CHAPTER XVII.

CAPTAIN POE’S CONCLUSIONS--PRESIDENT LINCOLN’S PROCLAMATION--GENERALS SHERMAN AND GRANT--INTERCESSIONS WITH GEN. FOSTER--BATTLE OF RESACA--INFLUX OF REFUGEES TO KNOXVILLE.

“What is the end of fame? ’Tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper.” BYRON.

“No more shall the war-cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red; They banish our anger forever When they laurel the graves of our dead! Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day;-- Love and tears for the Blue; Tears and love for the Gray.” F. M. FINCH.

Captain Poe, towards the conclusion of his official report to Gen. Burnside, has given a judicious estimate of the events just narrated. He says:

“The siege of Knoxville passed into history. If mistakes were made in the defence, they were covered by the cloak of success. That many were made in the attack was apparent to us all.[50] That the rebels made a great error in besieging, is as evident as it now is, that to accept siege at Knoxville was a great stroke of military policy. The results of the successful defence are, the defeat of Bragg’s army and consequent permanent establishment of our forces at Chattanooga, with tolerably secure lines of communication; the confirmation of our hold upon East Tennessee; the discomfiture and loss of prestige of the choicest troops of the enemy’s service.... Is there any man of that part of the army of the Ohio which was in Knoxville, who would exchange his nineteen days of service there for any other of the achievements of his life? Was there a regiment there which will not put Knoxville on its banners as they now bear Roanoke or Newbern, Williamsburg or Fair Oaks, Chantilly or South Mountain, Antietam or Vicksburg?”

The news of Burnside’s successful defence carried joy to Washington and to all friends of the United States everywhere. The President issued a proclamation concerning it, in which he spoke of the retreat of the enemy from before Knoxville “under the circumstances rendering it probable that the Union forces” could not thereafter “be dislodged from that important position.” He recommended that “all loyal people” should “on receipt of this information, assemble at their places of worship and render special homage and gratitude to Almighty God, for this great advancement of the National cause.” Congress joyfully thanked Burnside and his army.

Maj. Gen. John G. Foster, Gen. Burnside’s successor in command of the Department, was a wholly different type of man, and could not have sustained rivalry with Burnside in his characteristic lines of life and conduct. Nor was Foster at all emulous to excel him in that way. He sought to do his duty after his own fashion, and the fault-finding to a limited extent, with which his administration met, was largely due to the comparison civilians would silently make in their minds between him and his predecessor, to his depreciation, as the lesser of the two chief lights in their military firmament.

Gen. Sherman, who had arrived in town on December 6, remained only a few days. His freely active temperament was a subject of observation. He held himself in no severe restraint, such as a small official’s sense of dignity would impose. A young Unionist who had been driven from his home to take refuge in Knoxville, had some skill in portrait painting, and desired to copy a portrait of the deceased Bishop Otey of Tennessee that hung in the parlor of the house then occupied as headquarters. When he applied to Gen. Foster for a loan of the picture, Gen. Sherman heard the request and springing quickly to his feet, said:

“Bishop Otey! I knew Bishop Otey. Let’s go and see it.”

When the company had gathered before the likeness, he added--

“I must have that picture. I shall present it to Bishop Otey’s family.”

The young artist, looking intently at the speaker, said, with great _sang froid_--

“What is your name?”

“Sherman,” was the reply.

“_General_ Sherman?” he persisted.

“Yes!” said the General: and asked,

“How long do you want the picture?”

Being told, he consented to the loan, and in all probability forgot entirely that he had made it.[51]

Shortly after Gen. Sherman’s departure from the town, Gen. Grant visited it, and his reputation for unaffected simplicity of manner, was confirmed to those who formed his acquaintance. During an interview with him by a citizen, the conversation turned upon the siege. The visitor said:

“General, I understand that General Longstreet is loitering in upper East Tennessee.”

“Yes,” he replied, “I wish now that I had ordered Gen. Sherman to drive him out.”

This frank admission of a failure to do what ought to have been done, showed at least, that his head was not turned by the laurels won at Vicksburg and Mission Ridge, and that he was not morbidly sensitive about the perfection of his military judgment. If he had then known the full extent of the ills to the people of upper East Tennessee which Longstreet’s stay among them would inflict, the omission of the order to Sherman would have caused him greater regret; for that stay was prolonged for months. It was instrumental of much annoyance to the United States troops at various points, and Longstreet’s army, by living upon the country, contributed largely to bring upon its inhabitants the great destitution of food, from which they severely suffered in 1864-’65.

