Picket Shots of Chickamauga from the Army of the Cumberland

In "Picket Shots of Chickamauga" I'll share some of the shorter stories provided by veterans of the Chickamauga campaign that might not be long enough to constitute a blog post on their own, but make for insightful reading. 

    In commemoration of the 162nd anniversary of the opening day of the battle, three accounts below give some perspectives from soldiers in the Army of the Cumberland, including Henry Dietrich of the 19th Illinois, Allen Fahnestock of the 86th Illinois, and Edward Molloy of the 87th Indiana. Tomorrow's post will feature three stories from their opponents in the Army of Tennessee. 

 

Brotherton Cabin

At the Battle of Chickamauga, I was a private in the ranks of Co. A of the 19th Illinois Infantry. I was one of the skirmishers sent out to feel the enemy. At the beginning of the battle, we advanced towards a clump of woods to draw the fire of the Southerners. We had to cross a field covered with stumps and piles of rails and a battery was stationed behind us to throw shells into the Confederate ranks whenever we should draw their fire.

          We had advanced a considerable distance when the Confederates opened on us. We took refuge behind the rails and remained there firing until the recall was sounded. The battery all the while threw shells over us and into the woods. When we were going back after the recall, I missed a young soldier named Metcalf. Looking back, I saw him kneeling behind a rail pike. Another soldier and myself, thinking he must be wounded, we went back to get him. We found that a short shot from our own artillery had literally blown off the top of his head but it had not caused him to fall. [The Illinois Adjutant General’s report states that Private Fred W. Metcalf was killed in action September 11, 1863, at Lafayette, Georgia.]

Private Henry S. Dietrich
Co. A, 19th Illinois Inf.

          On Saturday night September 19, I was on outpost duty. When relieved at midnight, I was thoroughly chilled. I went back toward my company and on the way came upon a soldier lying beneath a blanket. Not having a blanket of my own, I crept under his blanket quietly to keep from disturbing him. I did not awaken until morning. Then I turned to get a glimpse of my companion. He was a dead cavalryman and I had slept beside him thinking he, like myself, was only worn out from the day’s duties.

          The next day, on Sunday September 20th, I had my experience in terrific fighting. Our regiment that day occupied Snodgrass Hill, the key to the situation. There we remained until night. To make our position secure and afford us some protection, we tore down fences and log cabins and built a walk just high enough to hide us when lying down. Immediately behind us were the cannons. Men still back of the cannons loaded our guns and passed them to us and we reserved our fire for the charges which the Southerners repeatedly made. At one time I had five loaded guns beside me. When the enemy would come very close, we would fire these reserve guns as fast as we could pick them up and take aim. The cannons boomed right over us all the time and deafened several of the soldiers.  

Source:

“Incidents of Chickamauga,” Private Henry S. Dietrich, Co. A, 19th Illinois Volunteer Infantry, New Washington Herald (Ohio), December 18, 1903, pg. 12

 

Colonel Daniel McCook

The First Shots of Chickamauga

          There is no question in my mind as to who opened the fight at Chickamauga. Our regiment, the 86th Illinois, went out with Colonel Dan McCook’s brigade on the evening of September 18, 1863, to destroy Reed’s Bridge across the Chickamauga. Companies B and I of the 86th Illinois were on picket on the right of the Lafayette Road with Co. B under Captain [James P.] Worrell on my left and 20 men of the 52nd Ohio on my right. The much-talked-of spring lay to the left of Captain Worrell’s company.

          Lieutenant [Richard W.] Groinger of the 86th and myself took charge of our post that night as I was short of men. I told Private Jacob Petty of my company that evening that there would be a fight the next morning and said to him that if he shot a Johnny, I would buy him a plug of tobacco. The next morning at break of day, a Confederate cavalryman rode to our front. Petty saw him and asked Lieutenant A.A. Lee if he should shoot. Lee said yes. Petty fired and brought down his man and that shot opened the Battle of Chickamauga.

Capt. Allen L. Fahnestock
Co. I, 86th Illinois

          Soon after Petty’s shot, firing began on the left of Co. B at the spring. Captain Swift of Colonel Dan McCook’s staff had ordered me to the top of the hill to fight the enemy back to the brigade and Barnett’s battery. We carried out instructions to the letter but when we had driven the enemy to where the brigade had been posted, there was no brigade there. It had been ordered back as the enemy had crossed Chickamauga Creek above and below and now pressed my small force on both sides.

          About this time, General Thomas on my right or south of Reed’s Bridge, struck the enemy and the fighting became general. I claim that our brigade should have the credit of opening the Battle of Chickamauga and I contend that we closed it on the night of the 20th at Cloud Springs, to my mind the key to the Union position. Petty, who fired the first shot on the 19th, claimed his reward that evening. Lieutenant Lee notified me that Petty had got his man and wanted his plug of tobacco. Tobacco was scarce at the time, but I found a plug and paid $1 for it and sent it to Petty. The U.S. is indebted to me for that amount plus interest for 42 years.

