The consultation at headquarters wore on. Shortly after midnight, Rosecrans announced to his gathered lieutenants the plan that he and Thomas had developed. The army was to move at first light along three routes toward three separate objectives, that of the Right Wing being most distant. McCook would advance rapidly along the Nolensville Pike to Triune, twenty-eight miles away, where Rosecrans erroneously placed the majority of Hardee's corps. Thomas, meanwhile, would march within supporting distance of McCook's right along the Franklin and Wilson pikes, threatening Hardee's left as he moved. At the intersection of the Wilson Pike with the Old Liberty road he was to turn east and continue on the latter road until he reached Nolensville, thirteen miles north of Triune. Rosecrans assigned Crittenden the direct route to Murfreesboro, instructing him to march along the Murfreesboro Pike as far as Lavergne. Stanley, whom the commanding general directed to screen the infantry, divided his cavalry into three columns: Colonel Robert Minty's brigade (temporarily under the direction of Colonel John Kennett) was to precede Crittenden's infantry along the Murfreesboro Pike; Colonel Lewis Zahm was to ride ahead of Thomas with his brigade and dislodge the battalion of Confederate cavalry at Franklin, after which he was to move parallel to and protect the right flank of McCook; Stanley, meanwhile, would retain command of his reserve—consisting of the First and Second Tennessee and Fifteenth Pennsylvania, all feared to be unreliable—and screen the movement of the Right Wing along the Nolensville Pike.
Rosecrans's plan allowed for two contingencies. As soon as Thomas reached Nolensville, McCook was to move against Hardee at Triune. If McCook discovered Hardee to have been reinforced, Thomas would march immediately to support the Right Wing; if, on the other hand, McCook defeated Hardee or the latter withdrew without giving battle and Bragg chose instead to defend along Stewart's Creek, Crittenden would attack the enemy in front while Thomas came in on his flank and McCook—after detaching a division to observe or pursue Hardee, as the case warranted—maneuvered to get into the Confederate rear. The plan was sound. Its success depended largely on the ability of the cavalry to screen effectively and to provide accurate intelligence. Should Stanley fail, McCook and his exposed command might be faced with defeat in detail as they neared Triune in advance of Thomas and Crittenden.
Aides distributed brandy toddies as Rosecrans concluded his briefing. A few moments of levity were permitted, McCook facetiously suggesting that he “would be under the painful necessity of defeating his old friend, Hardee,” before Rosecrans slammed his glass on Garesche's field table and announced to the gathering: “We move tomorrow, gentleman! We shall begin to skirmish, probably, as soon as we pass the outposts. Press them hard! Drive them out of their nests! Make them fight or run! Strike hard and fast! Give them no rest! Fight them! Fight them! Fight, I say!” With that, the generals returned to their commands.6
Word of the impending movement spread rapidly through the camps. Orderly sergeants moved from tent to tent, peering in and announcing “reveille in the morning at four o'clock; march at daylight, with three days’ rations.” Corporal Ebenezer Hannaford and his comrades of Company B, Sixth Ohio, received the news with indifference. Like the rest of the army, they had been under marching orders for several days; Rosecrans had originally scheduled the movement for 24 December, only to postpone it to allow the forage trains of the Left Wing to complete their work. One unit did move that day, however. Negley's division advanced eight miles to Brentwood, secured the town, then pushed another three miles down the Wilson and Franklin pikes. No resistance was encountered, and the men bivouacked for the night.7
This activity did not go unnoticed at Murfreesboro. By Christmas night it was evident that a Federal offensive was imminent. Apparently satisfied with the disposition of his army, Bragg took no action, and nightfall found the Army of Tennessee aligned essentially as it had been since the first week of December. Polk's corps and three brigades of Breckinridge's division rested in winter quarters around Murfreesboro. The small brigade of Brigadier General John Jackson was on its way by rail to Murfreesboro from Bridgeport. At his College Grove headquarters near Eagleville, Hardee had with him the division of Pat Cleburne and the brigade of Brigadier General Dan Adams, on detached service from Breckinridge's division. Brigadier General S. A. M. Wood's understrength brigade remained at Triune, providing infantry support to the cavalry operating in the area. Brigadier General George Maney and his Tennessee brigade had been detached from Polk's corps for similar duty along Stewart's Creek, as was Dea's brigade, under the command of Colonel J. Q. Loomis, near Las Casas. Each of these brigades supported a brigade of cavalry. The cavalry was spread across the entire army front; all approaches were effectively screened to within ten miles of Nashville. On the left, Brigadier General John Wharton, operating out of Nolensville, had his picket lines extended southwest across the Old Liberty road from Nolensville to Franklin. To his right, Wheeler's brigade, bivouacked along Stewart's Creek astride the Murfreesboro Pike, covered the direct approaches to Murfreesboro. John Pegram patrolled the army's right flank northeast of town, screening the approaches from Lebanon.
