ht on the
cars. Early next morning the train started, and we soon arrived at the
little town of Burnsville, about fifteen miles southeast of Corinth,
where we left the cars, and went into bivouac near the eastern
outskirts of the town.

On the morning of the 19th, before daylight, we marched about two miles
east of Burnsville, and formed in line of battle, facing the south, in
thick woods, consisting mainly of tall pines. It was talked among us
that the Confederate pickets were only a short distance from our front,
and it certainly looked like a battle was impending. By this time the
military situation was pretty well understood by all of us. A
Confederate force of about eight thousand men under Gen. Sterling Price
was at the town of Iuka, about two miles south of us, and Gen. Grant
and Gen. Rosecrans had formulated a plan for attacking this force on
two sides at once. Gen. Rosecrans was to attack from the south, while
our column, under the immediate command of Gen. E. O. C. Ord, was to
close in from the north. Gen. Grant was on the field, and was with the
troops on the north. The plan was all right, and doubtless would have
succeeded, if the wind, on September 19, 1862, in that locality had
been blowing from the south instead of the north. It is on such
seemingly little things that the fate of battles, and sometimes that of
nations, depends. Gen. Rosecrans on the afternoon of the 19th
encountered the enemy south of Iuka, had a severe battle, and was quite
roughly handled. Only a few miles to the north was all of Ord's
command, in line of battle, and expecting to go in every minute, but
the order never came. So all day we just stood around in those pine
woods, wondering what in the world was the matter. As already stated,
the woods were dense, and the wind blowing from the north carried from
us all sounds of the battle. I personally know that this was the case.
There were a few cannon shots next morning, fired by a battery in Gen.
Rosecrans' column, and those we distinctly heard from our position, and
thought at the time they indicated a battle, but they were fired mainly
as "feelers," and to ascertain if the enemy were present in force. But,
as stated, all day on the 19th we heard not a sound to indicate that a
desperate battle was in progress only a few miles from our front.

Early in the morning of the 19th I witnessed an incident that inspired
in me my first deep-seated hatred of whisky, and which has abided with