and impetuosity, but our men held their position firmly and defiantly, firing with such coolness and precision that at every discharge great gaps were cut in the enemy's lines, and bleeding, broken, staggering, they reeled before the awful hail of leaden death that greeted them. In vain they rallied and advanced again and again. They could not move over firm, unyielding lines. For half an hour this desperate struggle was thus continued. The carnage on both sides was dreadful. In that brief time over a third of our Brigade were killed and wounded, and still the frightful carnival of slaughter raged unabated….Bullets flew like hail stones, grape and canister, shot and shell, whistled and crashed through and over and around the devoted ranks, but the heroism of the men rose with the terrible grandeur and desperation of the awful battle, and they stood like walls of adamant18 before the fury of this storm.19 Martin gives a brief account of the conduct of the battle in his report to headquarters: Almost half the brigade was killed and wounded, but the remainder, falling back to a fence a short distance to the rear, held the enemy in check until reinforcements came up and relieved them, when they fell back across an open field, taking position in the edge of a forest behind a log barricade. What remained of the brigade I here re-formed with the assistance of Capt. Morrison, A.A.G. of the division, and again advanced across the field, taking our old position behind the fence…20 The battle is a disaster for the Union troops. Martin gives more details in his “History”:

18

Adamant is an imaginary stone of unbreakable hardness. Martin, Military History, pp. 123-124. 20 Martin, report to Headquarters, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, 20th Army Corps, Chatlanooga [sic], Tenn., Sept. 28, 1863, reprinted in the Champion, September 19, 1886. 19

But no courage, however sublime; no enthusiasm however magnificent, and no discipline, however perfect, could continue to resist the masses of fresh troops which the enemy was constantly hurling against these two small Brigades, fighting alone in the woods, detached from other portions of the army, and already bereaved of nearly half their numbers. The Division was finally ordered to fall back to a fence some distance in the rear, and facing the woods in which it had been fighting. Behind it was a wide field, and beyond this another strip of timber. On the edge of this several batteries were ranged, and with their aid the Division held the rebels at bay until late in the afternoon, when Colonel Bradley's Brigade, of Sheridan's Division, came up and relieved it. Our exhausted troops then fell back to the opposite woods, where a fresh supply of ammunition was obtained, and the men had an opportunity to rest for a brief time.21 The second day goes as badly when General Wood misunderstands an order and removes his troops from the center of the line to reinforce General Reynolds, leaving a gap through which the Confederate forces race. Only Colonel Martin’s small unit is left to face the onrush. He writes (in the third person): A fearful gap was made in our lines by the withdrawal of this large Division, and Colonel Martin’s small Brigade, numbering little over six hundred men, was ordered to move into it, on Carlin’s right. It was promptly moved as directed, and three regiments had already reached their positions, but the one on the left (Thirty-fifth Illinois) was yet filing into line when [Confederate General] Longstreet’s fresh troops charged over the rising ground in our front, four columns deep. Our men, who knew nothing of the fatal gap on their left, met this impetuous rush with determined, courage, firing with such coolness and directness that the the enemy's front line was almost annihilated, and broke in impotent disorder to the rear. The second line was also broken, and our troops were beginning to imagine themselves the victors, as they continued to sweep the remaining lines with a dreadful fire. Pollard, the rebel historian, in speaking of this attack of their forces, says that “the shock was terrible” that “never did Yankees fight better than just here,” and that “the Union troops stood as long as human powers of endurance could bear up against such a pressure.”22 In the face of such masses of opposing forces, “pouring in a terrific enfilading fire,” only death, capture or retreat were left. In a shower of bullets, Martin’s unit fell back, barely escaping. They were able to regroup and march back towards Mission Ridge, joining the divisions of Carlin and Sheridan. After a short rest, Martin’s brigade approached Rossville, reaching there at midnight. The next morning, the 21st, they built breastworks to defend themselves from an expected attack, but, when none came, they withdrew during the cover of night to Chattanooga, arriving at daybreak. 21 22

Martin, Military History, p. 124. Ibid., p. 125.

After the fighting on the banks of the creek of Chickamauga, Martin sends a terse cable to his father from Chattanooga: Myself and brother are safe. The Eighth lost fifteen commissioned officers and one hundred and ninety-six men killed and wounded. It fought gallantly.23 In case his letter does not get through after the battle at Chickamauga, Martin writes his sister from Chattanooga another report of the awful conflict. His brief letter tells of Martin’s harrowing close call from the hail of bullets during the fight: I telegraphed to you this morning that I and brother Jimmy were safe, but for fear the telegram does not go through I send again. My horse was shot under me, and I had two bullet holes through my blouse, but escaped without a scratch[.] Regiment lost 32 killed, 138 wounded, and 17 missing; in all 187. I send list in same mail to Champion.24 [Two days later, Martin communicates his relief at surviving the terrible slaughter at Chattanooga. His short, uneven sentences reveal the urgency of his situation.] [I telegraphed father a day or two ago that I was safe, as also was Jimmy. I also wrote to you at the same time, and also forwarded complete list of killed and wounded in 8th to Champion. Having an opportunity, I write again, for fear my other letters have not gone through. I am nearly exhausted. We are closely besieged here. Expect reinforcements soon. …. [The Regiment fought splendidly. Fight lasted two days. We were in the thickest on both days. Our total loss is 187 killed, wounded and missing, including ten commissioned officers. We hold Chattanooga, and have it strongly fortified. If reinforcements come as expected we will beat the rebels back. Rosecrans has fought the whole rebel army. They had two corps from Lee's army, all of Johnson's army, and large reinforcements from Charleston and all other Southern points.25] Martin writes in his history of the conflict: It was indeed a fearful day’s work. The roar of musketry never for an instant ceased, and at times it grew so dense as to drown the crashes of the artillery. The ground was strewn with the dead and wounded, and almost every foot of the shot-torn field was red with the crimson of loyal blood.”26 23

