Guarding the Road to Chattanooga: The 84th Indiana on September 19, 1863

Indiana at Chickamauga

In part one of the 84th Indiana at Chickamauga series, Thomas Addington, then serving as a private in Co. A, describes his regiment’s efforts to hold their position on the Union far left defending the army’s road connection to Chattanooga on Saturday, September 19, 1863.

In a fight that developed that morning near Peavine Creek, Addington said “just after crossing the creek, we began to hear scattering shots from our skirmishers, replied to vigorously by the enemy, while spent balls began to drop in our midst. Hurrying forward, we took up a position behind the fence where we had laid the night before. Here we waited for our skirmishers to fall back into line; we did not have long to wait. They soon came straggling through the weeds and briars with which the fields were overgrown. A bluecoat would be seen to pop up, fire at the approaching foe, then drop down among the weeds and continue his retreat. Arriving at the fence, a final shot would be fired and then over the fence and down into line would go the daring soldier.”

This account first saw publication in the May 21, 1885, edition of the Weekly Toledo Blade as part of their "Camp Fire" series featuring soldiers' accounts of the Civil War. 



The morning of September 19, 1863, rose clear and cold, everything was crisp and white with frost. When the first streaks of dawn were just showing in the east, word was quietly passed along the bivouac line and we silently fell in and took up the line of retreat. One and half miles back on the Rossville road stood the Pisgah Church, on old structure on the west of the road surrounded by open woods with slight swells or low wooded hills in the rear. Here we halted, formed in line just back of the church and at right angles with the road. We stacked arms and built fires to warm our benumbed limbs and to prepare breakfast. Camp kettles and skillets (the first in the form of tin cups, and the latter of sharpened sticks) were called into use and soon the woods were filled with the tempting odor of broiling bacon and steaming coffee while jest and song and merry laughter were heard on every side.

David Parshall Demree was born near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1838 and moved to Dublin, Indiana with his family in the late 1850s. He joined Co. C, 84th Indiana Volunteer Infantry in August 1862 and was appointed corporal. Wounded in the Battle of Chickamauga, he later transferred to the Veterans Reserve Corps in May 1864. Corporal Demree was prominent in both the G.A.R. and temperance efforts in the late 1800s and passed away in 1909 as the result of an operation. Census records indicate he worked as a house painter and wall paper hanger post war. 

          Our rude breakfast over, volunteers were called for and from the many who responded, three were selected as scouts and sent forward with instructions to advance cautiously and learn as much as possible as to the strength and position of the enemy. You will remember that on the preceding night we lay on our arms on the north side of a farm, a short distance south of Peavine Creek with the enemy about one-fourth of a mile distant in the edge of the timber south of the same farm. Here our scouts found them in force and after sending a volley into their midst, they made good their retreat in safety to their regiment where they arrived about 10 o’clock.

          From the report of the scouts and from the demonstrations on the 18th, it was evident that we were confronted by a large body of Rebels, and yet General [Walter C.] Whitaker divided the small force under his command and sent forward two regiments, the 40th Ohio and the 84th Indiana, holding back the 115th Illinois and 96th Illinois and the 18th Ohio Battery as a reserve. The command of the little handful of men sent forward was given to the colonel of the 40th Ohio [Lieutenant Colonel William Jones] who detailed Cos. C and F of the 84th Indiana as skirmishers and sent them forward, following up with the remainder of the two regiments.

          Just after crossing the creek, we began to hear scattering shots from our skirmishers, replied to vigorously by the enemy, while spent balls began to drop in our midst. Hurrying forward, we took up a position behind the fence where we had laid the night before. Here we waited for our skirmishers to fall back into line; we did not have long to wait. They soon came straggling through the weeds and briars with which the fields were overgrown. A bluecoat would be seen to pop up, fire at the approaching foe, then drop down among the weeds and continue his retreat. Arriving at the fence, a final shot would be fired and then over the fence and down into line would go the daring soldier. One, a boy of 16 summers who had come as a recruit only two weeks before, came in thus and took his place by my side and yet that boy, fresh from his peaceful home, had been in the skirmish line and right in the very face of the enemy.

Brig. Gen. Walter C. Whitaker

          And now the order passed along the line, “Keep cool and aim low. Make every shot tell, fire at will as you see a chance.” Every man of the two regiments laying in the laps of the worm fence or standing behind trees, loaded and fired as coolly and as deliberately as if they had been firing at a target with no enemy in view. But the murderous balls were doing their terrible work and all around men were falling dead or wounded. For one terrible hour, these two regiments bravely confronted a whole division of Longstreet’s veterans and held them in check. But the force against us was overwhelming; we were flanked both on the right and the left while at least double our number were pressing us to the front. To remain longer meant death or capture. There was nothing for us but to fall back and when the time came, we did not stand on the order of going but went with a will. The two wings were sweeping round to close up in the rear of us when we ceased firing and started for the gap yet open as fast as our legs would carry us. Run? Yes, we did run, otherwise we would not be here to tell of it today.

          The colonel of the 115th Illinois [Colonel Jesse H. Moore] had heard the firing a mile and a half away and without waiting for orders, he called his men into line. “Boys,” said he, “the 40th and 84th are in trouble out yonder; we will go and see them through it. Forward!” Just as the last of us were crossing the creek, we came up on a sweeping trot with the men at his heels on the run. Saluting the officers, he inquired “Where do you want my regiment? Where shall I fall in?” As no officer could find his tongue just then, a private in the ranks responded, “Right along the bank of this branch, colonel.” This hint was at once acted upon. Instantly, the men wheeled into line along the margin of the little stream where they were completely hidden from the approaching Rebels by a thicket of bushes in the rear and of briars on the opposite bank.

          “Steady men, hold your fire till you get the word, then shoot to kill.” The words were low and quiet but they evinced a terrible purpose. On came the yelling and triumphant horde, tearing through the thicket of briars. Silent and watchful stood our panting men, each with his finger on the trigger, ready for the word. 

Colonel Jesse Hale Moore led the 115th Illinois Volunteer Infantry throughout the war and was awarded a brevet promotion to brigadier general in May 1865. 

        And now the line of graycoats rose above the briars not a dozen rods away. Raising himself in his stirrups, the colonel thundered forth one word which was heard clear and distinct above all the noise and confusion: “Fire!” Such a volley I never heard before or since from one regiment, and perhaps greater execution was never done by an equal number of men. Every rifle appeared to speak at once and every ball to go straight to the enemy. Instantly, the yelling demons stopped in their mad charge; then imagining themselves drawn into a trap, they turned and fled precipitately. It was fortunate for us that they did so; had they pressed on, they could easily have captured three regiments.

          The pursuit being thus checked, our retreat was continued in a better order than in which it had begun. At the old Pisgah Church, we met reinforcements that were coming to our assistance. Here we halted and a line of battle was formed just back of the position occupied by our brigade in the morning. We watched and waited, monetarily expecting an attack. But the day waned and night set in with no further demonstration on the part of the enemy. Throughout the day and far into the night we could hear the roar of artillery far to the right where the sanguinary conflict was raging in all its fury. Our position for these two days was on the extreme left, guarding the approach to Chattanooga by the way of Rossville and Missionary Ridge.

To read part two of Thomas Addington's memoir of Chickamauga, click here to read "And This is Glorious War? The 84th Indiana on September 20, 1863"

Source:

“Granger’s Reserves at Chickamauga,” Private Thomas Addington, Co. A, 84th Indiana Volunteer Infantry, Weekly Toledo Blade (Ohio), May 21, 1885, pg. 2

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