Rain Falling Fast and Mud Deep: A Tullahoma Campaign Journal
Sergeant French Brownlee of the 36th Illinois never explains how he kept his journal during the rain-soaked Tullahoma Campaign in June-July 1863, but one gets the sense of the ebullient spirits of his regiment in the midst of a miserably uncomfortable march.
On June 27th, the regiment marched about 20 miles "but were kept on our feet for 15 hours. Part of the time, the sun shone hot and others the rain fell in copious showers. We camped for the night in an orchard. The 36th boys came into camp singing “We are going home to die no more.” A few days later while crossing the a ford of the Elk River, Brownlee observed "the current was rapid with water to the armpits with cartridge boxes on the end of our rifles. The boys halloed and shouted “This is all for the old flag.”
Sergeant Brownlee’s journal entries concerning the Tullahoma campaign first saw publication in the July 31, 1863, edition of the Monmouth Atlas published in Monmouth, Illinois. During this campaign, the 36th Illinois formed part of the First Brigade (General William H. Lytle) of General Phil Sheridan’s division of the 20th Army Corps. Sergeant Brownlee would not survive the war, succumbing to disease at Chattanooga, Tennessee Christmas Day, 1863.
Our division marched on the 24th of June, a portion of our part of labor in the forward movement of the Army of the Cumberland. We took the Shelbyville Pike, at first dusty, but soon the heavy rain converted the dust into mud. Marching seven miles, we halted in close proximity to heavy skirmishing and an artillery duel between Granger’s corps on our sides and the Confeds at Liberty Gap. Being rear guards, we took no part in the affair. But after remaining a few hours, we filed left and pursued our march for the Manchester Pike, the rain falling fast and the mud increasing in depth. We camped in a wet bottom, using pine twigs to keep out of the mud during our slumbers and cedar rails for fuel.
June 25: We remained at the same place, Brannan’s division passing amidst a very heavy rain.
June 26: Resuming our march this morning with the rain pouring down in torrents, we marched three miles and had a pretty hillside for a camp and straw to sleep on.
June 27: Our march was resumed early in the morning, but such roads! Wagons fast in the mud, wagons upset, roads blocked. The infantry marched as we had done on the previous days, through fields, yards, and gardens without regard to persons. Five miles brought us to the Manchester Pike. Here we got in sight of the pontoon train and were admonished that “big things were on hand.” Two or three miles brought us to Hoover’s Gap, a strong position. We were greatly surprised that the Rebs made such slight resistance where the natural advantages were so great.
Filing right during a heavy rain, we left the pike, taking a dirt road for purposes to us unknown. This afternoon, for the first time in Tennessee, a lady cheered by waving her handkerchief as we marched by, one of my comrades remarking “You protect my property and I will shake the flag.”
We arrived at Fairfield in the
afternoon [Page is indistinct] a skirmish took place here, the second brigade of
our division participating. The 36th Illinois loaded at will and by
filing left was thrown in the advance with the right company deployed as
skirmishers, but nary a gun was fired and nary a Reb spied.
Resuming our march, we passed through
the first clover field we had noticed in Tennessee, filled with swine, horses,
and cattle proving conclusively that the country is adapted to clover. This day’s
labor was severe, many soldiers falling out of the ranks through fatigue. We
marched 18-20 miles but were kept on our feet for 15 hours. Part of the time,
the sun shone hot and others the rain fell in copious showers. We camped for
the night in an orchard. The 36th boys came into camp singing “We
are going home to die no more.” But why recite our marches to the conservatives?
Not a dollar of their money can we get of their money to assist in relieving
our sick and wounded soldiers.
I noticed two ladies crying this afternoon as we marched along the road and supposed they had lost or relative or friend. But the next morning I ascertained it was only a couple of horses. I suppose these ladies approximate the feelings and opinions of Northern conservatives who have no tears to shed for their distracted country.
Colonel Nicholas Greusel, 36th Illinois |
June 28: A march of seven miles brought is to Manchester, rain falling fast, mud deep, the roads almost impassable. We crossed two branches of the Duck River, the smallest branch spanned by a bridge 210 feet in length. Two companies of Rebels had been left to guard and destroy these bridges, but by a flank movement, these companies were taken in out of the wet and the bridges saved. Manchester is the county seat of Coffee County, containing an old courthouse, a great many decayed buildings, with but few neat residences. Our division, from this place, occupied the advance.