John A. Martin, telegram to James Martin, Freedom’s Champion (October 1, 1863), p. 3. Martin, Letter, September 23, 1863. 25 Martin, Letter, September 25, 1863. 26 Martin, Military History, p. 124. 24

From interrogation of the prisoners it was learned that the Confederate General, John Bell Hood, “was severely wounded directly in front of the Eighth Kansas, and his leg amputated on the field.”27 Martin tells John J. Ingalls, then in charge at the Champion in his absence: Our Regiment fought magnificently. No more sublime courage was ever witnessed. There was hardly a straggler from it, found in the rear. It has received the highest praise from the Division Commander, Genl. Davis, for its action. But at what a sacrifice!—the whole Regiment does not now look larger than two of our Companies used to.28 The exhaustion of Martin and his troops is evident as he writes in incomplete sentences, to his sister: Am well, but worn down with fatigue. Have barely slept an hour since Saturday, the 19th, the day the battle commenced. Jimmy is not well. The Governor of Kansas should send down surgeons and stores for our wounded and sick. We need them badly.29 Another soldier observes in a letter to the Leavenworth, Kansas, newspaper, the Conservative: Col. Martin exhibited great bravery, and has had some narrow escapes, as had all the field officers. Many of our most beloved comrades have fallen. We have been overpowered, having fought nearly two-thirds of the Southern army, but Rosy [Rosecrans] and his troops have determined to hold Chattanooga, and will do it.30

E. THE BATTLE OF CHATTANOOGA. After the battle of Chickamauga, Martin is confident of Chattanooga. He should not have been so sure, however, as the fight there, is just as desperate and the cost just as appalling. He writes in his Military History: On arriving at the town we were given two hours to sleep, cook and eat, and our brigade was then detailed for picket duty, occupying a line running along the irregular banks of the Chattanooga creek. During the morning we threw up a light line of rifle pits, half of the men working 27

Ibid. Martha B.Caldwell, ed., “Some Notes on the Eighth Kansas Infantry and the Battle of Chickamauga,” Kansas Historical Quarterly, vol. XIII, No. 2 (May, 1944), letter to John J. Ingalls (October 18, 1863), p. 143. 29 Martin, Letter, September 25, 1863. 30 Freedom’s Champion (October 15, 1863), p. 2. 28

while the other half watched. At noon we were relieved from this duty by Colonel Post’s Brigade, and returned to the main lines. An hour was given the worn and tired men in which to rest, and then they went to work to construct a heavy line of breastworks along their front. Until 12 o’clock that night this labor was continued, the men working with that energy which is stimulated by the presence of terrible danger, and when at last orders were given to cease, and that half of the command might sleep at one time, those whose turn it was to rest sank on the cold, damp ground, and in a moment were adrift in that dull, heavy and dreamless slumber which perfect exhaustion produces.”31 Yet, this description understates the deprivations of the soldiers: In his letter to his sister, Martin is more explicit: I write today only to let you know that I am well yet, and that we still hold this place, now so strongly fortified as to be almost impregnable. The rebels surround us on the South side of the river. Our pickets and theirs are only about forty yards apart. They talk together and exchange papers every day. Our Brigade is now on outpost duty, and will be on four days. We go on every eight days, and remain four. Day before yesterday the rebels shelled us from 11 a.m. until dark, and threw an occasional shell during the night. Their balls flew all over our works and all around us, but did no damage. Not a man in our Division was hurt. [I understand that three in Negley's Division were slightly wounded, but this is all. Bragg evidently gave it up as a bad job, as he has not renewed his experiment since.] One solid shot struck about three feet from me, during the bombardment. …. [All are in good spirits, although living on half rations. Our wounded are all getting on very well—most of them having been sent away north. You will undoubtedly see many at home soon, as they will all get furloughs.]32 Martin writes in his Military History that even the weather is against them: … to add to the severity of this hardship the weather turned bad; the humid clouds dropped low and flooded the flat, marshy ground where we camped with their contents; the winds came colder and colder with the breath of approaching winter, and the ill-clad men, with clothing almost constantly soaked with the rain, and shivering with cold that chilled almost to the bone, huddled, when relieved from duty, around the smouldering [sic] fires, or busied themselves in constructing little huts of the boards they could gather from the debris of the wrecked houses and dismantled

