[1]Hon. Joshua R. Giddings.
[1]
Hon. Joshua R. Giddings.
CHAPTER IV.
Lieutenant Sherman in Fort Moultrie—The Fortress—The Mexican War—He goes to California—His Service there—Appointed Captain—His Marriage—Exciting Scenes in California—In the Commissary Department—Resigns his Commission—Turns Banker.
LIEUTENANT SHERMAN was next ordered to Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan’s Island, in Charleston harbor. Do you know the origin of that fortress and of its name? Six days before the Declaration of Independence was signed, there was a memorable battle and victory here, over the British squadron commanded by Sir Peter Parker. A post had been commenced, which, upon the appearance of the fleet was hastily completed, under the command of General Moultrie, a very brave officer.
General Charles Lee, the commander-in-chief at this post, urged Moultrie to abandon the works, because the men-of-war would soon blow them to pieces. “Then we will fight behind the ruins,” said the gallant leader of a band, who answered his bold words with a “hurrah!” The battle opened, and soon the American flag, which was then a white crescent on a ground of blue, went down. The spectators at a distance thought the post had surrendered. But no—the flag-staff was shot off, and Sergeant William Jasper leaped through the embrasure of the wall, and seizing it, restored it to its place on the battlements. He was a young hero, and his name is among those of the daring defenders of thefirstbanner of the Revolution.
In this fortress Lieutenant Sherman had an unexciting round of duty. But more active service was near. If you will turn to the map of the United States you will see that the boundary between Texas and Mexico on the south, runs northwesterly toward the Pacific Ocean, where lies California, bounded on the southern side by Mexico. When war followed the dispute between the United States and the Mexican Government about the dividing line, in 1846, it was necessary to have troops in California. With the forces sent to that new and thinly-settled region, Lieutenant Sherman went under the banner he loved with all the enthusiasm of his ardent nature. The fighting was principally done, you know, at Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Monterey, Molino del Rey, and a few other points far from the post of Sherman. But he did his duty in the ranks of the frontier-guard, and was off on recruiting service when those fierce battles were fought.
California had been for many years under the Government of Mexico. The people rebelled against Santa Anna, asserted their independence, but again submitted to the old authority. In 1842 its rich plains attracted emigration from all lands, which increased rapidly till war with Mexico was declared. General Fremont was there. A quarrel began between the Mexican people and the settlers. This was increased by the conflict of the two nations, which resulted in our establishing a territorial government. The whole was ceded to the United States at the close of the war for $15,000,000, and became a State in 1850. With the flood of population from many countries, before and after Lieutenant Sherman went there, lawlessness of all kinds prevailed. Gambling was a common business, incendiarism equally so, and justice was almost unknown, even in the Government. Men were shot in open day for giving offence; the people became alarmed, and appointed a vigilance committee, who took law into their own hands. Our still youthful officer opposed such assumption of power, believing in redress for wrongs through the constitutional remedies. And often since the civil war commenced has he beguiled the weary hours of camp-life by recounting the exciting scenes of those wild days of California life. He saw a calmer period of history there. The vigilance committee at length surrendered its power to the State Government, and California has taken her place among the noblest of our commonwealths, loyal to the flag in the darkest hour of strife.
California gold! You have heard of the mania for the mines it created all over our land when the boy now sixteen was in his cradle. But you may not know what a chance to make a fortune Lieutenant Sherman had in that territory—that he saw the smallbeginningof the excitement. He was dining, February 8th, 1848, with Captain Sutter, of Sacramento, who was building a saw-mill. The workmen opened a sluice to wash out the “tail-race,” when lo! there was gold in the sand. A specimen was brought into the room where the officers sat, and pronounced to be the precious particles, which have since attracted the fortune-hunters of every land under the sun. But the lieutenant quietly returned to his post, and left to others the great discovery.
The rough experiences in southern and western forests—watching the stealthy Indians, and riding through perilous and difficult paths—were fitting him for work which would attract the admiring interest of the world. So well did he improve his opportunities to serve his country and perfect himself in military science, that his farther promotion to a captaincy was ordered while on the Pacific coast. The war closed in the winter of 1848, and the treaty of peace was signed in February of that year. The life of a “regular” in the army became monotonous. Garrisons and surveys occupied the troops. But there came, two years later, an interesting change in the social relations of Captain Sherman.
The friend he left with so much regret when he bade adieu to Lancaster, Ohio, for a home at West Point, Miss Ellen B. Ewing, attracted the gallant young soldier’s steps from the round of martial duty. In the spring of 1850 he led her to the altar of marriage, in Washington, D. C., where the bride’s father, the Hon. Thomas Ewing, has spent much of his long life in Congress, and in the Cabinet. Two of the greatest statesmen in this or any other nation, Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, were guests on the occasion, also General Zachary Taylor. Not many weddings in the Republic can boast of so many distinguished persons among the spectators of the ceremonies, offering their congratulations to the happy pair.