Gen. Foster had received a wound during the Mexican war, from the effects of which he still now and then suffered, and which furnished a convenient reason for his being refused to unwelcome visitors. Upon one very cold afternoon, two visits in quick succession were made to a citizen, by persons who sought his mediation with General Foster. First came a committee of Free Masons. A Kentuckian, who belonged to a Texas regiment, had been unavoidably separated from it at the time of Longstreet’s retreat from Knoxville, and he had endeavored to rejoin it through the country south of the Tennessee river. In doing this, he had unfortunately for himself, worn, in part at least, the uniform of a Federal soldier, and had also entered in his diary that he had represented himself as one, in conversation with a woman. He was captured while hiding in a hay stack, was brought to Knoxville, tried by court-martial and condemned to death as a spy. Strong sympathy was felt for him by resident friends of the Confederacy, and this was shared by the Free Masons, of which fraternity he was a member. A committee of that order desired the citizen they visited to intercede with Gen. Foster to reprieve the prisoner until further proof of his innocence, which they believed to exist, could be produced.

They had scarcely gone, when a regimental officer from Mississippi made his appearance. Longstreet, in going eastward, had left in a hospital at the paper mill three miles northwest of the town, a number of wounded men, among whom were officers Moody and Smith. The former was suffering from heart disease, which did not, however, prevent his really distinguished presence upon the streets. His remarkable stature and aristocratic physique crowned with a planter’s broad-brimmed hat, and his lordly bearing, combined to embody the idea which the natives entertained of “Southern chivalry,” and to attract special attention. He was said to be withal, a cousin of the Rev. Granville Moody, of the United States Army, and known as “the fighting parson.” The other Confederate officer was Major Smith, who because of his wounds, was still confined to his room in a private dwelling. On that day some rebel soldiers at the town had broken their parole, seized guns and absconded. In consequence. Gen. Foster had ordered that all other Confederate prisoners on parole should be arrested and sent to jail. This confinement Major Moody averred that he and Major Smith were physically unable to endure in such severe weather; and his request was that the citizen should intercede with the Commander-in-chief to still allow them liberty in the town. Equipped with this double errand, the citizen went on his way over the sleety pavements to that officer’s dwelling and said to the orderly who opened the door:

“I wish to see General Foster.”

“General Foster can’t be seen; he is sick.”

The citizen, at his own request, was then shown to the room of another United States Officer in the same house. There another visitor, General ----, had preceded him. He was evidently under the influence of potations from a bottle of strong drink that stood on the table near him, and soon the new comer’s refusal to partake of his spirituous devotions was resented by him with maudlin freedom and profanity. By and by came a knock at the door, and who should enter but the veritable General, who just before had been announced as too ill to receive a visitor.

Not long before, Gen. Foster had sent copies of a Proclamation by President Lincoln, to be distributed among the soldiers of Gen. Longstreet. The latter thereupon had forwarded a sharp letter to Foster, rebuking him for discourtesy, and inviting him to transmit such documents directly to the commander, instead of seeking to circulate them privily among the soldiers of his command. To that letter Gen. Foster had prepared an answer, and he proceeded to read it to the owner of the room, not probably without expectation of the high encomium which that gentleman gave it.

When a suitable opportunity occurred, the citizen sought to fulfill his mission, first by repeating to Gen. Foster the statement of the committee of Free Masons, and conveying their petition for a short reprieve to the young Kentuckian.

“No!” was the General’s reply, with knit brows and emphatic tone, “he must die.” And die he did the next day, on the gallows. Afterwards it was said that the execution might not or would not have taken place, had not Longstreet’s army, early in its retreat, hung a Union man, and left on a tree by the wayside his lifeless body, placarded with offensive words. Information of the young Kentuckian’s death, and of the Christian faith and hope with which he met it, was sent to Richmond, Ky., by a clergyman who was with him in his last days.[52] Although it was conveyed to his aged father and mother by their friend,[53] with all possible discretion, the sorrowful news almost broke their hearts. “But,” the ruthless politician may ask, “must not war as well as law, have both its just and unjust verdicts? Must it not have its revenges as well as its wrath?” If so, then let it stop altogether its destroying marches and strife, and cease from breaking hundreds and thousands of good old loving hearts by the untimely death of their sons? Why not?

Concerning the second subject of intercession with Gen. Foster, the imprisonment of Majors Moody and Smith, he was so far lenient as to consent that they should not go to the common prison, but be confined in comfortable quarters. Meanwhile, however, Provost Marshal General S. P. Carter, in consideration of their physical condition, placed them again on parole.