31 32

Martin, Military History, p. 130. Martin, Letter, October 7, 1863.

fields.33 But, that is not the whole of their suffering: Rations, too, grew scarce. The depot was nearly bare, and the sturdy mules of the army were dying by scores from want of food and the overtasking [sic] work of drawing loads of commissary goods from Stevenson—our nearest base of supplies—sixty miles away, and over two ranges of the Cumberland Mountains. Gen. Rosecrans issued an order cutting down the rations to one-third the usual amount, and prohibiting the sale to officers, no matter what their rank, of more than was issued to the private soldier…Cattle, almost dead from lack of food were killed and their flesh doled out in stinted quantities; the hungry and tired men haunted the slaughter houses in crowds, and snatched eagerly for the hoofs, tails, heads and entrails of the animals that were butchered, cooking and eating with avidity garbage they would before have shrunk from with disgust….The writer [Martin] has seen soldiers during that siege eagerly picking up the few grains of corn that had been spilled by the horses from their troughs, and trampled in the mud and filth under foot…34 [Martin describes the deprivations: [So to the horrors of bitter cold and scanty clothing, of hard work and almost constant showers, of danger and ever anxious watchfulness, was added the startling terror of want and the near approach of grim and gaunt starvation. The writer one day saw a commissary train which had just arrived from Stevenson, and was unloading at the depot, surrounded by several hundred half famished soldiers, who eagerly snatched at and struggled for the crumbs of crackers that fell into the road from broken boxes as they were being carried into the storehouse. Behind our camp was a park of artillery horses, and over them a guard had to be stationed to keep the half starved men from taking the poor rations of corn doled out to the almost famished animals.35] Chaplain to the Eighth Kansas Volunteers, John Paulson, says about Martin: Like a true soldier, he was tenderhearted as he was brave, and deeply sympathized with his wounded men. At Chattanooga, where many of his men were brought in wounded from the battlefield, he handed me a considerable sum of money from his private purse, with a request to purchase for them any little delicacies to be found in the city.36 33

Martin, Military History, p. 131. Ibid., pp. 131-132. 35 Ibid., p. 132. 36 John Paulson, “Tribute to John A. Martin,” The Ida Martin Memory Book (Kansas State Historical Society archives), p. 11. 34

F. THE SIEGE OF CHATTANOOGA. The month of November brings little change in the hardships for the Eighth Kansas Volunteers. Martin writes John J. Ingalls a story of a general who came down from Washington, D.C.: We are still on half rations, but hope to do better soon. I send you a small extract from B. F.[?] Taylor’s correspondence giving the amusing experiences of one of the Potomac Generals, who imagined Tennessee to be filled with splendid hotels and elegantly furnished restaurants, and whose stomach, filled with the dainty fare of Washington, revolted at the idea of ‘hard-tack’ and ‘sow-belly.’ To those who have experienced the discomforts of nearly a two-years’ campaign in Tennessee the anecdote is highly amusing and refreshing.37 Yet, despite all of the hardships of battle and camp, the morale of the Kansas troops is irrepressible. After a week, the Confederate artillery begins to fire from the heights of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, starting early in the morning and continuing until dark, day after day. The men, thus accustomed to it, soon grew to regard it with indifference, and worked on the fortifications, built their shanties, cooked their scanty meals, or crowded on top of the breastworks to watch the flash and smoke of the enemy’s guns or the effect of our answering shots, with that reckless abandon and cool defiance of danger which only those who have long looked death in the face can feel. Instead of dispiriting, it kept them in better cheer. A bad shot from the enemy’s batteries provoked shouts of derision, and an unlucky duck of the head at the whiz of a far off shell was saluted with running commentaries of that keen ridicule which veteran soldiers use with such saucy and yet good humored severity.38 At Chattanooga, Martin tells how the soldiers find cause for more “battlefield” humor during the capture of Lookout Mountain across from Chattanooga: A laughable thing occurred during the attack. A rebel brigade which was in reserve near the left of Hooker’s line stacked arms to await orders. The heavy firing stampeded some sixty of our mules near them, and the animals, with their harnesses on, ran directly towards the rebels. The latter thought it was a formidable cavalry attack, and without stopping to see, or long enough to get their guns, broke, panic-stricken, in every direction! Our men shortly afterwards found the guns (1100 stands) and recovered the mules. So the sixty Federal mules put a brigade of rebels to 37 38

Caldwell, letter to John J. Ingalls (November 6, 1863), pp. 144-145. Ibid., p. 57.