Captain Sherman was for a period connected with the Commissary Department of the Army. Its duties are the furnishing of the various supplies for the troops. Tired of the quiet and tameness of the service, in 1853 he resigned his commission, and retired to private life. That well-known and wealthy citizen of St. Louis, Mr. Lucas, proposed to establish a banking-house in San Francisco, under the name of “Lucas, Turner & Co.,” at the head of which was placed Captain Sherman.
We have come to a singular turn in his history. The cadet has been from the Florida swamps to the mountains of the northern border, rising in position, and steadily, honorably pursuing the object immediately before him, till tired of an almost useless existence, as it seems, in the army, he is at length a gentlemanly banker in the principal city of the “golden coast.” Days, weeks, months, and years, find him in the comparatively quiet round of business affairs. He is at home in the material condition and politics of the country; for he is familiar always with the current events of the times. The faithful boy at errands, is the trusty soldier and banker also. No stain rests on the record of his success in life.
CHAPTER V.
Takes charge of a Military Academy in Alexandria, Louisiana—He sees the rising storm of Civil War—Resigns—A noble Letter—He repairs to St. Louis, and superintends a Street Railroad.
CAPTAIN SHERMAN, of the house of Lucas, Turner & Co., was not unsuccessful in the banking-office; but it was not suited to his culture and taste, and he was without large capital. It is not strange, therefore, that when, in 1860, he was offered the presidency of the Louisiana State Military Academy at Alexandria, on a salary of five thousand dollars per annum, he should accept the honorable position.
You know that, besides the national institution for discipline in the art of war, there are smaller schools of a similar character in several of the States, besides private enterprises of great merit. The Academy at Alexandria was organized in 1860, and, intended to accommodate two hundred cadets. Whether the State had reference to the possibility of a collision with the Government in this preparatory work we do not know, but are sure that the chief officer had no thought of serving the cause of revolt in taking its management. The town is situated on the Red River, nearly in the centre of the State, three hundred and fifty miles from New Orleans, which lies southeast of it, and down the Mississippi.
Louisiana is a great cotton-growing State, and Alexandria is in one of the richest portions of the wide plains skirting the stream which poured its flood into the magnificent tide of the “Father of Waters.” It is beautifully situated in the midst of cotton plantations, which, like snow-fields in summer, spread away in every direction from the village. Here the professor was directing his genius and attainments to carry out the wishes of the founders of the school, when the first ominous sounds of rebellion followed the election of Abraham Lincoln.
He knew the Southern feeling well. The intercourse with the people of the cotton States, from the association at West Point with their sons to that hour, convinced him of what we at the North were slow to believe, that they were determined to have their own way orfight. His clear judgment and forecast caught the signal of revolution in the stormy councils and secession resolutions which succeeded the political revolution. The evil spirit of rebellion was in the very atmosphere about him. There was hot blood, even in the recitation-rooms of the Academy. The year 1860 closed over a purpose which had slowly but steadily matured, to leave the institution in which he had just begun to feel at home, and was fully qualified to manage. It had cost him anxious thought. But far in advance, as he has been ever since, in his views of the true issue—the men and the measures we must meet—he was sure a sanguinary struggle was at hand. It saddened his heart, but nerved his strong hand to grasp the starry banner and enter the arena of carnage and victory.
Thus decided in his convictions and loyalty, he did not wait for the thunder of cannon around Fort Sumter. He wrote the following manly, strong, and patriotic letter, which tells its own glorious story:
“January 18, 1861.“Gov. Thomas O. Moore, Baton Rouge, La.“Sir:—As I occupy aquasi-military position under this State, I deem it proper to acquaint you that I accepted such position when Louisiana was a State in the Union, and when the motto of the seminary was inserted in marble over the main door, ‘By the liberality of the General Government of the United States: The Union—Esto Perpètua.’“Recent events foreshadow a great change, and it becomes all men to choose. If Louisiana withdraws from the Federal Union,Iprefer to maintain my allegiance to the old Constitution as long as a fragment of it survives, and my longer stay here would be wrong in every sense of the word. In that event, I beg you will send or appoint some authorized agent to take charge of the arms and munitions of war here belonging to the State, or direct me what disposition should be made of them.“And furthermore, as President of the Board of Supervisors, I beg you to take immediate steps to relieve me as superintendent the moment the State determines to secede; for on no earthly account will I do any act, or think any thought, hostile to or in defiance of the old Government of the United States.“With great respect, &c.,“(Signed)W. T. Sherman.”
