Chatting Up the Enemy: An afternoon among the Rebels

     In the closing days of August 1863, the Army of the Cumberland spread out to cover the fords of the Tennessee River preparatory to the jump across the river that culminated in the Chickamauga campaign. With the two armies in such close proximity, clashes between the opposing picket lines were a frequent occurrence, but surprisingly, truces often quickly developed and the men took the opportunity to trade and talk. Confederate tobacco for Yankee coffee was the most common trade, but the men also traded newspapers, trinkets, and most importantly, army gossip. 

Second Lieutenant Charles W. Hills, Co. A, 41st Ohio Infantry

    Second Lieutenant Charles W. Hills of the 41st Ohio Infantry was among the troops ordered to patrol these fords and likewise had his own visit with his opposite number. Hills' conversation with a Rebel major named Dale went well beyond trading tobacco for coffee; it appears the men had a good debate about the respective justice of their chosen cause. That the men of the two armies could battle so ferociously yet engage in such a free and easy exchange of banter certainly puts an interesting twist on our Civil War.

    Lieutenant Hills' account of this event was published in the October 22, 1863 issue of the Cleveland Morning Leader as an "Episode of the Chickamauga Campaign."

    A curtain of troops was thrown forward across Walden Ridge to guard the fords of the Tennessee, threaten the enemy from above, and cover the movement of the main army which passed swiftly down the valley to join the corps of McCook and Thomas already crossing at Bridgeport, Shellmound, and Falling Waters. The troops thus demonstrating along the river were commanded by General William B. Hazen, and comprised the infantry brigades of Hazen and George Wagner and the cavalry commands of Colonel John Wilder and General Minty. The utmost circumspection was necessary; and in order to impress the enemy with an exaggerated idea of our strength, all the buglers and drummers made repeated journeys to the river bank to sound tattoo and reveille.

    The 41st Ohio encamped at the foot of Walden Ridge. From the point two miles above, the view was magnificent. Standing in Tennessee, 1,600 feet above the river, one could overlook portions of Georgia, Alabama, and North Carolina while citizens asserted that the dim mountains scarcely visible up the valley were at Cumberland Gap on the Kentucky border. Directly east with their summits apparently lost in the clouds towered the great central range of the Appalachian system, known here by their local names of Smoky and Iron Mountains, marking the boundaries of the Carolinas. Summer was just passing into gorgeous autumn in the finest climate in the world. The scenery was sufficiently wild and picturesque to delight all, and the pensive beauty of the Tennessee Valley, visible for a hundred miles, would have inspired enthusiasm in a lover of pastoral beauty like Wadsworth or Irving.

    The isolated situation of our forces led to the establishment of signal posts to facilitate communication. While temporarily on this duty, an incident occurred forming a pleasing episode of my recollection of the Chickamauga campaign. I visited the cavalry at Igo's Ferry a few miles above Harrison. The enemy's pickets occupied the opposite bank and an agreement not to fire unless a crossing was attempted had been mutually agreed to, the sentinels of the rival armies lay listlessly regarding each other's movements.

    As I stood watching them through a glass, one of them, doubtless inferring that the bump of inquisitiveness was well developed in that Yankee, shouted to me to "come over and have a talk with the Major." That individual appeared, assured me that he commanded the detachment and that he would willing meet me in the middle of the river had he the means of crossing, and pledged his honor that I should return unharmed. Though not unmindful of the animosities engendered by the war, or of the terrors of Libby Prison, I yet determined to essay the chivalry and honor of the Confederates and venture over. An old dug out lay upon the bank; I stepped into this and was quickly in Dixie.

Unidentified Confederate officer

    A fine-looking young officer met me, shook me cordially by the hands, introduced himself as Major Dale of the 6th Georgia Cavalry, and invited me to a seat, begging me to banish all uneasiness. A constantly increasing group of interested listeners to the conversation then ensued. My entertainer showed the affability and politeness characteristic of the Southern gentleman. He was no weak-kneed or compulsory devotee of Mars, and gave me to understand that he was a fire-eater of the radical class. In response, I merely remarked that I was from the Western Reserve, from the immediate vicinity of the Giddings district. He was no disposition to quiz me in reference to the army or its movements, and I felt that it would be an unpardonable violation of the civilities of the occasion to propound questions that he would have scruples against answering.  However, it was east to detect traces of sarcasm and exultation in his manner as he casually inquired 'How is Vallandigham?' A suppressed titter among our Rebel audience disturbed my equanimity a little.

    He professed the utmost confidence in the ultimate success of the Confederacy, and remarked that a Vermont or Massachusetts Yankee could never again live in the same government with a Georgia or Carolina planter, and unhesitatingly acknowledged that they were fighting to establish a government that would recognize and foster the institution of slavery. Said he, 'The religion you profess upholds its, the history of the world attests to its justice, and your government will find to its cost that we can maintain it with the sword.' He invoked the aid of history to prove the impossibility of subduing a people united in a common cause, and as proof that a compulsory stay in the Union would result in dissension and unhappiness, remarked that Ireland, after her repeated efforts for independence, ending only in the death or banishment of patriots, would always remain and uneasy and refractory member of the British Empire.

    To all this I replied, charging the authorship of the war upon the South; professed an abiding faith in the justice as well as the final success of the efforts of the government to subdue the rebellion; alluded to the waning power of the Confederacy, and affirmed that disasters sufficient to overwhelm it would only serve to develop our resources. I disclaimed any similarity between the present war and our struggle for independence, and denied that in the beginning we aimed at the extinction of slavery but claimed that the inexorable logic of events pointed to its certain destruction. I argued that Ireland should have been independent of British rule for geographically and naturally they were two, while geographically and naturally we were one and quoted the old marriage service: What God has joined together let no man put asunder.

    I confess to a slight feeling of uneasiness evinced by nervous emotion as a party of horsemen rode down the bank. But the quiet and respectful manner of the Rebels was sufficient guarantee of the good faith of my entertainers. Bidding a cordial adieu to my courteous Bayard, I once more entered the dug out and shot swiftly across.