flight, and captured 1100 stands of small arms and without losing a single man! It is regarded as pretty good joke on the butternuts.39 Martin relates how the troops can even laugh in the face of great danger: Another amusing incident happened when our pontoon boats,40 filled with solders, went down. The rebels on the river above us have been amusing themselves for some time past by constructing large rafts of driftwood and floating them down stream to destroy our pontoon bridges. Their attempts, however, have, with one exception, been failures. On this night our men were all lying down in the barges, concealed.—Some of the boats floated very near the shore. The night was dark, but one of the rebel pickets discovered them. “What’s that,” he asked a companion. The other looked, and exclaimed, “that d—d Yankee pontoon bridge going down stream; our fellows above have floated a raft against it and knocked it away.” Some ten minutes later the boats landed, and the blue-uniformed soldiers sprang ashore. “It’s the d—d Yankees themselves!” shouted the picket, as he broke from the underbrush, making time unequaled by Flora Temple’s best.41 [The regiment is decimated, however, and Martin asks for Ingalls’ help in petitioning for it to return to Kansas to recruit enough to fill its ranks once more: [What can be done about bringing our Regiment back to recruit? We have not only 165 men for duty, and only 569 aggregate in the Regiment, present and absent. Most of the men will re-enlist as veteran volunteers, if the Regiment could be brought home for a month or so and recruited to the maximum…It has served in the South for over two years now; only ten months remain to complete its three years’ enlistment; it has suffered terribly from battle and disease, and is so far reduced as to be of little service here.42] Compounding Martin’s worries is his concern for his young brother, James. Usually well and keeping up with his unit, now some ailment lays him low. Jimmy was sent off to Nashville about two weeks ago. I had Dr. Chamberlain, our Surgeon, send him off, as there are few provisions for sick here, and there they have excellent hospitals and every possible 39

Freedom’s Champion (November 19, 1863). A pontoon is any flat-bottomed boat with a low freeboard used to support a temporary bridge. 41 Freedom’s Champion (November 19, 1863). Flora Temple was a “superstar” horse that ran her last race in 1861, after winning 92 races, placing second in 14, and breaking world records. Stephen Fosters song, “The Camptown Races,” commemorated her as the “bob-tailed nag.” Kevin A. Sives, “A Horse is a Horse, of Course, of Course,” Antique Bottle and Glass Collector’s Magazine, as reprinted at http://www.glswrkauction.com/039.htm (August 27, 20005). 40

42

Caldwell, “Some Notes,” letter to John J. Ingalls (November 6, 1863), p. 145.

attention[.] I have not heard of him since he left, as he has failed to write as yet. He was not very sick, but /only much debilitated by diarrhea. If he gets to Nashville, where he will have plenty to eat and good care, he will soon recover, so you need have no fears of him. [I do not know what Hospital to address a letter to him until he writes. The Hospitals there are numbered.43] Martin’s anxiety is justified, for an illness is as dangerous during the Civil War as a gory wound. He writes his mother from Chattanooga on November 14, 1863: Dear Mother:I telegraphed to father on the 11th the sad news of the death of brother, Jimmy, at Stevenson, Ala., on the 10th inst. He died in the Field Hospital there, of chronic Diarorha [sic]. He had been for a long time sick, but never so unwell as to be confined to bed before he left here. He was, before leaving here, in our Hospital under charge of Dr. Chamberlain, our Surgeon, and left here with a large number of others in an ambulance train, on the 24th ult. I hoped to get him through to Nashville and from thence home. The doctor thought he was improving rapidly, and only needed good food to be well, so I had him sent off….I received a letter from Jimmy, dated the 7th, telling me that he was very sick and did not expect to live long, and asking me to come to him, if possible. But alas, his spirit had already departed. I telegraphed father the same day, and also to Major Schneider, telling him to have brother's remains inclosed [sic] in a metalic [sic] coffin and sent home. It will be sad news to you all at home, who loved him so tenderly, and God help you to bear it with patience and resignation to His will. A soldier's life is full of dangers that are not on the battle=field, and oh! how many have cause to mourn the loss of all they hold near and dear. The Hospitals claim their victims more relentlessly than the enemy's bullets, and soldiers take their perils among the thousand others they brave for their country's safety. Hard and terrible as it is, and crushing as the sorrow must be, how many thousands in our broad land have made such sacrifices, and are making them every day. It is a fearful war, and the end is not yet. The death=angel has left his mark on every door=step, and still goes on. My love to all at home.44

43 44

Martin, Letter, November 6, 1863. Martin, Letter, November 14, 1863.