“January 18, 1861.
“Gov. Thomas O. Moore, Baton Rouge, La.
“Sir:—As I occupy aquasi-military position under this State, I deem it proper to acquaint you that I accepted such position when Louisiana was a State in the Union, and when the motto of the seminary was inserted in marble over the main door, ‘By the liberality of the General Government of the United States: The Union—Esto Perpètua.’
“Recent events foreshadow a great change, and it becomes all men to choose. If Louisiana withdraws from the Federal Union,Iprefer to maintain my allegiance to the old Constitution as long as a fragment of it survives, and my longer stay here would be wrong in every sense of the word. In that event, I beg you will send or appoint some authorized agent to take charge of the arms and munitions of war here belonging to the State, or direct me what disposition should be made of them.
“And furthermore, as President of the Board of Supervisors, I beg you to take immediate steps to relieve me as superintendent the moment the State determines to secede; for on no earthly account will I do any act, or think any thought, hostile to or in defiance of the old Government of the United States.
“With great respect, &c.,
“(Signed)W. T. Sherman.”
What a scorching rebuke is that in the first paragraph! How sublimely loyal the sentiments of the last!
The resignation was accepted. The professor turned his back upon his cadets and upon Louisiana, till he shall return under the torn and blackened flag of conquest. Repairing to St. Louis, he had no employment for his brain or hands. But he was ready for any honest work. Mr. Lucas, one of the millionaires of the city, offered him the office of superintendent of a street railroad, on a salary of two thousand dollars a year. He at once entered upon its duties, without a regret that he had abandoned the halls of military science and a larger reward for his labor.
My young reader, it is a lesson for all ages and all times. Embrace the providential openings for reputable and useful labor, without regard to the present applause or the favor of the busy multitude about you. Think of the brave Captain—the educated instructor—managing the affairs of a city horse-railway! Then think of the host of young men, who would rather starve, orgamble, to keep up the appearance of wealth and position, rather thango downin the world’s estimate of what is respectable and fashionable, and you will admire the truly heroic character of the gifted Sherman.
CHAPTER VI.
Sumter falls—Sherman repairs to Washington—His Interview with the Secretary of War and the President—His Prophetic Insight of the Threatening Times—The state of the Country—Rebel Expectations.
THE traitorous Secretary of War, John B. Floyd, had not lost sight of the probable uprising of the South at no distant period, for a moment, during all of his official career. Every fort on her soil was made an easy prey to her rebellious hand by reducing their garrisons.
The magnificent Fortress Monroe, on which the United States had expended nearly two and a half millions, could muster only eight companies of artillery. The forts, Moultrie, Pinckney, and Sumter, of Charleston harbor, had only eighty men, who were in Fort Moultrie.
And yet, had you been in the Halls of Congress when Mr. Clarke, of New Hampshire, offered a resolution of inquiry into the condition of those defences, you would have heard a storm of apparently virtuous indignation from Jefferson Davis and his fellow-conspirators, as if the intimation of treachery were an insult to Southern chivalry.
A week later General Anderson and his band, loyal to the national banner, having become assured that their capture with Fort Moultrie was designed, after destroying its equipment as far as possible, stole at dead of night from its walls and floated over the waters to silent Sumter, whose massive battlements promised a safer refuge from the passions of infatuated men. The rebels immediately seized Forts Moultrie and Pinckney; and ten days later the Star of the West, an unarmed steamer conveying a reënforcement of two hundred and fifty soldiers and supplies for the destitute garrison, was fired upon from newly-erected earthworks.
The spring came with flowers and birds, but the angry storm of rebellion beat around Sumter with increasing fury. Iron-clad batteries had risen on every hand to cut off the approach of our ships, and grim ordnance now pointed toward the old fortress.
April 12th a messenger approached it with a very brief message to Major Anderson; it was, “Surrender!” The reply was nearly as short: “His sense of honor and his obligations to the Government would prevent compliance.”
A few hours after, and “boom! boom!” was the sound, followed with shot and shell, against Sumter’s walls, which opened a bloody civil war. In the iron hail the fort was scarred, and its ground covered with exploding shells. At length the band, one-third the number of the famous warriors at Thermopylæ, against ten thousand, saw the hopelessness of resistance, and made honorable terms to themselves, of surrender. Every telegraphic wire in the land, North and South, trembled to the tidings of the battle hour.
The Hon. Thomas Ewing wrote Charles Taylor Sherman, of Washington, the brother of William Tecumseh, to use his influence to get the latter again into the army. He felt that he was, andwould beneeded. The intelligent, patriotic mind of the captain did not requirelightfor action, but onlyopportunity.