As Christmas drew to a close and the hour of the Federal advance neared, patrols from the three Southern cavalry brigades sat quietly among the dark cedar glades along the roads leading from Nashville, alert to any indication of movement. They would not have long to wait.8
CHAPTER FIVE
TO MURFREESBORO
THE clear skies and warm breezes that for two weeks had lifted the spirits of both armies ended abruptly on 26 December. The morning opened ominously. Chill gusts swept down the valleys and swirled through the camps around Nashville. Low-hanging black clouds promised a winter storm. Union soldiers awoke to see a thick curtain of mist draw across their line of march; by the time they doused their breakfast fires, a driving rain had set in, accompanied by a harsh wind that blew steadily from the west.
At his Mill Creek camp five miles south of Nashville, McCook received a telegram at 4:30 A.M. directing him to advance. Movement orders were prepared and dispatched to the division commanders. At 6:00 A.M.—an hour and a half before dawn—the men of Brigadier General Jefferson C. Davis's division filed onto the Edmondson Pike. Although they could see little in the predawn twilight, what they felt underfoot was not to their liking. Already the rain was carving rivulets along the road, and the veterans knew that after the first regiments passed, the surface would be reduced to a soft, pasty ooze that would slow the advance to a crawl.
A daylong march was difficult under the best of conditions. The Union volunteer of 1862 bore a load seemingly calculated to make each step a challenge. On his back he carried a knapsack stuffed with extra clothing, underwear, a blanket, and such personal effects as he might elect to take to the field. A canteen and tin cup hung over the knapsack. Draped over his hip was a haversack with three days’ cooked rations—rations that were anything but appetizing: one pound of hard bread (known as hardtack in the Eastern armies), three-fourths of a pound of salt pork, a small bundle of coffee, a bit of sugar wrapped perhaps in paper, and a pinch of salt sufficed to keep the soldier alive during a day of active campaigning. Forty rounds of ammunition were carried in a cartridge box worn below the haversack. A rifle and bayonet with scabbard completed the load.1
Thus equipped, Davis's Bluecoats turned their faces away from the rain and set out. Already Rosecrans's Achilles’ heel, the cavalry, was threatening to disrupt his plans. While the infantry slogged along the Edmondson Pike, Stanley's cavalry reserve was still breaking camp in the rear. By the time his troopers appeared, the infantry and their trains had effectively blocked the road, and Stanley was unable to reach his assigned positions until after they had bivouacked for the night. Deprived of his cavalry screen, Davis was compelled to use his own small escort, Company K of the Fifteenth Illinois Cavalry, to reconnoiter ahead of the division.2
Despite the rain and absence of the cavalry, the march went well at first. Prim's Blacksmith Shop was reached quickly and without incident
. Here Davis turned east off the Edmondson Pike and onto “a rugged country road, rendered almost impassable by the incessant rain.” Moments later, the advance ground to a halt as Davis's mounted escort uncovered an outpost belonging to Wharton's cavalry brigade some five miles northwest of Nolensville. A spirited exchange of rifle fire followed before the troopers of Company K, leaving the road and galloping across the sodden fields, turned the Confederates’ flank and drove them through the cedar brakes toward Nolensville. The pursuit continued until the Illinoisans were within a mile of the town. Here they pulled rein. To their front, among the cedar thickets and overgrown fields on the outskirts of town, lay the remainder of Wharton's dismounted cavalry brigade and a battery of artillery. The Yankee troopers formed a hasty skirmish line and prudently awaited the arrival of the infantry.