G. THE STORMING OF MISSIONARY RIDGE.45 Twelve days later, on November 23rd, General Grant arrives in Chattanooga and assumes command of the forces there. At noon, Martin’s brigade is ordered, along with General Sheridan’s forces, to line up in front of the breastworks. With the sound of the bugle, they are to advance “as rapidly as possible,”46 taking Orchard Knob, a small, round mound three-quarters of a mile in front of them, and the Confederate breastworks on top, and dig in to await the arrival of the rest of the forces. Fresh ammunition is issued, and the lines are formed. Martin describes what happens in his Military History: A moment later and the Brigade bugle sounded "Forward!" the regiment bugles answered it, swelling its clear, startling notes into the full volume of war’s most stirring music, and the first movement towards raising the siege of Chattanooga was commenced. Over the embankment and across an open field our brave boys poured with irresistible enthusiasm. The rebel rifles rang out clear and sharp, and the "ping" of their leaden messengers greeted the blue-coated column with their defiance and defence. They answered with a cheer and a volley as our men rushed on. The field was crossed, the woods beyond reached, and then for a moment a stubborn struggle ensued, and a deafening crash and roar followed, as the rebels strove to check this impetuous charge. But Kansas led the van that day, and the fighting blood of the old Eighth was at fever heat. The rebel horde could no more stem the torrent that struck them than they could check a bursting billow with a feather.47 The Rebels are surprised, ande, one–third of them being captured. But, Martin relates: … the heavy guns of Fort Wood let loose their thunders; the ugly whiz of their shells as they sped on towards Mission Ridge was answered by the still uglier whiz of those from the enemy, tearing and crashing through the forest overhead and around. But the fleeing rebels never stopped until they reached their reserves behind the line of entrenchments running over Orchard Knob. Here another struggle came; fierce volleys poured out, and a louder and denser crash and roar rose up, but with a ringing cheer our boys rushed on like a furious flood; again the rebel line faltered, broke and fled, and Orchard Knob was ours.48 But, Martin’s division does not stop there, and drive the enemy a hundred yards further, where the Rebels drive behind their second line of breastworks. Martin’s troops dig in as the Brigade comes up from behind and occupies the captured works. Martin writes: 45

Contemporary literature also call it, Mission Ridge, after the large school for the Cherokees built northeast of the mountain ridge. 46 Martin, Military History, p. 134. 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid.

The position gained was an important one, and its loss was severely felt by the enemy. Orders were at once issued to hold it at all hazards. It was in fair range of the batteries on Mission Ridge, as well as those in the valley, and the enemy at once opened upon it a most terrible artillery fire. The Eighth was relieved on the skirmish line shortly after the successful termination of its brilliant advance, and returned to the main lines at Orchard Knob. Furious was the fire now poured upon this position. Solid shot and shell thundered on to it and over it, knocking the stones in every direction, and making the boughs of the trees around it fly as before the breath of a hurricane.49 Martin writes from his headquarters at Chattanooga, Tennessee: Dear Father:I am very busy and very tired, so I can only write you a few lines. I telegraphed you yesterday of my safety, and the loss in the Regt. The 8th opened the fight on the 23rd, charging the enemy and driving them a mile and a half, taking and holding their first line of entrenchments. Our boys fought splendidly. They broke the rebels the first charge, and pursued them with such impetuosity that the foe never could rally again. We lost only three men in this day's fight. On the 25th, Hooker's forces stormed Lookout mountain.50 Their position at Orchard Knob is greatly exposed to Confederate arms, and the men hold on as best they could: From the front, and from far up and down the valley, the great guns vomited forth their fury. The men, however, had nothing to do but to keep under cover as much as possible, and so, lying on the ground behind the works, or hugging closely the trunks of trees, they waited until this iron hail had slacked in its furious peltings. It lasted but an hour or so, and fortunately the loss, terrible as was the fire, was slight, only five or six men in the Brigade being killed or wounded.51 However, they work to strengthen their position until about one a.m., building breastworks, and putting an abbatis, spiked logs, in front of them. One half of the men are allowed to sleep as the others keep guard. Martin reports: The morning dawned cold, dark and cheerless. At intervals during the day a drizzling, chilling rain fell, and the troops huddled around their half smothered fires, shivering with cold. The enemy kept up an irregular cannonading during the day, adding to the dreariness of the surroundings.52 It becomes clear to all that their location is extremely vulnerable. It is visible from the whole length of Missionary Ridge above them, and Lookout Mountain to the right and 49

Ibid. Martin, Letter, November 27, 1863. 51 Martin, Military History, pp. 134-135. 52 Ibid., p. 135. 50

rear of them. Generals Grant and Thomas bring forward their headquarters to Orchard Knob, and from there, command the troops arrayed around them. One more night in the valley below Mission Ridge is endured: Another night came on, and slowly wore away its chilly, dismal hours. Camp fires would have been comfortable, but they would also have afforded the enemy excellent marks, and they were prohibited. So the men shivered with the chill until dawn. The occasional whiz of a shell from Mission Ridge, and the usual rattle of skirmishing alone disturbed the stillness of the quiet night.53 The Confederate forces take the opportunity to reinforce their fortifications on Missionary Ridge. In the mornin, General Sherman makes an attempt to take the mountain, but is repulsed with great loss. What they face between them and the base of the ridge is a formidable battlefield: In front of our lines the Ridge, running parallel with them, was of nearly equal height for a long distance. Small promontories, however, jutted out into the valley at irregular intervals. On those points and in their centre the rebel batteries were posted. Between our position and the Ridge was, first, a dense wood covering a broken country; then a wide, open field, and then came a slight, abrupt rise of ground, on the top of which was a strong line of earthworks. Behind this was a plateau, probably a hundred yards wide, on which, until after our first advance, the rebel camp had been located.54 The ridge is just as daunting: Beyond this the Ridge rose, ragged, broken and steep, to the height of nearly five hundred feet. Its summit crowned by a line of entrenchments. From our own works to the top of the hill, every inch of ground could be covered with the converging fires of dozens of batteries, and from the edge of the forest in our front every foot of the way was within fair range of the more destructive muskets.55 In spite of this perilous situation, they are directed to move forward. At about 2 o’clock General Grant ordered General Thomas to advance his lines, and the troops were immediately formed in front of the breastworks. Our Division was directly before Orchard Knob, and our Brigade occupied the centre of the Division, which was formed in two lines.56 Instructions were delivered to the commanders of the units, that, … the six pieces of artillery on Pilot Knob would be fired in quick, regular succession, and at the sound of the sixth gun the whole army was to advance. At last the expected signal came. Simultaneous and clear 53