Our railroad superintendent at St. Louis thought that all observant people must see that a terrible conflict had begun, and like Grant in Galena, left his office to offer his services to the Government, and his life, if that should be the sacrifice, included in their acceptance. He hastened to the nation’s capital. Soon after reaching Washington he called on Secretary Cameron.
“Mr. Secretary, civil war is imminent, and we are unprepared for it. I have come to offer my services to the country in the struggle before us.”
“I think,” replies Mr. Cameron, “the ebullition of feeling will soon subside, we shall not need many troops.”
Indeed the Secretary was quite surprised, if not annoyed, at the earnestness of Captain Sherman. He next sought an interview with the President, and made a similar statement and offer to him. The good President was inclined to take the whole thing as a joke. After listening to the serious enthusiasm expressed in the strong appeal, he replied, pleasantly: “We shall not need many more like you; the whole affair will soon blow over.”
He left the Chief Magistrate of a republic whose very existence he knew was assailed, with a shadow of disappointment on his brave, loyal spirit—not for himself, but for the cause near his heart. Friends then advised him to go to Ohio and superintend the organization of three months’ men there. He declared “it would be as wise to undertake to extinguish the flames of a burning building with a squirt gun, as to put down the rebellion with three months’ troops.”
To talk of any thing less than a gigantic war was to him absurd. But he was then nearly alone in his just estimate of the struggle.
CHAPTER VII.
The Conflict Deepens—The Captain is made Colonel of the Thirteenth New York Volunteers—The Battle of Bull Run—The unterrified Commander of the Thirteenth and his Troops—The Brave Stand.
INSTEAD of “blowing over,” the storm of rebellion grew darker, and extended toward every point of the horizon. The appointment of Captain Sherman to an important command was discussed and urged by those who knew him. And what do you think he said? You recollect our Lieutenant-General, when he asked the privilege of serving his country, declined a generalship because too modest to aspire to its honors. The lamented Major-General Mitchel desired any place, however humble, where he might defend the Stars and Stripes. And said the gallant Sherman: “I do not wish a prominent place; this is to be a long and bloody war.”
Realabilityto achieve, and moral worth, are never boastful and impatient to astonish the people. Even the great rebel General Lee, in a letter recently published, urges the same unassuming, calm performance of present duty upon his son: quoting as an illustration the “old Puritan,” who in the early period of our legislation, when the day suddenly became outwardly dark, as if the sun had disappeared from the heavens, causing a pause of alarm, some fearing the judgment-day was at hand, called for a light, saying he wished to proceed to business, and be found at his post of duty when the final catastrophe came. This is good counsel for us all, though from arebel’spen.
General McDowell, who was then one of our most popular commanders, seems to have had a just appreciation of Sherman. He wanted his services; and on the 13th of June, 1861, offered him the colonelcy of the Thirteenth Infantry in the regular army, the command dating May 14th of that year.
A month of preparation for the field passed, and the first great meeting of the opposing armies summoned him to the war-path. July 16th, General McDowell, with thirty-two thousand five hundred men, moved in four divisions upon Manassas, through which lay the route to Richmond, the capital of Virginia and of the Confederacy. From Arlington Heights, Long Bridge, and Alexandria, the troops marched proudly forward, anticipating an early victory.
Never before, my young reader, did a large army go to the plain of carnage with hearts so light and gay—“as if on a pic-nic excursion.” It was a splendid, and to most of the troops a novel spectacle, that march upon the “sacred soil” of the “Old Dominion,” to the animating notes of “The Star Spangled Banner” and other national airs. July 21st, the Sabbath day, the signals of battle were seen in our lines, regardless of the hallowed time, and confident of an almost bloodless conquest.
Colonel Bowman, one of General Sherman’s officers since, and a faithful friend, has given a clear and unvarnished story of his part in the affray:
“The enemy had planted a battery on Warrenton turnpike, to command the passage of Bull Run, and seized the stone bridge which crossed it, erecting a heavy abatis to prevent our advance in that direction. The object of the battle was to force this position, with a view to subsequent operations beyond. The army engaged was commanded by Brigadier-General McDowell. The fourth division was left in the rear. The first, second, third, and fifth were commanded respectively by Brigadier-General Tyler, and Colonels Hunter, Heintzelman, and Miles. In the plan of battle, Miles was to be in reserve on the Centreville Ridge; Tyler was to advance directly in front of Stone Bridge, on the Warrenton road, and cannonade the enemy’s batteries; Hunter and Heintzelman were to move to the right and cross the run above, and get to the enemy’s rear. Colonel Sherman commanded the third brigade in Tyler’s (first) division, consisting of troops since renowned for gallantry—Captain Ayres’ Regular Battery, the Thirteenth, Sixty-ninth, and Seventy-ninth New York, and Second Wisconsin infantry.