Following upon the return of Generals Grant and Sherman to Chattanooga, the defences of the town were still further strengthened, and it remained without serious disturbances from enemies until the end of the Confederacy. Once quite an alarm was raised in consequence of a rapid movement of Wheeler’s cavalry through the country and not far away from Knoxville, but the excitement soon subsided and order and peace prevailed as before. New conditions were attended by a hopeful vitality. Some of the officers stationed at the post during 1864-5 mingled freely in social intercourse with the citizens. Among these were Gen. Tilson of Maine and his staff; Gen. S. P. Carter, among whose aides was Capt. Thomas; Col. Gibson, Gen. Stoneman and Col. Ewing. Gen. J. D. Cox of Ohio impressed all who made his acquaintance, by his fine character and culture. An exhaustive list of officers worthy of mention would include Captains Whitman and Chamberlain of the Quarter-master’s Department, Medical Directors Jackson and Curtis, and Dr. S. H. Horner.

General Schofield succeeded General Foster in chief command. He administered affairs judiciously and impressed observers as a serious person, who understood the value of method in conducting business, whatever its relations to human life.

Late in April, 1864, Gen. Schofield was ordered from his post to join Gen. Sherman’s army in its famous march. Therefore, the Twenty-third army corps, under his command, leaving Strawberry Plains and Knoxville, arrived after a hard march and was concentrated May 2 on the Hiwassee River, near Charleston and Calhoun. That corps included several Tennessee regiments, viz.: the Third infantry, Col. Wm. Cross; the Fifth, Col. James T. Shelley; the Sixth, Col. Joseph A. Cooper;[54] the Eighth regiment. Col. Felix A. Reeve; and, soon after added, the first infantry, Col. R. K. Byrd.

[Illustration: GEN. JOSEPH A. COOPER.]

The “loyal mountaineers” of Tennessee who enlisted in the United States army proved their courage upon various battle-fields. No opportunity has heretofore occurred in this narrative, to say a word on that subject. The commendation which Gen. Burnside gave his troops, of course included the East Tennessee soldiers, who were a part of his command before and during the siege of Knoxville. The valor which animated them and their compatriots from the same region, was signally illustrated by the conduct of the above named regiments at the battle of Resaca. The army corps to which they belonged having been united May 2d, on the Hiwassee River, proceeded to the vicinity of Dalton, Georgia, before which place Gen. Sherman was arranging his lines for the first of the series of encounters with the Confederate army which he had on his way to the sea. Gen. Thomas on May 7th had a successful engagement at Tunnel Hill. Schofield’s corps--of which the Third and Sixth Tennessee regiments were a part--came into position on Thomas’s left, and occupied a steep ridge. On its side the men slept. The right wing and centre of Sherman’s army had advanced so far that on the 9th Schofield was ordered to extend his lines farther to the left. An East Tennesseean, who was then a Union officer and an actor in the scene, relates that Gen. Schofield, “forming his divisions in two lines of battle, with his right resting at the base of the hills, moved down the valley in the direction of the Confederate lines, entrenched behind earthworks. As these two long blue lines moved forward under the eye of the soldiers who covered the crest of the hills to the north, their hundreds of flags floating in the breeze and their bayonets glistening in the bright sunshine, a band began to play ‘The Star-spangled Banner,’ and cheers rent the air from ten thousand voices. It was a most inspiriting pageant and filled the men with the wildest enthusiasm.”[55]

Soon the skirmishing began, and was quickly followed by firing from the Confederate artillery, which continued during the afternoon, but did not prevent the Union column from moving slowly and steadily onward until when night fell, it was within a few hundred yards of the Confederate works. The losses of the day were not very heavy, those of the Tennessee regiments being perhaps a score killed and twice that number wounded. The men lay during the night with their cartridge boxes belted around them, greatly anxious of mind because of the nearness to each other of the hostile lines, and were compelled to feed upon such rations as were possible without kindling fires. The bayonet charge which they expected to make early the next morning was not ordered, for Gen. Sherman determined to flank General Johnson’s army and compel its surrender or retreat. To aid in that movement, Schofield’s divisions were quietly withdrawn--a few troops, horse and foot, taking their place--and were marched to the rear, from thence to pass around the Union lines to the neighborhood of Resaca.