Ibid. Ibid., pp. 135-136. 55 Ibid., p. 136. 56 Ibid. 54

followed the orders of the regimental commanders —"Forward, guide centre, march!" and the lines moved off.57 Martin describes the tension: A few moments passed in silence. Then, through the branches of the leafless trees, we saw a bright flame leap out and a dull grey [sic] smoke curl up all along the summit of the Ridge; a crash like a thousand thunder claps greeted us; solid shot went screaming through the timber, and hurtling shells exploded above and around the lines, sending their scattered fragments shrieking through the air like a legion of demons. Without an order the line broke into a double quick —brave fellows, they knew the work before them was quick success or sure destruction. The rebel pickets, too, opened fire, but the puny crackle of their muskets was drowned in the terrific thunder of the heavier guns. Our men did not even answer their fire by a single shot, but with arms trailing or on the right shoulder pressed onward, leaping over the fallen timber and brooks and crowding through the briars and brush that lined the way, until they burst like a thunderbolt out of the woods and into the open field. Then from the whole line there rose a loud, hearty, ringing cheer, and on they swept. In the field the columns were caught in the fiercer fire and leaden sleet from the rebel line at the foot of the hill, and soon in the still deadlier volume of musketry from its summit. But there was not a waver or a pause in the stern advance nor a straggler from it. In a few moments our men were nearly across the field.58 Major General Thomas J. Wood, commanding the Third Division, Fourth Corps, Army of the Cumberland, writes a description of the battle [in which he notes that General Willich saw only three possibilities: “To obey orders, and to be shot without effective resistance; to fall back, or to charge.” Wood continues, [The second chance being out of the question,] I galloped with Lieutenant Green, of my staff, up to the Eighth Kansas, lying in line behind the riflepits. Colonel Martin commanded the regiment, seeing me, jumped on the breastwork, and shouted: ‘Here we are, General: what more?’ ‘Forward, storm; we have to take the works on the ridge,’ was the answer. The colonel: ‘Altogether, boys, forward; hip, hip, hurrah!’ Like one man the whole line, with one leap, cleared the breastworks, forward they moved, and the air was soon filled with the sound, ‘Forward! Forward!’ extending, more and more, right and left.59 57

Ibid. Ibid. 59 Thomas J. Wood, “The Battle of Mission Ridge and the Eighth Kansas,” the New York Times (July 18, 1876), reprinted in the St. Joseph Herald (September 22, 1886), in, Kansas in the Civil War, vol. 1, pp. 124-125. General A. Willick’s letter to Colonel Martin in the Kansas State Historical Society Archives (February 1, 1865), reads: “I can see you mounting the enemy’s breastworks at the foot of Mission Ridge, and calling to me, ‘Here we are General, what more?’ And my order to charge was answered by your shout, ‘Altogether [sic] boys, Forward! Hurrah!’ Your Regiment jumped upon and over the works as one man, and rushed forward irresistibly with the first line of the Brigade by all appearances to certain destruction. But, the day was won, and if Bragg’s army was not thoroughly annihilated, you, at least, did your share towards it.” 58

Remembering their defeat just a few days prior, they also shout, “Chickamauga! Chickamauga!” General Ulysses S. Grant remarked as he watched his soldiers storm Missionary Ridge without orders: "It will be all right if it turns out all right." He is also reported to have said: “Who ordered this? If it fails, someone is going to pay!” The units sweep forward without pausing, and continue up the steep slopes in face of the massive Confederate emplacements at the summit. Martin writes of the Eighth Kansas: Cannon shot tore through their ranks; musket balls were rapidly and fearfully decimating them; behind them, the dead and wounded lay thick as autumn leaves; before them, death was reveling in a whirlwind of carnage; but the lava-flood of battle pouring down upon them no more checked the grand advance than if it had been the softest rain of summer.”60 They don’t stop, and there is panic in the enemy lines: There was a break in the grey [sic] lines behind the rebel works; a few rushed to the rear, and with frantic eagerness began to climb the slope, but nearly all, throwing down their muskets, and holding up their hands in token of surrender, leaped to our side of the entrenchments and cowered behind them, for the hail of bullets now rained down from the hill was as deadly to them as to us. The first line was won, but behind it there not room for both forces, and seeing this Adjutant Washer, of the Eighth, dragged one of the prisoners from his place and ordered the whole of them to the rear. "You have been trying to get there long enough," he said, "and now charge on Chattanooga!" Off the fellows scampered towards the lines we had left behind.61 Their new position is just as indefensible: We had no directions to go beyond this line of works, and a brief halt was ordered; but it was instantly seen by every soldier in the ranks that no line could live there, ranked from every direction as it was by both artillery and infantry. Almost simultaneously several regiments moved forward towards the hill, and as if animated by a common impulse, all followed grim and silent, with compressed lips and eyes fixed on the goal before them, they breasted the fiery sleet of battle and commenced the steep ascent. From behind the rifle pits on the summit shot and shell rained down upon them in a ceaseless torrent, and the roar of the contest grew deafening. Owing to the nature of the ground all regular formations of lines were soon lost. Great masses of men, who had crowded together in the places easiest of ascent, were climbing the steep at intervals and rising in their efforts to be first.62 In the advance, the men of the various units intermingle so much that there is little organization in the breakneck rush forward. However, gradually, wedges or 60