Source:

“Memories of the War,” Captain Allen Lewis Fahnestock, Co. I, 86th Illinois Volunteer Infantry, Hocking Sentinel (Ohio), February 8, 1906, pg. 3

 


The Narrow Escape that Led to Capture

          The regiment to which I belonged, the 87th Indiana, suffered a loss of 51% at the Battle of Chickamauga. Eight commissioned officers were killed and others were wounded. The sight that morning just before the battle opened was worth seeing. The 87th Indiana stood in close column by division facing a piece of woods. Just as the battle opened, first a stray shot or two, then a roll of musketry, next the terrific roar of artillery.

General Rosecrans rode by with his staff and bodyguard, presenting a magnificent appearance. The general wore a sombrero and sat on his horse as if he were monarch of all he surveyed. Just in the rear of the commanding general was General Thomas and his entire staff, occupying a rising piece of ground. A shell flew over us and reached the ground over which Rosecrans and his grand cavalcade were passing, but not a man dodged. Presently, General Garfield, simply armed with a huge field glass, rode over to our regiment and inquired for General Brannan, the commander of our division. Adjutant Ryland replied, “General, I think he just rode into the woods,” pointing his finger in the direction indicated and that was the last we ever saw of any of those gallant generals referred to whose deeds of valor form such a conspicuous and thrilling portion of our nation’s history.

The morning of September 20, 1863, the 87th Indiana and the Confederates confronting the regiment fairly fired into each other’s faces. This is the united testimony of General Hazen of West Point and Colonel Vanderveer of the 35th Ohio who commanded the brigade our regiment was in at the time. General Hazen declared that he never before saw men fire in each other’s faces as he did at Chickamauga except at the Battle of Shiloh, but there bushes intervened between the lines while at Chickamauga, the troops of both armies fairly confronted each other.

          Those who remained with the 87th after the first encounter that morning stated unhesitatingly that the Confederates literally left the ground covered with their dead and wounded. It was a heroic struggle on both sides. The men of both armies stood their ground well. Judging by the loss of the 87th during that morning’s dreadful encounter and a casual glance at the depleted numbers as they started in pursuit of the Confederates, the 87th seems to have fairly melted away. The dead lay where they fell while the wounded sought some place where their injuries could be attended to.  

          As I left the regiment on the forenoon of September 20 by reason of being wounded in the leg, I beheld some wonderful sights. Just as I started, Pete Heminger of Mishawaka rushed past me and dropping on the ground exclaimed, “Oh, for God’s sake, give some water! I’m shot through and though!” The front of his blouse was covered with blood. The comrade who was assisting me, having no water in his canteen, I requested him to take my canteen and quench the thirst of the dying soldier.

          Wounded comrades were hastening to the rear from all sides. Presently, I encountered a commissioned officer who was skulking. Next, two horsemen approached me, one shouting at the other excitedly, “For God’s sake, bring back that flag!” Off to the left, the Union troops were retreating in great disorder, the men running like frightened sheep. It was evidently the time and place when and where the Confederates penetrated our lines, dividing our army. As I reached Chattanooga road, I beheld a perfect traffic jam of wagons, caissons, and ambulances. Shells were flying over Mission Ridge just to the left of the road and much confusion prevailed.

          I perched myself on the lower step of an ambulance but did not persist in remaining there as I deemed it hopeless to attempt to reach Chattanooga that way. So, I retreated into the woods after resting for a short time and tried to persuade some comrades who were playing cards to help me to the road I had just left. I thought it possible that I might procure passage to the city in some way not readily discernible, but the “brave” heroes ignored me completely, so I was compelled to do the next best thing- help myself, which I did by discarding everything but my canteen and haversack.

I walked quite a distance, although I was shot through the right leg just under the knee where the bullet narrowly missed an artery and both cords of the limb. But excitement kept me up till I reached a stopping place where the surgeon pronounced the leg wound a “narrow escape.”

That night I slept in bed with a dead man, First Sergeant Solomon E. Harding of LaPorte. He belonged to Co. G of the 87th and was twice wounded, one or both wounds being mortal. At any rate, he passed away at 2 a.m. after much suffering and when I awoke at daylight, he was cold in death. That morning I was captured, the Union troops having fallen back in the night leaving myself and the other wounded Union soldiers between the lines. I was on my way to Chattanooga when taken prisoner, the surgeons having advised all of us that could do so to try and reach that place. Before starting, I turned over all my rations to those left behind and the consequence was I nearly starved to death before being paroled and transferred to the Union lines.

There was no attention paid to the wounded by the Confederates and no provision made for supplying prisoners with food until the last two days that I was in their lines. Then something we designated as “slop” was issued to us. It was not thick enough for mush and too thin for gruel. I think it was made of bran and was cooked in large iron kettles used in the army. The prisoners were supplied with this three times a day. The kettles were passed around and you helped yourself by dipping your cup into the kettle as it reached you. Each soldier was allowed to dip his cup in only once during a meal. If you were so fortunate as to possess a large cup, you received a large cupful, otherwise not.

Source:

“One of the War’s Greatest Battles: Men Literally Fire Into Each Other’s Faces,” Private Edward Molloy (later Adjutant), Co. I, 87th Indiana Volunteer Infantry, South Bend Tribune (Indiana), May 22, 1912, pg. 4

To learn more about the Chickamauga campaign, please check out the Battle of Chickamauga page where you'll find more than 100 blog posts covering varying aspects of this important campaign. 

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