Davis and his infantry appeared just as the rain was subsiding. A quick examination of the Rebel lines convinced the Indiana brigadier that he could take them unaided. Orders were issued, and the muddied soldiers deployed. Colonel P. Sidney Post marched his brigade to the left, Colonel William Woodruff led his to the right, and Colonel William Carlin remained astride the road. But Wharton's orders were simply to impede the Federal advance by forcing them to deploy repeatedly, and so, his mission accomplished, he retired through Nolensville before Davis sent forward his line of battle.
Wharton chose as his second delay position Knob Gap, a rocky defile that commanded the road to Triune. Under the cover of a two-battery barrage, Davis deployed again. This time he caught the Rebels napping. As Davis's men crested the surrounding hills, Wharton's troopers fell back on Triune in confusion, less one gun abandoned to the charging Federals. It was now nearly dark. Unwilling to drive his exhausted men further this early in the campaign, Davis gave the order to halt and make camp by the roadside.
McCook's other divisions had a less eventful day. Phil Sheridan's column had marched at 6:00 A.M. on the Nolensville Pike, followed closely by the division of Brigadier General Richard Johnson. Encountering only light resistance from scattered cavalry outposts, they reached Nolensville at 4:00 P.M. As Davis had already driven Wharton from Knob Gap, McCook directed Sheridan and Johnson to bivouac for the night outside town.3
To the west, Thomas's advance went unopposed. Striking their tents at 7:00 A.M., his infantry marched initially along the Franklin Pike to join Negley at Brentwood. Again the cavalry was nowhere to be found. By the time Zahm's troopers rode up, it was mid-morning and the pike was impossibly congested. Zahm fell in at the rear of the column, to bide his time until the infantry left the Franklin Pike at Brentwood. Meanwhile, another Federal command was without a screen.
Thomas's objective for the day was Owen's Store, just south of Brentwood on the Wilson Pike. Negley, in the lead, reached it handily. From there he caught the sound of gunfire rolling westward from Davis's engagement at Nolensville. Without orders, the impetuous brigadier pressed on to Nolensville over the same country lane traversed by Davis earlier in the day. Arriving to find Knob Gap clear and the fighting over, Negley bivouacked his division alongside those of Sheridan and Johnson. The division of Major General Lovell Rousseau, unable to follow Negley as the country lane to Nolensville had deteriorated to “the consistency of cream or very thick paste,” went into camp as planned at Owen's Store. Colonel Moses Walker's brigade remained at Brentwood.4
Zahm's cavalrymen had a busy day once they broke free of the infantry. With some 950 troopers, Zahm rode hard down the Franklin Pike, the Third Ohio in the lead. Two miles outside Franklin, they ran headlong into Wharton's pickets. A running skirmish ensued. Galloping through the streets of Franklin and across the bridge over the Big Harpeth River, the Ohioans pursued the Confederates two miles beyond town before they called off the chase and returned to Franklin, bringing with them a prisoner who told Zahm of Wood's presence in Triune. Zahm forwarded the information to Thomas before joining his men for the night on the Wilson Pike outside town.5
The cavalry gave a better account of itself in support of the Left Wing, although once again they were absent at the outset. Colonel Robert Minty was fortunate. He found the Murfreesboro Pike (Nashville Turnpike) less congested than other roads taken by the Union infantry that day and was able to join the lead division of Brigadier General John Palmer after only a short delay. Minty shook out his three regiments—the Third Kentucky to the left of the pike, the Seventh Pennsylvania to the right, and the Fourth Michigan astride the pike in reserve—and rode forward to screen the advance. Moments later, at the eleven-mile marker, his troopers surprised an outpost belonging to Wheeler's brigade.
Word of the incident quickly reached Bragg's cavalry commander at his Lavergne headquarters. Wheeler was astonished. This was the first report he had received of an advance along the Murfreesboro Pike, and the Yankees were now just two miles away. Leaving brigade headquarters, the youthful brigadier galloped to the front to have his worst fears confirmed: strung out along the pike and into the horizon were the several thousand Bluecoats of Palmer's division, removing any doubt that the Federals were advancing in force. Remaining with his vedettes, Wheeler dispatched a staff officer to bring up the command from their cantonment below Lavergne. Within minutes the grayclad troopers were wheeling into position along Hurricane Creek, a narrow stream that crossed the Murfreesboro Pike two miles northwest of Lavergne. There they dismounted and, with their commander, waited for the Yankees to make the next move.