Martin, Military History, p. 137. Ibid., p. 136. 62 Ibid., pp. 136-137. 61

triangles form behind regimental battle flags, and up the boys go: The progress was necessarily slow. Above, the summit of the hill was one sheet of flame and smoke, and the awful explosions of artillery and musketry made the earth fairly tremble. Below, the columns of dark blue, with the old banner of beauty and of glory leading them on, were mounting up with leaning forms, each eager with desperate resolution to be first.63 The bullets and cannon balls rain down on them unmercifully. Cannon shot tore through their ranks; musket balls were rapidly and fearfully decimating them; behind them, the dead and wounded lay thick as autumn leaves; before them, death was reveling in a whirlwind of carnage; but the lava-flood of battle pouring down upon them no more checked the grand advance than if it had been the softest rain of summer.64 But, this does not retard their progress up the slopes. [The writer] I saw a rebel column charge over a field at Chicamauga with desperate bravery and in the face of a deadly fire, but the men came on with faces averted and arms thrown before their heads, as when men protect themselves from the peltings of a hail storm. But at Mission Ridge our men looked death squarely in the face without a waver. Their eyes were fixed steadily on the blazing heights, and they moved forward with a courage as cool and devoted as it was sublime.65 A fierce rivalry even develops between the Union forces racing up the mountain: Our Brigade went up in the centre of one of the half-circular bends of the Ridge. On the right of us Hazen’s men breasted a point; to the left Beatty also had a headland. Between an Ohio regiment of Hazen’s Brigade, and one or two or ours that had their flags well ahead, there sprang up a fierce rivalry as to which should be first planted on the rebel lines. At last but a dozen yards separated the line of grey and the columns of blue, while the flags of the Eighth Kansas, Sixth and Forty-ninth Ohio and several other regiments were but a few yards from the red clay banks that were belching forth streams of fire and sulphurous smoke.66 The two armies then engage each other, and then one breaks away: With a wild cheer and a madder rush our men dashed forward, and for a few moments a sharp, desperate, almost hand-to-hand fight with bayonet and ball ensued. Before this resistless assault the rebel line was lifted as by a whirlwind, and borne backward, shattered, bleeding and confused. In quick succession half a dozen Union battle flags were planted upon the works, and in a moment more the foemen were hurrying down the hill on the opposite side and off into the woods beyond. Our men were about starting in pursuit, as, in the excitement of the moment, no one had 63

Ibid., p. 137. Ibid. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid. 64

observed how the attack on either side was progressing, but they were quickly reminded of it by the ugly whiz of cannon balls coming from the left and passing directly down our lines. The men were rapidly formed, and we were preparing to move down the breastworks to the left, while Hazen’s men did the same on the right, when suddenly the whole rebel line gave way.67 What followed is pursuit, then jubilation: Then followed a scene of tumult and confusions which baffles description. Grey clad men rushed wildly down the hill and into the woods, tossing away knapsacks, muskets and blankets as they ran. Batteries galloped back along the narrow winding roads with reckless speed, and officers, frantic with rage, rushed from one panic-stricken group to another, shouting and cursing as they strove to check the headlong flight. But all in vain. Our men pursued the fugitives with an eagerness only equaled by their own to escape; the horses of the artillery were shot as they ran; squads of rebels were headed off and brought back as prisoners, and in ten minutes all that remained of the defiant rebel army that had so long besieged Chattanooga was captured guns, disarmed prisoners, moaning wounded, ghastly dead, and scattered, demoralized fugitives. Mission Ridge was ours, and the victory brought all the results of perfect triumph.68 The Eighth Kansas Volunteers has much to brag about: The Eighth Kansas captured four pieces of artillery, five hundred stand of small arms, and more prisoners than it had men in its ranks. The regiment also claims to have planted upon the rebel breastworks the first Union colors that waved there.69 Martin’s report contrasts the length of the siege and its rapid conclusion. So, running through a period of two months and five days, ended the terrible siege of Chattanooga. The march from our lines at Orchard Knob to the summit of Mission Ridge occupied just one hour and fifteen minutes.70

H. CONCLUSION The spectacular push up Mission (Missionary) Ridge is one of the most sensational advances in the war in the West. The orders were to take the rifle-pits at the foot of the ridge only, and hold them. Once that ground was taken, however, the troops saw that this was an indefensible position. Martin summarizes the fierce contest with just a few words in his letter to his sister back in Atchison, Kansas, but modestly spreads the credit for the victory among other units there: 67

