During the evening most of the general officers called in to pay their respects and to talk about the condition of affairs.  They pointed out on the map the line, marked with a red or blue pencil, which Rosecrans had contemplated falling back upon.  If any of them had approved the move they did not say so to me.  I found General W. F. Smith occupying the position of chief engineer of the Army of the Cumberland.  I had known Smith as a cadet at West Point, but had no recollection of having met him after my graduation, in 1843, up to this time.  He explained the situation of the two armies and the topography of the country so plainly that I could see it without an inspection.  I found that he had established a saw-mill on the banks of the river, by utilizing an old engine found in the neighborhood; and, by rafting logs from the north side of the river above, had got out the lumber and completed pontoons and roadway plank for a second bridge, one flying bridge being there already.  He was also rapidly getting out the materials and constructing the boats for a third bridge.  In addition to this he had far under way a steamer for plying between Chattanooga and Bridgeport whenever we might get possession of the river.  This boat consisted of a scow, made of the plank sawed out at the mill, housed in, and a stern wheel attached which was propelled by a second engine taken from some shop or factory.

I telegraphed to Washington this night, notifying General Halleck of my arrival, and asking to have General Sherman assigned to the command of the Army of the Tennessee, headquarters in the field.  The request was at once complied with.

CHAPTER XLI.

ASSUMING THE COMMAND AT CHATTANOOGA—­OPENING A LINE OF SUPPLIES—­BATTLE OF WAUHATCHIE—­ON THE PICKET LINE.

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.