June 29: Leaving amidst the heaviest rain, continuing the greater part of the afternoon, we marched seven miles and camped in a dense piece of timber. In the evening there was sharp firing by the pickets and the 36th took a position on the picket line.
June
30: The last of
June we lay in camp. Our thoughts went back to the Stones River engagement. The
fact that six months ago today the regiment lost 45 killed and 163 wounded. On
that fatal morning [Page indistinct] sincere Christian and honest citizen,
Sergeant McClung fell, a sacrifice to his country. We were sad. Tullahoma the
enemy may hold but seven miles from us and the solemn thought that some of our
number will fall and who or how many is known only to God reverted through our
minds.
We thought of a letter that a young
sergeant of Co. C received shortly after the Stones River battle from a
resident favoring a disgraceful peace and calling the soldiers home, giving
that sergeant no encouragement for supping on grapeshot the evening of the 30th
standing by the side of a tree for six hours on picket as a rest through the
night; breakfasting on Minie balls administered by a brigade of Rebels on the
31st of December 1862.
But while we were musing thus, we remembered that our patriotic governor, the soldier’s friend, had prorogued the representatives of this class of citizens just as they were meditating mischievous things in their minds. All honor to the gallant Yates.
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Orderly Sgt. Orison Smith Co. E, 36th Illinois |
July 1: About 11 o’clock, we received orders to march. We had proceeded but a short distance when we received intelligence that Tullahoma was evacuated. The day was hot and sultry, the road narrow, timber on each side. The rays of the sun were piercing. We were all deceived in Tullahoma. The fortifications were strong- more rifle pits than we expected to see and hundreds of acres of timber felled to obstruct our advance. We were much surprised to find such a small place and poor site. The only redeemable feature was a fine spring of water and a nice creek to bathe in.
July 2: Reveille at 3 in the morning. We soon started in pursuit of Bragg but were brought to a halt at Elk River, the bridge being burnt. Filing left, we took a meandering route three miles out of the way, crossing at a shallow ford by wading. The current was rapid with water to the armpits with cartridge boxes on the end of our rifles. The boys halloed and shouted “This is all for the old flag.” We all got over safe. Our regiment was on picket, our company deployed as skirmishers, but no enemy was discovered. Having been put on half rations, many of the boys had nothing to eat.
July 3: The
day found us early on the march in pursuit of the retreating foe. Five miles brought
us in view of Winchester and the enemy in line of battle. One company of the 21st
Michigan and our company were deployed as skirmishers. We deployed through one
of the largest dewberry patches I ever viewed. The boys were hungry; the berries
large and thick, delicious, and tempting. But there is a prospect for Minie
balls being hurled at us. [Page indistinct] merely imitating the off side ox in
the prairie team, bend down without stopping, and get some of the largest
berries.
Fearing our skirmish line, the Rebels
made a hasty retreat, thus causing us to lose a shot at the Rebs and the
dewberries. Crossing a large stream, we soon took possession of Winchester at a
“right shoulder shift, arms.” This is a pretty place. One of the ladies
remarked as we passed through town, “Oh, the poor Confederate troops, how they
will suffer!” We made a short halt- the rain falling fast, but soon resumed our
march. The Rebels made a stand a short distance from town on the banks of a
large creek. But we soon dislodged them and a few of the 39th
Indiana were wounded.
Plunging through the stream and
ascending the banks, a painful sight presented itself to our view. A boy of 16
had been shot by one of our sharpshooters of the 21st Michigan at a
distance of 600 yards. The parents were Union people. The aged mother exclaimed
with tears running down her cheeks, “My son was always in for the Union. His
last words were ‘hurrah for the Union!” Pursuing our way, we arrived at Cowan’s
Station and camped on the ground occupied by Bragg’s forces in the forenoon.
Bragg, by burning bridges and felling timber in connection with the heavy
rains, made further pursuit for the present impractical.
The health of the boys is good. Our company left Murfreesboro with 43 and of these, all but one are fit for duty. We have been down the railroad to Anderson’s Station 15 miles distant. The railroad is but little damaged. I had the pleasure of performing picket duty one night in Alabama. The mosquitoes made free use of their bills for the first time during my enlistment.
Source:
Campaign
diary from Orderly Sergeant French Brownlee, Co. B, 36th Illinois
Volunteer Infantry, Monmouth Atlas (Illinois), July 31, 1863, pg. 2
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