The next day, the 24th, I started out to make a personal inspection,
taking Thomas and Smith with me, besides most of the members of my
personal staff. We crossed to the north side of the river, and, moving
to the north of detached spurs of hills, reached the Tennessee at
Brown's Ferry, some three miles below Lookout Mountain, unobserved by
the enemy. Here we left our horses back from the river and approached
the water on foot. There was a picket station of the enemy on the
opposite side, of about twenty men, in full view, and we were within
easy range. They did not fire upon us nor seem to be disturbed by our
presence. They must have seen that we were all commissioned officers.
But, I suppose, they looked upon the garrison of Chattanooga as
prisoners of war, feeding or starving themselves, and thought it would
be inhuman to kill any of them except in self-defence.
That night I issued orders for opening the route to Bridgeport--a
cracker line, as the soldiers appropriately termed it. They had been so
long on short rations that my first thought was the establishment of a
line over which food might reach them.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31