Gen. McPherson had preceded Schofield and taken position, and on the 13th the Second division of the latter’s corps, commanded by Gen. H. M. Judah, and its Third division commanded by Gen. Jacob D. Cox, were formed into two lines of battle. The Confederate works were a few hundred yards distant, with a strip of woods intervening. For two hours there was skirmishing between the hostile forces. The Confederates, after being driven back, made a more stubborn resistance. Then at the word, “Forward!” the main line of the Union troops advanced with fixed bayonets. Soon they reached the crest of a ridge, in full view of their entrenched enemy and within range of his rifles. Twenty or more pieces of artillery opened fire upon them with grape and canister shot. The minnie balls they encountered fell thickly like hail-stones in a storm. Down the hillside to the assault they went at a double quick step. Their cheers, as they went, rose clear and strong above the din of the battle. At almost every step one man in every ten of them dropped from the ranks, which still pressed forward and at the base of the hill entered an open field. There a creek, parallel with both army lines, stopped their way. The trees upon its banks had been cut down, and presented a tangled mass which forbid their progress. To attempt a passage through it under their adversary’s heavy fire, would have been to incur a needless sacrifice of human life. Therefore they were ordered to fall back, and leaving many of their number up to their necks in the water of the creek, until night fell to their release, the survivors retreated across the ridge and re-formed.

The losses of the command were distressingly large. Of the two thousand men, First brigade, Second division, Twenty-third army corps, who went that day into action, between four hundred and fifty and five hundred were killed and wounded in fifteen minutes. In that brigade the Third regiment Tennessee lost one hundred and twenty-five: the Sixth Tennessee regiment was strangely preserved, its losses being only thirty.

The subsequent movements of Gen. Sherman’s army resulted in the evacuation of Dalton by Gen. Johnson, and during the night of May 15th, his forces around Resaca were withdrawn. The Confederate army, being forced from its first stronghold of resistance in the Georgia campaign, on the next day moved southward. The bloody battle of Resaca has been thought to be interesting to Tennesseeans from the fact that in it “the valor of Tennessee soldiers on both sides was displayed, was fully tested and found equal to the emergency.”[56]

At that date, the siege of Knoxville was fully numbered with the things of the past, and the possession of East Tennessee by the United States army had all the permanence possible in the circumstances. The country however, was in a sad condition. It had been the previous year, not only disquieted but impoverished, and in the winter of 1863-’64 there began an unexampled flood of immigration into the town from adjoining and eastern counties. It consisted not only of needy white people. Everywhere the negroes upon obtaining their freedom during the war, manifested a strong inclination for town life. On this occasion that disposition was sharpened by the hope of finding not only refuge from harm but necessary food. At first the stream of new, homeless, hungry population was small, but as confidence in the security and certainty of rest which Knoxville offered and of finding there the sufficient nourishment which could not be had at home increased, the tide of immigrants rose higher. It filled vacant tenements, and flowed into the rooms of the University buildings not already occupied by soldiers. The refugees came into town on railroad trains and lay all night on the uncovered depot platform, exposed to the inclemencies of the weather. The question which humanity as well as Christianity prompted was, what should be done with and for them. The calamity had many and deep sources, and threatened to grow with the lapse of time. It would inevitably be fed more and more from the large impoverishment that extended over a wide region, and for which there seemed to be no remedy. Its evil results, thus brought home to the very doors of the people of Knoxville, might be overcome in their present magnitude; but how should they be met in the future when full grown in size? The only feasible method was to send forth supplies from there to meet and overcome it. The sole yet fatal objection to such a plan was the absence of means to carry it into effect.

But God is good, and His mercy is over all His works. He had already put it into the heart of one of His servants to begin an enterprise that would by His blessing bring help from a distance to the needy people, more than a few of whom were ready to perish.

At that date war had wrought its ravages for more than three and a-half years. For a large part of that period, in some regions of the land, it had stayed the hand of the husbandman from industrious toil and prevented the fruits of the earth. In many instances the farmers’ barns were no longer, as formerly, filled with plenty, for the words of Joel, so ominously read in churches on the Sunday after the Baltimore fight in April 1861, had proved truly predictive, and plough-shares had been turned into swords. Multitudes of hearts everywhere from Maine to the Gulf, and from the Atlantic to the far West, were now yearning for peace. Had not enough blood been shed, enough human life sacrificed upon the altar of Mars? Might not Americans cease now from destroying each other and brethren be reconciled? Perhaps the night of desolation and sorrow was well-nigh spent and the day of peace about to dawn! And so it was, but men did not know it.

Soon kindly hands came in and healed where they could the wounds war had inflicted. They fed the hungry and clothed the naked, until by their industry they could feed and clothe themselves. It was a Christ-like work in which any man might be thankful to be engaged.