The 2nd Massachusetts Infantry's New York interlude gave the regiment a chance to heal its battle scars. Although officially Cogswell had some 400 men, only half of those were fit for duty. Capt. Henry Comey reported having a mere 24 men in his company (the remnant of Edward Abbott's A Company), yet was thoroughly satisfied. "It is the neatest Company in the Regt., and always had more pride than any other Company in the line."
Their return to Virginia did not herald an immediate resumtion of hostilities. The Federals sat quietly on the north bank of the river while the enemy occupied the south side. Comey learned that they were the regiment's old friends of Jackson's (now Ewell's) Corps. "We are on quite good terms now," he reported. "We are often times within talking distance, but we are not allowed to communicate, neither are the enemy, but there is now and then a paper exchanged slyly and jokes exchanged..." All that could change in an instant and both sides would be "cutting and slashing each other with all our might."
This was certainly the case out west where the Confederates scored a victory at Chickamauga on the 20th of September, after which Rosecrans withdrew to Chatanooga, on the banks of the Tennessee, where his army was now pinned down by Braxton Bragg, who hoped to recapture the city. As long as Rosecrans held the city, Confederate rail communications were seriously disrupted. It soon became clear that Rosecrans was in a bad way. Reinforcements from the Army of the Potomac were ordered west to join the Army of the Cumberland. The 11th and 12th Corps, numbering about 15,000 men were chosen. Their selection made a lot of sense to the old soldiers of the Army. The two corps had only been associated with the Army of the Potomac for a brief period. Some might even have argued that they never truly belonged at all, especially Howard's foreigners.
On the 24th of September, 1863, the 2nd Massachusetts Infantry bid farewell to Virginia, never to return until after the fall of Richmond in 1865. During the regiment's stay, it seemed to Chaplain Quint as if they had studied "every road, and every hill, and every water-course." And along the way, they had left "the graves of our dead heroes."
The 1,200-mile rail journey from Washington to Tennessee was unlike anything they had ever experienced. There were 20,000 men jammed into 600 rail cars. It was a long, tedious and cramped ride. Quint's pen could barely keep up with the miles. At Berlin, "the river mists were partially hiding the scenery." Then, Harper's Ferry reappeared, "with a new iron bridge." At Martinsburg, the men gratefully consumed vast quantities of proffered bread and coffee, and, as they passed through Hancock, the Chaplain observed "the first red leaves of the year." The country beyond he deemed magnificent, but equally gratifying were the "waving handkerchiefs from loyal little houses nestling among the hills." At Cumberland, a town hidden among the coal mountains, "the loyal crowds were heartiest."
The Ohio River was crossed on a pantoon bridge. On the opposite shore more coffee and bread--"the Western hard bread, which is better than the Eastern"--were awaiting their arrival. A delay at Zanesville afforded them the opportunity to enjoy a good breakfast and the luxury of washing off "considerable dirt into the waters of the Muskingum."
At Xenia, the men of the 2nd MA were greeted by women bearing meat, potatoes, eggs, pies, cakes, fruit and milk. When the ladies were asked what was owed, the reply was "Nothing. We are not Vallandigham people. We take no pay of soldiers!" For Chaplain Quint, this was food for the soul, and the "frank, hearty, warm-heartedness" of the Ohio girls "who ministered so freely to the wants of strangers" made his heart rejoice.
Quint thought Louisville one of the "best built and most charming" cities he had ever seen, and Kentucky itself a "delightful state." As the train proceeded through Tennessee it passed by the Stone's River battlefield. Finally, at Stevenson, the men tumbled out of the cramped cars and bivouacked on the soil of Alabama. In less than a week, the men and equipment of two corps, including 700 wagons and 5,000 horses, had been successfully transported. But their destination had still not been reached. Now they set off on foot.
Quint passed through Shelbyville with the regiment. He described it as "a very pretty, well built, enterprising town, strongly Union" whose inhabitants were still reeling from a recent visit by the chivalric rebel cavalry who had "robbed the citizens of clothing, money, and anything else they fancied." Henry Newton Comey was moved by the sight of the town's homeless and starving citizens. "It is hard to see children crying for bread."
On they marched, making the best time they could on the terrible pike road until well into the night when "in utter darkness and wet we tumbled off a perpendicular decent of four feet where they mean to build a bridge some day." At this point, said Quint, it was quickly decided that any further progression was unwise. "We had marched 18 miles that day, and after I had walked that distance with my overcoat and blankets, I rejoiced to learn from Surgeon Heath that there are 3 layers of skin." He also came to the conculsion that "the general conductiong the march ought not only to go on foot, he ought also to carry 15 pounds on his back."
The next day, the column made another 12 miles, bringing it to Christiana, where Quint came to the supplemental conclusion that the general conducting the march ought to go on foot and carry "twenty-five pounds on his back."
At Christiana, Lt. Col. Morse's tour of duty as Slocum's Provost Marshall came to an end and he returned to the regiment and to the first principles of campaigning: "hard bread and coffee out of a tin cup," and "sleeping under a shelter tent with no covering but my rubber cloak."
As the column continued its march toward Tullahoma, Morse was obliged to make the journey on foot, unitl a member of Gen. Ruger's staff scared up a mount for him. It was "an ancient Government animal which had been turned away as unfit for service." Morse mounted the beast with serious misgivings "that I should suddenly be lowered to the ground by reason of his knees giving way under him." This is just what happened when Morse urged him to a trot "but I stuck manfully to my seat and made him rise with me."
In spite of his sorry transport, Morse was better off than his bi-pedal comrades, especially when the brigade encountered a waterway appropriately named Crooked Run. They were obliged to cross it at least 11 times, said Quint, "to the great distress of artillery." The 2nd Mass spent the night in a nearby cornfield and before sunrise they rose to battle with Crooked Run another 16 times. Only at the 15th encounter did Quint report the dampness creeping into his boots. "It is due to the public to know that boots which kept feet dry in 11 crossings at night, and 14 in the morning, came from Foster & Peabody, Boston."
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