Meanwhile, Minty had deployed along the opposite bank. Observing the line of Rebels in the woods across the creek, he directed Battery D, First Ohio Artillery, to open fire while couriers were dispatched to hurry along the infantry.
Palmer arrived just as evening twilight settled over the field. A brief reconnaissance revealed the Confederate right to be exposed. Anxious to strike a decisive blow before darkness put an end to the day's operation, Palmer ordered his lead regiments into action as they came on the field. To the left of the pike, Brigadier General Charles Cruft sent a hastily formed assault force composed of the Thirty-first Indiana and First Kentucky across the creek to turn the Rebel flank; on his right, the Ninth Indiana and Sixth Kentucky applied pressure simultaneously against Wheeler's left to divert attention from the crossing downstream. As the attack began, Wheeler's troopers became disoriented in the gathering darkness, allowing Cruft's assault force to splash across handily. After a brief but sharp struggle, Hazen's supporting units also succeeded in forcing a bridgehead on the east bank. Wheeler's cavalrymen, outnumbered and demoralized, fell back onto their mounts and into Lavergne. Palmer, no more willing than Wheeler had been to bring about a night engagement, called a halt along the east bank, his division a mere sixteen miles from Murfreesboro.6
It was now dark. From Hurricane Creek to Franklin, weary, muddied Bluecoats gathered around campfires to prepare their simple evening meals. On the march, cooking utensils were few: a tin cup, tin plate, and sharpened branch were all that the soldier typically took to the field. Salt pork was suspended over the fire on the tin plate or at the end of the sharpened stick; when ready, it was dispatched with hard bread and washed down with coffee.
On a clear night, the men might linger by the fire to discuss the events of the day or to speculate on what the morrow held in store. This evening, however, all attention must have been devoted to finding a dry spot on which to sleep, no easy matter as rain began to fall again at midnight—a fine, chilling drizzle that continued until morning. For many, a few cornstalks or cedar boughs and a gum blanket were all that were to be had. Few were as fortunate as the men of the Seventy-third Illinois, who had their “pup” tents with them. Consisting of two cotton or rubber “half-shelters,” the tents had been derided as kennels or dog holes at issue. But on this night, with storm clouds menacing, the men had to admit that their little shelters weren't so bad after all.
Officers also had to improvise. Captain Horace Fisher of McCook's staff considered himself lucky to find an empty tool box by the road. He crawled into it, and all was w
ell until the rain began and he discovered that his unorthodox shelter leaked badly at the hinges; by daybreak, Fisher was as wet as before he lay down.7
While the soldiers struck out among the thickets and fields in search of a bit of dry ground, Rosecrans and his staff made ready for the next day's operations. Orders were transmitted to Thomas, directing him to move Negley to Stewartsboro and Rousseau to Nolensville and to leave Walker on the Wilson Pike to cover the right flank of the army. Crittenden was instructed to advance on Stewart's Creek; should the enemy fall back on Murfreesboro, McCook and Thomas would join Crittenden in effecting a concentration there. Having heard nothing from the Right Wing during the day and fearing a clash with Hardee to be imminent near Triune, Rosecrans saddled up and, accompanied by a handful of staff officers and a small escort, rode from his field headquarters at Hamilton's Church in search of McCook.
It was a decision as rash as it was unwarranted—an exchange of staff officers could have accomplished as much at far less risk—but it was typical of the emotional Ohioan. War correspondent William Bickham, who traveled with Rosecrans, has left us an amusing picture of the general's evening ride. Heading southeast by way of “rugged narrow lanes and gloomy forests, upon unknown paths, which but an hour ago had rattled under the hoofs of Rebel horsemen,” the small party soon found themselves unmistakably lost. Rosecrans dismounted at a nearby dwelling (most likely the home of a Confederate sympathizer) to beg directions to Nolensville; he continued in this manner for some time, occasionally stopping at farmhouses for directions while generally groping blindly through the darkness. Finally, more by chance than by design, his troop emerged onto a ridge above Nolensville.
No Better Place to Die- The Battle of Stones River Page 7