“The advance was commenced on the morning of the 21st, and a part of Hunter’s and Heintzelman’s divisions, according to McDowell’s official report, ‘forced the enemy back far enough to allow Sherman’s and Keyes’s brigades of Tyler’s division to cross from their position on the Warrenton road. These drove the right of the enemy, understood to have been commanded by Beauregard, from the front of the field, and out of the detached woods, and down the road, and across it, up the slopes, on the other side.’ Pressing on, these two brigades, with the two divisions on the right, came upon an elevated ridge or table of land. Here was the severest fighting of the famous battle. Sherman led his brigade directly up the Warrenton road, and held his ground till the general order came to retreat. It will be the verdict of history that the fighting at Bull Run was no more disgraceful to us than the unsuccessful fighting of the French at Waterloo. It was the disorganizedroutafter the day was done that showed that our army was as yet but an undisciplined rabble. The day was lost partly by the delay in attack, but chiefly by the arrival of reënforcements under Johnston, when victory was already in our hands. General Patterson was the Grouchy of our Waterloo.
“One fact in the battle has hitherto escaped comment. The orders of Tyler’s division were to cross Bull Run, when possible, and join Hunter on the right. This was done, Sherman leading off, with the Sixty-ninth New York in advance, and encountering a party of the enemy retreating along a cluster of pines. Lieutenant-Colonel Haggerty, of the Sixty-ninth, without orders, rode over to intercept their retreat, and was shot dead by the enemy. Furious at his loss, the Sixty-ninth sprang forward and opened fire, which was returned. ‘But,’ says Sherman, ‘determined to effect our junction with Hunter’s division, I ordered the fire to cease, and we proceeded with caution toward the field, where we then plainly saw our forces engaged.’ Turning to Colonel Burnside’s official report, we shall find that he was at this time overwhelmingly pressed by the enemy. It was a critical juncture. At length Major Sykes’s battalion of regulars came up, and staggered the enemy, and at the same moment Sherman came marching over the hill. ‘It was Sherman’s brigade,’ says Burnside, ‘that arrived at about twelve and a half o’clock, and by a most deadly fire assisted in breaking the enemy’s lines.’ So much for soldierly promptness and strict obedience to orders. From the vigor with which Sherman fought his brigade, the loss in his four regiments was one hundred and five killed, two hundred and two wounded, two hundred and ninety-three wounded or missing, with six killed and three wounded in the battery, making a total of six hundred and nine, the whole division losing eight hundred and fifty-nine. The loss of the army, excluding prisoners and stragglers, was computed thus: killed, four hundred and seventy-nine; wounded, eleven hundred and eleven; total killed and wounded, fifteen hundred and ninety. When the conduct of Sherman had become known, the Ohio delegation in Congress unanimously urged his immediate promotion. This was easily effected, and on the 3d of August, 1861, he was confirmed a brigadier-general of volunteers.”
Colonel Sherman’s brigade was the only one which retired from the field in order, making a stand at the bridge on the track to Washington, to dispute bravely “the right of way,” should the enemy pursue our panic-stricken forces toward the capital.
CHAPTER VIII.
General Sherman goes to Kentucky—Muldraugh’s Hill—His army weakened—General Buckner’s superior force—Succeeds General Anderson—Writes General McClellan—Interview with Secretary Cameron—Paducah.
AWAY on the borders of Kentucky the tramp of war was heard. The hero of Sumter, General Anderson, was in command of the department. With the advent of autumn, the Union Home Guards of Kentucky, with other troops, had gathered to the banks of the Rolling Fork of Salt River—a branch two hundred feet wide and only three feet deep. Two miles from the road crossing lie the Muldraugh’s Hills, rising in romantic outline. Half way upon the ascent runs the railroad, whose bridge is trestle-work ninety feet high; it then enters Tunnel Hill, emerging into an open plain.
General Buckner, the rebel commander, was at Bowling Green, looking toward Louisville, where he boasted he would spend the winter. General Sherman was sent to join General Anderson, the second in command, and moved his force to Muldraugh’s Hills. Buckner had burned the bridge; the Home Guards were withdrawn; and the enemy’s troops numbered twenty-five thousand. To retire to Elizabethtown with the five thousand Union soldiers was the best that General Sherman could do.