Ibid. Ibid., pp. 137-138. 69 Ibid., p. 138. 70 Ibid. 68

On the 26th, our Division and that of Sheridan stormed the heights and fortifications on Missionary Ridge, carrying them in face of a terrible fire; our Division capturing 25 cannons; over two thousand prisoners; 2,500 stand of small arms, and two battle=flags. The flag of the 8th entered the rebel works simultaneously with those of the 25th Ills and a Regt. of Hazen's Brigade, and these were the first planted on the rebel works.71 Yet, Major General Wood credits Martin with the honor of having first achieved the heights. He speaks of the courage of Col. Martin who commandeers the first available horse to lead his troops up the rugged, five to six hundred-foot cliff: So far as the fact of who rode up Mission Ridge is concerned, and who climbed up that mountain on foot in the face of those terrible storm of shot and shell, cuts but little figure in the face of the above testimony. But your correspondent has been informed by a private of Colonel Martin’s Eighth Kansas, that there were two men who rode up the ridge. And the circumstance is given in this wise: When the order came to take the works, Colonel Martin mounted his orderly’s pony, and in company with his adjutant, Sol. R. Washer, the two rode up together.72 At the end of Martin’s detailed report to the Adjutant General of Kansas on the conduct of the Eighth Kansas Volunteers, he pens a moving tribute to the men who fought with him. But if the writer lingers, as he is tempted to do, over this retrospect of recollections that can never be effaced, he will transcend the limit prescribed. He cannot, however, lay down his pen, nor bring this sketch to a close, without recording a tribute to the unflinching patriotism, the patient, calm endurance, and the magnificent courage of the private soldiers who followed the flag of the Eighth through the long years of its arduous service. [They represented nearly every branch of mechanical, agricultural and literary pursuits, and were men of many and widely different characters…they were inspired by a unity of spirit, a pure devotion to the cause of their country, a persistence against all obstacles, and a patience under all sufferings, that made their hitherto common lives glorious and grand. Their faults and failings were redeemed by noble disinterestedness, high resolve, untiring energy, and the most exalted courage. They might violate the strict letter of religious teachings, but they were never inspired by hypocrisy, nor selfishness, nor cowardice, and the homely truths of patriotism, honor and generosity they had learned by heart and daily exemplified]....War was to them no holiday parade, but a hard strengthening of will and nerve against the sterner vicissitudes of fortune, and fearfully earnest men they grew to be. No danger could 71 72

Martin, Letter, November 27, 1863. Wood, “Battle of Mission Ridge,” p. 125.

dampen their ardor, no repulse could shake their confident hope, no toil or suffering could for a moment perplex or obscure their faithful loyalty. Not nobler was the impulse which inspired our forefathers when Washington sent out his calls for men; not grander the spirit which moved the ragged Provincials around the camp fires of Valley Forge, than was that which thrilled their hearts with undying fire and nerved their arms with unconquerable strength. They suffered, but they never knew what it was to shine; they knew how to die, but never to despair or yield. Their spirit seemed to rise to the greatness of the events surrounding them. They recognized no will but duty; they loved their country with a deep, abiding affection; they dreamed of no delight but her service; they asked no reward but her triumph. In her cause hardships were welcome, for her flag dangers were laughed at; to save her life the humblest and the roughest of them would have cheerfully given his own. They rejected with contempt every idea that despaired of final victory, and scoffed at every suggestion of peace without union or tranquility, without a wholesome punishment for out-breaking treason and a stern vindication of offended law. Their patriotism was passionate veneration of the Republic; they loved its flag, and followed and upheld it with an eagerness and earnestness which had in it no vulgarity or common affection, and could not be simulated. With what exact discipline, with what dauntless courage, with what patient devotion, with what forgetfulness of the dearest home ties, with what confident hope and tenacious persistence the soldiers of this regiment marched and bivouacked, suffered and dared, through summer’s heat and winter’s cold, on the battle field and in the besieged city, in the face of hunger and pestilence, no one who was not with them can ever know, for the wildest license of language cannot describe it… Their toils and privations, their trials and dangers, have long since been over. “they need no praise whose deeds are eulogy,” and this tribute can add nothing to the splendor of their achievements.73 An historian, writing almost a century after the battle, penned this tribute to the soldiers who fought so courageously: Moonlight still glimmers on Chickamauga’s creek. The dark woods through which it winds are brighter for their memories of valor. Autumn mist still veils Lookout Mountain, mist that frames a shining vision. “Fierce, fiery warriors fight upon the clouds…”74 Now it is only the elements, with rolling thunder and bolts of flashing lightning, that storm Missionary Ridge, as gallant men did…[in] 1863.75 73

Martin, Military History. This is a quotation from William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 1, which Calpurnia addresses Caesar. 75 Quoted in, Pattrick Abbazia, The Chickamauga Campaign, December 1852-November 1863 (New York: Gallery Books, 1988), p. 173. 74