At this crisis General Anderson resigned his command on account of ill health, and the mantle of authority fell on General Sherman; no very desirable honor at that time, for “most of the fighting young men of Kentucky had gone to join the rebels. The non-combatants were divided in sentiment, and most of them far from friendly. He lacked men, and most of those he had were poorly armed. He lacked, also, means of transportation and munitions of war; and if the rebel generals had known his actual condition, they could have captured or driven his forces across the Ohio in less than ten days. He applied earnestly and persistently for reënforcements, and, at the same time, took every possible precaution to conceal his weakness from the enemy, as well as from the loyal public. At that time newspaper reporters were not always discreet, and often obtained and published the very facts that should have been concealed. He issued a stringent order excluding all reporters and correspondents from his lines. This brought down upon him the indignation of the press. More unfortunately still, he failed to impress the Secretary of War with the necessities of his position and the importance of holding it. On the 3d of November he telegraphed to General McClellan the condition of affairs, with the number of his several forces, showing them to be everywhere, except at one single point, outnumbered, and concluded his despatch with the emphatic remark, ‘Our forces are too small to do good, and too large to be sacrificed.’
“In reply, General McClellan asks, ‘How long could McCook keep Buckner out of Louisville, holding the railroad, with power to destroy it inch by inch?’—giving no hint of a purpose to send reënforcements, but looking to the probable abandonment of Kentucky. Previous to this, General Sherman had had an interview with Secretary Cameron, in presence of Adjutant-General Thomas, at Lexington, Kentucky, and fully explained to him the situation of his command, and also of the armies opposed to him; and, on being asked what force was necessary for a successful forward movement in his department, answered, ‘Two hundred thousand men.’ By the 1st of November, Adjutant-General Thomas’s official report of this conversation, in all its details, was published in most of the newspapers of the country, giving the enemy full knowledge of many important facts relating to General Sherman’s department. He was too weak to defend his lines; and the enemy knew it. He had no hope of reënforcements, and, withal, was evidently in discredit with the War Department, as being too apprehensive of the power, strength, and resources of the enemy. He, therefore, felt he could not successfully conduct the campaign, and asked to be relieved. He was succeeded by General Buell, who was at once reënforced, and enabled to hold his defensive positions until Grant, the following spring, should advance down the Mississippi and up the Cumberland.
“General Sherman was now set down as ‘crazy,’ and quietly retired to the command of Benton Barracks, near St. Louis. The evidence of his insanity was his answer to the Secretary of War—that to make a successful advance against the enemy, then strongly posted at all strategic points from the Mississippi to Cumberland Gap, would require an army two hundred thousand strong! The answer was the inspiration or the judgment of a military genius; but to the mind of Mr. Secretary Cameron it was the prophecy of a false wizard.
“It has been said of the Spaniards, ‘that they generally managed to have an army when they had no general, and a general when they had no army;’ and during the first years of the war we surpassed in folly their example. It was vainly expected the rebellion could effectually be put down without either a general or an army, by a mere flourish of trumpets—as if the foundations of the Confederacy, like the walls of Jericho, would yield and fall at the blowing of a ram’s horn. Subsequent events have sufficiently vindicated General Sherman’s opinion expressed in his reply to the Secretary of War.
“Meantime General Halleck succeeded to the command of the Department of the West, and General Sherman was not long allowed to remain in charge of a recruiting-rendezvous at St. Louis. When General Grant moved on Fort Donelson, Sherman was intrusted with the forwarding to him of reënforcements and supplies from Paducah. General Grant subsequently acknowleged himself ‘greatly indebted for his promptness’ in discharging that duty. After the capture of that stronghold, General Sherman was put in command of the fifth division of Grant’s army at Pittsburg Landing. At the same time Beauregard was industriously collecting the rebel forces at Corinth, a strong strategic point, well fortified, thirty miles distant. Grant had moved up from Fort Donelson, and Buell was on his way.”
How grandly General Grant and Commodore Foote did their work at Forts Henry and Donelson! What deeds of valor were performed by our Western boys, whose couch at night was the snowy earth, reddened with the blood of carnage!
But while that storm of conflict was raging, an officer who had no superior, and longed to enter its perils and glory for his native land and his own loyal West, was patiently, and “without observation,” sending, with an intelligent appreciation of what was needed, and remarkable promptness, supplies for the heroes of the great border battles. General Grantknewthe value of that service, and warmly expressed in his despatches his “indebtedness to General Sherman” for his activity, his timely and indispensable aid, apart from the bloody field.
My reader will recollect that the fall of Fort Donelson, about the middle of February, 1862, startled the whole of “rebeldom.” The strongest fortress in the West was taken. The next position in importance was Corinth, because at the junction of the Memphis and Charleston and the Mobile and Ohio Railroads. Memphis, the enemy knew, must soon be the prize for which our victorious troops would strike.
“Corinth must be defended!” was the cry from the South. General Beauregard, the hero of Sumter and Bull Run, hastened to the field of conflict, to lend the power of his name and generalship to the cause of treason.
General Grant had moved the gunboats after the surrender of Fort Donelson down the Cumberland and up the Tennessee River to Pittsburg Landing, making Savannah, ten miles distant, his own headquarters.
General Buell, with the Army of the Ohio, was marching toward this point to join him, from the pursuit of General Johnston through Nashville. The rebel officers decided to concentrate their forces, by the railroads in their possession, unexpectedly upon the Union army before Buell could get there, and after annihilating it, turn upon him and scatter his battalions. The enemy kept his counsels well, while preparing to hurl his legions upon our columns.
CHAPTER IX.
Pittsburg Landing—The Surprise—The Battle—The Victory—Sherman’s glorious part in the Struggle—The Testimony of Officers—His Letter on the Contest.
PITTSBURG is the nearest point to Corinth on the river, three miles from which, in the sparsely settled country, is the old log building called Shiloh Church—a dilapidated sanctuary of primitive, or ratherbackwoodsstyle. Around this desolate place of former worship lay General Sherman’s division, bordering both sides of the lower road to Corinth.
Sunday morning, April 6th, the fifty thousand men or more, under such leaders as Beauregard, Johnston, Breckinridge, and Polk, fell upon the army of the Republic, emerging from their forest paths like spectres in the early light. “Carleton,” who was there, and carefully went over the field of conflict to know all that was done, thus notices our hero:
“Sherman’s pickets were being driven back by the rapid advance of the rebel lines. It was a little past sun-rise when they came in, breathless, with startling accounts that the entire rebel army was at their heels. The officers were not out of bed. The soldiers were just stirring, rubbing their eyes, putting on their boots, washing at the brook, or tending their camp kettles. Their guns were in their tents; they had a small supply of ammunition. It was a complete surprise. Officers jumped from their beds, tore open the tent-flies, and stood in undress to see what it was all about. The rebel pickets rushed up within close musket range and fired.
“ ‘Fall in! Form a line! here, quick!’ were the orders from the officers.
“There was running in every direction. Soldiers for their guns, officers for their sabres, artillerists to their pieces, teamsters to their horses. There was hot haste, and a great hurly-burly.
“General Hardee made a mistake at the outset. Instead of rushing up with a bayonet charge upon Sherman’s camp, and routing his unformed brigades in an instant, as he might have done, he unlimbered his batteries and opened fire.
“When the alarm was given General Sherman was instantly on his horse. He sent a request to McClernand to support Hilderbrand. He also sent word to Prentiss that the enemy were in front, but Prentiss had already made the discovery, and was contending with all his might against the avalanche rolling upon him from the ridge south of his position. He sent word to Hurlbut that a force was needed in the gap between the church and Prentiss. He was everywhere present, dashing along his lines, paying no attention to the constant fire aimed at him and his staff by the rebel skirmishers, within short musket range. They saw him, knew that he was an officer of high rank, saw that he was bringing order out of confusion, and tried to pick him off. While galloping down to Hilderbrand, his orderly, Halliday, was killed.
“Sherman tried to hold his position by the church. He considered it to be of the utmost importance. He did not want to lose his camp. He exhibited great bravery. His horse was shot, and he mounted another. That also was killed, and he took a third, and, before night, lost his fourth. He encouraged his men, not only by his words but by his reckless daring. Captain Behr had been posted on the Purdy road with his battery, and had had but little part in the fight. He was falling back, closely followed by Pond.
“ ‘Come into position out there on the right,’ said Sherman, pointing to the place where he wanted him to unlimber. Then came a volley from the woods. A shot struck the captain from his horse. The drivers and gunners became frightened and rode off with the caissons, leaving five unspiked guns to fall into the hands of the rebels! Sherman and Taylor, and other officers, by their coolness, bravery, and daring, saved Buckland’s and McDowell’s brigades from a panic; and thus, after four hours of hard fighting, Sherman was obliged to leave his camp and fall back behind McClernand, who now was having, a fierce fight with the brigades which had pushed in between Prentiss and Sherman.”
You shall hear from the general’s fellow-officers about his appearance and gallantry on this terrible field of strife. A brave cavalry officer said of him: “Having occasion to report personally to General Sherman, about noon of the first day of Shiloh, I found him dismounted, his arm in a sling, his hand bleeding, his horse dead, himself covered with dust, his face besmeared with powder and blood. He was giving directions at the moment to Major Taylor, his chief of artillery, who had just brought a battery into position. Mounted orderlies were coming and going in haste; staff officers were making anxious inquiries; everybody but himself seemed excited. The battle was raging terrifically in every direction. Just then there seemed to be universal commotion on our right, where it was observed our men were giving back. ‘I was looking for that,’ said Sherman, ‘but I am ready for them.’ His quick, sharp eye flashed, and his war-begrimed face beamed with satisfaction. The enemy’s packed columns now made their appearance, and as quickly the guns which Sherman had so carefully placed in position began to speak. The deadly effect on the enemy was apparent. While Sherman was still managing the artillery, Major Sanger, a staff officer, called his attention to the fact that the enemy’s cavalry were charging toward the battery. ‘Order up those two companies of infantry,’ was the quick reply, and the general coolly went on with his guns. The cavalry made a gallant charge, but their horses carried back empty saddles. The enemy was evidently foiled. Our men, gaining fresh courage, rallied again, and for the first time that day the enemy was held stubbornly in check. A moment more and he fell back over the piles of his dead and wounded.”
General Rousseau, a division officer of Buell’s Army of the Cumberland, speaks of him in the following handsome manner:
“He gave us our first lessons in the field in the face of an enemy; and of all the men I ever saw he is the most untiring, vigilant, and patient. No man that ever lived could surpass him. His enemies say that he was surprised at Shiloh. I tell you no. He was not surprised nor whipped, for he fights by the week. Devoid of ambition, incapable of envy, he is brave, gallant, and just. At Shiloh his old legion met him just as the battle was ended; and at the sight of him, placing their hats upon their bayonets, gave him three cheers. It was a touching and fitting compliment to the gallant chieftain. I am thankful for this occasion to do justice to a brave, honest, and knightly gentleman.”
Nor did he escape the attention of his commanding officer. General Grant, in a letter to the War Department, under date of July 25, 1863, said:
“At the battle of Shiloh, on the last day, he held, with raw troops, the key point of the landing. It is no disparagement to any other officer to say that I do not believe there was another division commander on the field who had the skill and experience to have done it. To his individual efforts I am indebted for the success of that battle.”
Writes Colonel Bowman: “He formed his first line of battle on the brow of a hill, or rather ridge, on the west of Lick and Owl Creeks, which served as a natural fortification. The men, by lying down or retiring a few steps, were well covered, and, by rising and advancing a few paces, could deliver their fire with terrible effect. But his troops were mostly green, and wholly untrained in the art of war. The rebel onset was well directed, rapid, and most persistent. Some of Sherman’s regiments broke and fled, while others fought like veterans. The fight soon became general; Beauregard hurled his massed columns with great impetuosity against our attenuated lines, which, though yielding to the pressure, did not break. The rebels gained ground inch by inch, but could do no more than compress the semicircle of our line of battle. Beauregard had promised his troops to drive us into the Tennessee that day before three o’clock, but nightfall found him contemplating the chances of successful retreat; for Buell had arrived. Sherman’s conduct on that day showed him to be a man of the first order of military talent. He was not disconcerted by the panic among his green troops, and, indeed, had expected it. All he asked was, that a reasonable number should remain and obey orders; and in an American army there can always be found a goodly proportion of officers and men incapable of being cowards under any circumstances. With such he did battle on the 6th of April, 1862—a day long to be remembered, as the day of the battle of Shiloh. There was not a commanding general on the field who did not rely on Sherman, and look to him as our chief hope; and there is no question that but for Sherman our army would have been destroyed. He rode from place to place, directing his men; he selected from time to time the positions for his artillery; he dismounted and managed the guns; he sent suggestions to commanders of divisions; he inspired everybody with confidence; and yet it never occurred to him that he had accomplished any thing worthy of remark.”
General Nelson, a few days before his death, in conversation with Larz Anderson and two or three other gentlemen, said: “During eight hours, the fate of the army on the field of Shiloh depended on the life of one man: if General Sherman had fallen, the army would have been captured or destroyed.”
General Halleck, in his despatch to the Secretary of War, recommending General Sherman for promotion, said of him: “It is the unanimous opinion here that Brigadier-General W. T. Sherman saved the fortunes of the day on the 6th of April, and contributed largely to the glorious victory of the 7th. He was in the thickest of the fight on both days, having three horses killed under him, and being wounded twice. I respectfully request that he be made a major-general of volunteers, to date from the 6th instant.”
Acting upon this recommendation, General Sherman was promoted to the rank designated, to date from May 1st, 1862.
I shall give you now a letter of considerable length, written by General Sherman himself about the battle. Some of my readers may not care to read it all; but it should have a place in the annals of his life, because it is one of many illustrations of his power with the pen, and is also his honest and truthful record of the great contest at Pittsburg Landing: