MAJOR-GENERAL SLOCUM.
MAJOR-GENERAL SLOCUM.
There can be no doubt the plan of the Rebel leaders was to attack and demolish Grant's army before Buell's reinforcements arrived. There were rumors, indeed, that such a movement had been expressly ordered from headquarters at Richmond, as being absolutely necessary, as a last bold stroke, to save the falling fortunes of the Confederacy in the West; though of that, no one, I presume, knows anything.
But the Rebel leaders at Corinth were fully aware that they largely outnumbered Grant, and that no measures had been taken to strengthen the position at Pittsburgh Landing; while they knew equally well that when Buell's entire Kentucky army arrived, and was added to Grant's forces, they could not possibly expect to hold their vitally important position at Corinth against us. Their only hope, therefore, lay in attacking Grant before Buell arrived, and so defeating us in detail. Fortunately they timed their movements a day too late.
The sun never rose on a more beautiful morning than that of Sunday, April 6th. Lulled by the general security, I had remained in pleasant quarters at Crump's, below Pittsburgh Landing, on the river. By sunrise I was roused by the cry: "They're fighting above." Volleys of musketry could sure enough be distinguished, and occasionally the sullen boom of artillery came echoing down the stream. Momentarily the volume of sound increased, till it became evident it was no skirmish that was in progress, and that a considerable portion of the army must be already engaged. Hastily springing on the guards of a passing steamboat, I hurried up.
The sweet Spring sunshine danced over the rippling waters, and softly lit up the green of the banks. A fewfleecy clouds alone broke the azure above. A light breeze murmured among the young leaves; the blue-birds were singing their gentle treble to the stern music that still came louder and deeper to us from the bluffs above, and the frogs were croaking their feeble imitation from the marshy islands that studded the channel.
Even this early the west bank of the river was lined with the usual fugitives from action, hurriedly pushing onwards, they knew not where, except down stream away from the fight. An officer on board hailed numbers of them and demanded their reason for being there; but they all gave him the same response: "We're clean cut to pieces, and every man must save himself."
At the landing appearances became still more ominous. Our two Cincinnati wooden gunboats, Tyler and Lexington, were edging uneasily up and down the banks, eager to put in their broadsides of heavy guns, but unable to find where they could do it. The roar of battle was startlingly close, and showed that the Rebels were in earnest attempt to carry out their threat of driving us into the river. The landing and bluff above were covered with cowards, who had fled from their ranks to the rear for safety, and who were telling the most fearful stories of the Rebel onset and the sufferings of their own particular regiments. Momentarily fresh fugitives came back, often guns in hand, and all giving the same accounts of thickening disasters in front.
Hurrying out toward the scene of action, I was soon convinced that there was too much foundation for the tales of the runaways. Sherman's and Prentiss' entire divisions were falling back in disorder, sharply pressed by the Rebels in overwhelming numbers, at all points. McClernand's had already lost part of its camps, and it, too, wasfalling back. There was one consolation—only one—I could see just then; history, so the divines say, is positive on the point that no attack ever made on the Sabbath was eventually a success to the attacking party. Nevertheless, the signs were sadly against the theologians.
Let me return—premising that I have thus brought the reader into the scene near the close of the first act in our Sunday's tragedy—to the preliminaries of the opening of the assault.
And first, of our positions. Let the reader understand that the Pittsburgh Landing is simply a narrow ravine, down which a road passes to the river bank, between high bluffs on either side. There is no town at all—two log huts comprise all the improvements visible. Back from the river is a rolling country, cut up with numerous ravines, partially under cultivation, but perhaps the greater part thickly wooded with some underbrush. The soil clayey, and roads on Sunday morning were good. From the Landing a road leads direct to Corinth, twenty miles distant. A mile or two out, this road forks, one branch is the lower Corinth road, the other the ridge Corinth road. A short distance out another road takes off to the left, crosses Lick Creek, and leads back to the river at Hamburgh, some miles further up. On the right, two separate roads lead off to Purdy, and another, a new one, across Snake Creek to Crump's Landing on the river below. Besides these, the whole country inside our lines is cut up with roads leading to our different camps; and beyond the lines is the most inextricable maze of crossroads, intersecting everything and leading everywhere, in which it was ever my ill-fortune to become entangled.
On and between these roads, at distances of from two to four or five miles from Pittsburgh Landing, lay five divisionsof Major-General Grant's army that Sunday morning. The advance line was formed by three divisions—Brigadier-General Sherman's, Brigadier-General Prentiss's and Major-General McClernand's. Between these and the Landing lay the two others—Brigadier-General Hurlbut's and Major-General Smith's, commanded, in the absence (from sickness) of that admirable officer, by Brigadier-General W. H. L. Wallace.
Our advance line, beginning at the extreme left, was thus formed. On the Hamburgh road, just this side the crossing of Lick Creek and under bluffs on the opposite bank that commanded the position, lay Colonel D. Stuart's Brigade of General Sherman's Division. Some three or four miles distant from this Brigade, on the lower Corinth road and between that and the one to Purdy, lay the remaining Brigades of Sherman's Division, McDowell's forming the extreme right of our whole advance line, Buckland's coming next to it, and Hildebrand's next. To the left of Hildebrand's Brigade, though rather behind a portion of Sherman's line, lay Major-General McClernand's Division, and between it and Stuart's Brigade, already mentioned as forming our extreme left, lay Brigadier-General Prentiss' Division, completing the front.
Back of this line, within a mile of the Landing, lay Hurlbut's Division, stretching across the Corinth road, and W. H. L. Wallace's to his right.
Such was the position of our troops at Pittsburgh Landing, at daybreak Sunday morning. Major-General Lew. Wallace's Division lay at Crump's Landing, some miles below, and was not ordered up till about half-past seven o'clock that day.
It is idle to criticise arrangements now—it is so easy to be wise after a matter is over—but the reader will hardlyfail to observe the essential defects of such disposition of troops for a great battle. Nearly four miles intervened between the different parts of Sherman's Division. Of course to command the one, he must neglect the other. McClernand's lay partially behind Sherman, and therefore, not stretching far enough to the left, there was a gap between him and Prentiss, which the Rebels did not fail speedily to find. Our extreme left was commanded by unguarded heights, easily approachable from Corinth. And the whole arrangement was confused and ill-adjusted.
Confusion was not the only glaring fault. General Sherman's camps, to the right of the little log-cabin called Shiloh Church, fronted on a descending slope of a quarter to a half mile in breadth, mostly covered with woods and bounded by a ravine. A day's work of his troops would have covered that slope with an impenetrable abattis, thrown a line of breastworks to the front of the camps, and enabled General Sherman to sweep all approaches with artillery and musketry, and hold his position against any force that was brought against it. But for three weeks he had lain there, declaring the position dangerous, and predicting attack; yet absolutely without making the slightest preparation for the commonest means of defense.
During Friday and Saturday the Rebels had marched out of Corinth, about sixty thousand strong, in three great divisions. Sidney Johnston had general command of the whole army. Beauregard had the centre; Braxton Bragg and Hardee the wings. Polk, Breckinridge, Cheatham and others held subordinate commands. On Thursday Johnston issued a proclamation to the army, announcing to them in grandiloquent terms that he was about to lead them against the invaders, and that they would soon celebrate the great decisive victory of the war, in which they had repelledthe invading column, redeemed Tennessee, and preserved the Southern Confederacy.
Their general plan of attack is said by prisoners to have been to strike our centre first, (composed, as the reader will remember, of Prentiss's and McClernand's Divisions,) pierce the centre, and then pour in their troops to attack on each side the wings into which they would thus cut our army.
To accomplish this, they should have struck the left of the three brigades of Sherman's Division which lay on our right and the left of McClernand's, which came to the front on Sherman's left. By some mistake, however, they struck Sherman's left alone, and that a few moments after a portion of their right wing had swept up against Prentiss.
The troops thus attacked, by six o'clock, or before it, were as follows: The left of Sherman's Brigades, that of Colonel Hildebrand, was composed of the Fifty-ninth Ohio, Colonel Pfyffe; Seventy-seventh Ohio, Lieutenant-Colonel commanding Fifty-third Ohio, Colonel Appler, and Fifty-third Illinois.
To the right of this was Colonel Buckland's Brigade, composed of the Seventy-second Ohio, Lieutenant-Colonel Canfield; Forty-eighth Ohio, Colonel Sullivan, and Seventieth Ohio, Colonel Cockerell.
And on the extreme right, Colonel McDowell's Brigade, Sixth Iowa, (Colonel McDowell—Lieutenant-Colonel commanding;) Fortieth Illinois, Colonel Hicks, Forty-sixth Ohio, Colonel Thomas Worthington.
General Prentiss's Division was composed of the Twelfth Michigan, Sixteenth Wisconsin, Eighteenth Wisconsin, Eighteenth Missouri, Twenty-third Missouri, Twenty-fifth Missouri, and Sixty-first Illinois.
The Battle of Sunday, April 6th—The Union Troops Surprised—An Army in Disorder—Sherman's Heroic Effort to Stem the Tide—McClernand's Share in the Battle—The Rebels Pressing their Advantage—The Assault on Sherman's Left—Men too Brave to be Killed—Desperate Position of the Union Army—Looking to the Gunboats For aid—Three Desperate Charges Repulsed—Death of General Wallace.
The Battle of Sunday, April 6th—The Union Troops Surprised—An Army in Disorder—Sherman's Heroic Effort to Stem the Tide—McClernand's Share in the Battle—The Rebels Pressing their Advantage—The Assault on Sherman's Left—Men too Brave to be Killed—Desperate Position of the Union Army—Looking to the Gunboats For aid—Three Desperate Charges Repulsed—Death of General Wallace.
"Agate" continues the story of the great battle of Sunday, April 6th, as follows:
Almost at dawn, Prentiss's pickets were driven in; a very little later Hildebrand's (in Sherman's Division) were; and the enemy were in the camps almost as soon as were the pickets themselves.
Here began scenes which, let us hope, will have no parallel in our remaining annals of the war. Some, particularly among our officers, were not yet out of bed. Others were dressing, others washing, others cooking, a few eating their breakfasts. Many guns were unloaded, accoutrements lying pell-mell, ammunition was ill-supplied—in short, the camps were virtually surprised—disgracefully, it might be added, unless someone can hereafter give some yet undiscovered reason to the contrary—and were taken at almost every possible disadvantage.
The first wild cries from the pickets rushing in, and the few scattering shots that preceded their arrival, aroused the regiments to a sense of their peril; an instant afterward shells were hurling through the tents, while, before there was time for thought of preparation, there came rushing through the woods with lines of battle sweeping the whole fronts of the division-camps, and bending down on either flank, the fine, dashing, compact columns of the enemy.
Into the just-aroused camps thronged the Rebel regiments, firing sharp volleys as they came, and springing toward our laggards with the bayonet. Some were shot down as they were running, without weapons, hatless, coatless, toward the river. The searching bullets found other poor unfortunates in their tents, and there, all unheeding now, they still slumbered, while the unseen foe rushed on. Others fell, as they were disentangling themselves from the flaps that formed the doors to their tents; others as they were buckling on their accoutrements; a few, it was even said, as they were vainly trying to impress on the cruelly exultant enemy their readiness to surrender.
Officers were wounded in their beds, and left for dead, who, through the whole two days' fearful struggle, lay there gasping in their agony, and on Monday evening were found in their gore, inside their tents, and still able to tell the tale.
Such were the fearful disasters that opened the Rebel onset on the lines of Prentiss's Division. Similar were the fates of Hildebrand's Brigade in Sherman's Division.
Meantime, what they could our shattered regiments did. Falling rapidly back through the heavy woods till they gained a protecting ridge, firing as they ran, and making what resistance men thus situated might, Sherman's mensucceeded in partially checking the rush of the enemy, long enough to form their hasty line of battle. Meantime the other two brigades of the division (to the right) sprang hastily to their arms, and had barely done so when the enemy's lines came sweeping up against their fronts too, and the battle thus opened fiercely along Sherman's whole line on the right.
Hildebrand's Brigade had been compelled to abandon their camps without a struggle. Some of the regiments, it is even said, ran without firing a gun. Colonel Appler's Fifty-third Ohio, is loudly complained of on this score, and others are mentioned. It is certain that parts of regiments, both here and in other divisions, ran disgracefully. Yet they were not wholly without excuse. They were raw troops, just from the usual idleness of our "camps of instruction;" hundreds of them had never heard a gun fired in anger; their officers, for the most part, were equally inexperienced; they had been reposing in fancied security, and were awakened, perhaps from sweet dreams of home and wives and children, by the stunning roar of cannon in their very midst, and the bursting of bomb-shells among their tents—to see only the serried columns of the magnificent Rebel advance, and through the blinding, stifling smoke, the hasty retreat of comrades and supports, right and left. Certainly, it is sad enough, but hardly surprising, that under such circumstances, some should run. Half as much caused the wild panic at Bull Run, for which the nation, as one man, became a loud-mouthed apologist.
But they ran—here as in Prentiss's Division, of which last more in a moment—and the enemy did not fail to profit by the wild disorder. As Hildebrand's Brigade fell back, McClernand threw forward his left to support it. Meanwhile Sherman was doing his best to rally his troops.Dashing along the lines, encouraging them everywhere by his presence, and exposing his own life with the same freedom with which he demanded their offer of theirs, he did much to save the division from utter destruction. Buckland and McDowell held their ground fiercely for a time. At last they were compelled to retire their brigades from their camps across the little ravine behind; but here again they made a gallant defence, while what was left of Hildebrand's was falling back in such order as it might, and leaving McClernand's left to take their place, and check the wave of Rebel advance.
Prentiss was faring scarcely so well. Most of his troops stood their ground, to be formed into line, but strangely enough, the line was drawn up in an open space, leaving to the enemy the cover of the dense scrub-oak in front, from which they could pour in their volleys in comparative safety.
The men held their position with an obstinacy that adds new laurels to the character of the American soldiers, but it was too late. Down on either flank came the overwhelming enemy. Fiercely pushed in front, with a wall of bayonets closing in on either side, like the contracting iron chamber of the Inquisition, what could they do but what they did? Speedily their resistance became less obstinate, more and more rapidly they fell back, less and less frequent became their returning volleys.
The enemy pushed their advantage. They were already within our lines; they had driven one division from all its camps, and nearly opened, as they supposed, the way to the river. Just here—between 9 and 10 o'clock—McArthur's Brigade of W. H. L. Wallace's Division came up to give some assistance to Stuart's Brigade of Sherman's Division on the extreme left, now in imminent danger ofbeing cut off by Prentiss's defection. McArthur mistook the way, marched too far to the right, and so, instead of reaching Stuart, came in on the other side of the Rebels, now closely pushing Prentiss. His men at once opened vigorously on the enemy, and for a time they seemed likely still to save our imperilled division. But coming unawares, as they seem to have done, upon the enemy, their positions were not well chosen, and all had to fall back together.
General Prentiss seems here to have become separated from a large portion of his command. The division fell into confusion; fragments of brigades and regiments continued the fight, but there was no longer concert of action or continuity of lines of defence. Most of the troops drifted back behind the new lines that were being formed; many, as they continued an isolated struggle, were surrounded and taken prisoners.
Practically, by 10 o'clock the division was gone. General Prentiss and the few troops that surrounded him maintained a detached position some hours longer, till they were completely cut off and surrounded; and the Rebels signalized their success by marching three regiments, with a division general, as prisoners, to their rear.
By 10 o'clock, however, this entire division was virtuallyhors du combat. A deep gap in our front line was made, the Rebels had nearly pierced through, and were only held back by McArthur's Brigade and the rest of W. H. L. Wallace's Division, which hurried over to its assistance.
For the present, let us leave them there. They held the line from this time until four.
We left Sherman's Brigade maintaining a confused fight, Hildebrand's about gone, Buckland's and McDowell'sholding their ground more tenaciously. The firing aroused McClernand's Division. At first they supposed it to be a mere skirmish; perhaps even only the irregular discharge of muskets by guards and pickets, to clean out their guns—a practice which, to the disgrace of our discipline be it said, was well nigh universal—and rendered it almost impossible at any time to know whether firing meant anything at all, beyond ordinary disorder of our own soldiers. But the continued rattle of musketry soon undeceived them, and almost as soon the advance of the Rebels, pouring after Hildebrand, was upon them.
The division, it will be remembered, lay a short distance in the rear, and with one brigade stretching out to the left of Sherman's line. Properly speaking, merely from the location of the camp, McClernand did not belong to the front line at all. Two-thirds of his division were entirely behind Sherman. But as the latter fell back, McClernand had to bear the shock of battle.
His division was composed as follows: First Brigade, Colonel Hare commanding, Eighth and Eighteenth Illinois, Eleventh and Thirteenth Iowa; Second Brigade, Colonel C. C. Marsh commanding, Eleventh, Twentieth, Forty-eighth and Forty-fifth Illinois, Colonels Ransom, Marsh, Haynie and Smith (the latter is the "lead mine regiment"); Third Brigade, Colonel Raith commanding, Seventeenth, Twenty-ninth and Forty-ninth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonels Wood, Farrell and Pease, and Forty-third Illinois, Colonel Marsh. Besides this fine show of experienced troops, they had Schwartz's, Dresser's, McAllister's and Waterhouse's Batteries.
As already stated, McClernand was first called into action shortly after the surprise of Sherman's left Brigade (Hildebrand's)—about 7 in the morning—by having tomove up his left brigade to support Sherman's retreating left, and preserve the line. Then, as Sherman's other brigades fell back, McClernand's moved up and engaged the enemy in support. Gradually the resistance in Buckland's Brigade and what was still left to its right of Hildebrand's, became more confused and irresolute. The line wavered, the men fell back in squads and companies, they failed to rally promptly at the call of their officers. As they retreated, the woods behind them became thinner, and there was less protection from the storm of grape that swept as if on blasts of a hurricane among the trees. Lieutenant-Colonel Canfield, commanding the Seventy-second Ohio, was mortally wounded and borne dying from the field. Colonel Sullivan, of the Forty-eighth Ohio, was wounded, but continued at the head of his men. Company officers fell and were carried away from their men.
At one of our wavering retreats, the Rebels, by a sudden dash forward, had taken part of Waterhouse's Battery, which McClernand had sent them over. Behr's Battery, too, was taken, and Taylor's Chicago Light Artillery was so terribly pounded as to be forced to retire with heavy loss. As the troops gave way, they came out from the open woods into old fields, completely raked by the enemy's fire. For them all was lost, and away went Buckland's and Hildebrand's Brigades, Ohioans and Illinoisans together, to the rear and right, in such order as they might.
McDowell's Brigade had fallen back less slowly than its two companions of the same division, but it was now left entirely alone. It had formed our extreme right, and, of course, had no support there; its supporting brigades on the left had gone; through the space they had occupiedthe Rebels were pouring; they were in imminent danger of being entirely cut off, and back they fell, too, still farther to the right and rear, among the ravines that border Snake Creek.
And here, so far as Sunday's fight is concerned, the greater part of Sherman's Division passes out of view. The General himself was indefatigable in collecting and reorganizing his men, and a straggling contest was doubtless kept up along portions of his new lines, but with little weight in inclining the scales of battle. The General bore with him one token of the danger to which he had exposed himself, a musket-ball through the hand. It was the common expression of all that his escape so lightly was wonderful. Whatever may be his faults or neglects, none can accuse him of a lack of gallantry and energy when the attack was made on his raw division that memorable Sunday morning.
To return to McClernand's Division: I have spoken of his sending up first, his left, and then his centre brigade, to support Sherman, shortly after the surprise. As Sherman fell back, McClernand was compelled to bring in his brigades again to protect his left against the onset of the Rebels, who, seeing how he had weakened himself there, and inspired by their recent success over Prentiss, hurled themselves against him with tremendous force. To avoid bringing back these troops, a couple of new regiments, the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Iowa, were brought up, but taking utterly raw troops on the field, under heavy fire, was too severe a trial for them, and they gave way in confusion. To meet the attack, then the whole division made a change of front, and faced along the Corinth road. Here the batteries were placed in position, and till 10 o'clock the Rebels were foiled in every attempt to gain the road.
But Sherman having now fallen back, there was nothing to prevent the Rebels from coming in, farther out on the road, and turning McClernand's right. Prompt to seize the advantage, a brigade of them went dashing audaciously through the division's abandoned camp, pushing up the road to come in above McClernand, between him and where Sherman had been. Dresser's Battery of rifled guns opened on them as they passed, and with fearful slaughter—not confined, alas! to one side only—drove them back.
But the enemy's reserves were most skillfully handled, and the constant advance of fresh regiments was, at last too much for our inferior numbers. Major Eaton, commanding the Eighteenth Illinois, was killed; Colonel Haynie was severely wounded; Colonel Raith, commanding a brigade, had his leg so shattered that amputation was necessary; Major Nevins, of the Eleventh Illinois, was wounded; Lieutenant-Colonel Ransom of the same regiment was wounded; three of General McClernand's staff, Major Schwartz, Major Stewart and Lieutenant Freeman, were wounded and carried from the field. Line officers had suffered heavily. The batteries were broken up. Schwartz had lost half his guns and sixteen horse. Dresser had lost several of his rifled pieces, three caissons and eighteen horses. McAllister had lost half his twenty-four-pound howitzers.
The soldiers fought bravely to the last—let no man question that—but they were at a fearful disadvantage. Gradually they began falling back, more slowly than had Prentiss's regiments, or part of Sherman's, making more determined, because better organized, resistance, occasionally rallying and repulsing the enemy in turn for a hundred yards, then being beaten back again, and renewing the retreat to some new position for fresh defence.
By 11 o'clock the division was back in a line with Hurlbut's. It still did some gallant fighting; once its right swept around and drove the enemy for a considerable distance, but again fell back, and at the last it brought up near the position of W. H. L. Wallace's camps.
We have seen how Prentiss, Sherman, McClernand were driven back; how, fight as fiercely as they would, they still lost ground; how their camps were all in the hands of the enemy; and how this whole front line, for which Hurlbut and Wallace were but the reserves, was gone.
But the fortunes of the isolated brigade of Sherman's Division, on the extreme left, must not be forgotten. It was doubly let alone by the Generals. General Grant did not arrive on the field till after nearly all these disasters had crowded upon us, and each Division General had done that which was good in his own eyes, and carried on the battle independent of the rest; but this brigade was even left by its Division General, who was four miles away, doing his best to rally his panic-stricken regiments there.
It was Commanded by Colonel David Stuart, (of late Chicago divorce-case fame, and ex-Congressman,) and was composed of the Fifty-fifth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel Malmbourg, commanding; Seventy-first Ohio, Colonel Rodney Mason; the Fifty-fourth Ohio, (Zouaves,) Colonel T. K. Smith. It was posted along the circuitous road from Pittsburgh Landing, up the river to Hamburgh, some two miles from the Landing, and near the crossing of Lick Creek, the bluffs on the opposite side of which commanded the position, and stretching on down to join Prentiss's Division on its right. In selecting the grounds for the encampment of our army, it seems to have been forgotten that from Corinth an excellent road led direct to Hamburgh, a few miles above this left wing of our forces.Within a few days, the oversight had indeed been discovered, and the determination had been expressed to land Buell's forces at Hamburgh, when they arrived, and thus make all safe. It was unfortunate, of course, that Beauregard and Johnston did not wait for us to perfect our pleasing arrangements.
LIEUTENANT GENERAL SHERIDAN.
LIEUTENANT GENERAL SHERIDAN.
When the Rebels marched out from Corinth, a couple of brigades (rumored to be under the command of Breckinridge) had taken this road, and thus easily, and without molestation reached the bluffs of Lick Creek, commanding Stuart's position.
During the attack on Prentiss, Stuart's Brigade was formed along the road, the left resting near the Lick Creek Ford, the right, Seventy-first Ohio, Colonel Rodney Mason, (late Assistant Adjutant-General of Ohio, and Colonel of the Second Ohio at Manassas,) being nearest Prentiss. The first intimation they had of disaster to their right was the partial cessation of firing. An instant afterward muskets were seen glinting among the leaves, and presently a Rebel column emerged from a bend in the road, with banners flying and moving at double-quick down the road toward them. Their supports to the left were further off than the Rebels, and it was at once seen that, with but one piece of artillery a single regiment could do nothing there. They accordingly fell rapidly back toward the ford, and were re-formed in an orchard near the other regiments.
The Rebel column veered on further to the right, in search of Prentiss's flying troops, and for a brief space, though utterly isolated, they were unmolested.
Before ten, however, the brigade, which had still stood listening to the surging roar of battle on the left, was startled by the screaming of a shell that came directly over their heads. In an instant the batteries of the Rebel forcethat had gained the commanding bluffs opposite, by approaching on the Corinth and Hamburgh road, were in full play, and the orchards and open fields in which they were posted (looking only for attack in the opposite direction) were swept with the exploding shells and hail-storm rush of grape.
Under cover of this fire from the bluffs, the Rebels rushed down, crossed the ford, and in a moment were seen forming this side of the creek, in open fields also, and within close musket range. Their color-bearers stepped defiantly to the front, as the engagement opened furiously, the Rebels pouring in sharp, quick volleys of musketry, and their batteries above continuing to support them with a destructive fire. Our sharpshooters wanted to pick off the audacious Rebel color-bearers, but Colonel Stuart interposed: "No, no, they're too brave fellows to be killed." Almost at the first fire, Lieutenant-Colonel Barton S. Kyle, of the Seventy-first, was shot through the breast. The brigade stood for scarcely ten minutes, when it became evident that its position was untenable, and they fell rapidly back, perhaps a quarter of a mile, to the next ridge; a few of his men, at great personal risk, carrying Lieutenant-Colonel Kyle, in a dying condition, from the field they were abandoning. Ohio lost no braver, truer man that day.
As they reached the next woody ridge, Rebel cavalry, that had crossed the creek lower down, were seen coming up on their left; and to resist this new attack the line of battle was formed, fronting in that direction. For three quarters of an hour the brigade stood here. The cavalry, finding its purpose foiled, did not come within range. In front they were hard pressed, and the Rebels, who had followed Prentiss, began to come in on their right. ColonelStuart had sent across to Brigadier-General W. H. L. Wallace, then not engaged, for support. Brigadier-General McArthur's Brigade was promptly started across, but mistaking the way, and bearing too much on the right, it speedily found itself in the midst of the Rebel forces, that had poured in after Prentiss. General McArthur could thus render Stuart's Brigade no assistance, but he vigorously engaged the Rebels to his front and flanks, fell back to a good position, and held these troops in bay till the rest of his division came up to his aid. General McArthur was himself disabled by a wound in the foot, but he rode into a hospital, had it dressed, and returned to the brigade, which meantime sturdily held its position.
But this brought Stuart's isolated brigade little help. They were soon forced to fall back to another ridge, then to another, and finally, about 12 o'clock, badly shattered and disordered, they retreated to the right and rear, falling in behind General McArthur's Brigade to reorganize. Colonel Stuart was himself wounded by a ball through his right shoulder, and the loss of field and company-officers was sufficient to greatly discourage the troops.
This clears our entire front line of divisions. The enemy has full possession of all Sherman's, Prentiss's, and McClernand's camps. By 10 o'clock our whole front, except Stuart's Brigade, had given way, and the burden of the fight was resting on Hurlbut and W. H. L. Wallace. Before 12 Stuart, too, had come back, and for the time absolutely only those two divisions stood between our army and destruction or surrender.
Still all was not lost. Hurlbut and Wallace began making a most gallant stand; and meantime most of the troops from the three driven divisions were still to some extent available. Many of them had wandered down theriver—some as far as Crump's Landing, and some even to Savannah. These were brought back again on transports. Lines of guards were extended to prevent skulkers from getting back to the Landing, and especially to stop the shrewd dodge among the cravans of taking six or eight able-bodied soldiers to assist some slightly-wounded fellow into the hospital; and between this cordon and the rear of the fighting divisions the fragments of regiments were reorganized after a fashion, and sent back to the field. Brigades could not be got together again, much less divisions, but the regiments pieced together from the loose squads that could be gathered and officered, often by men who could find scarcely a soldier of their own commands, were hurried to the front, and many of them did good service.
It was fortunate for us that the accidental circumstance that Prentiss's portion of our lines had been completely broken sooner than any of the rest, had caused the enemy's onset to veer chiefly to our left. There we were tolerably safe; and at worst, if the Rebels drove us to the river on the left flank, the gunboats would come into play. Our weakest point was the right, and to turning this the Rebels do not seem to have paid so much attention on Sunday.
According to general understanding, in the event of an attack at Pittsburgh Landing, Major-General Lew. Wallace was to come in on our right and flank the Rebels by marching across from Crump's Landing below. Yet strangely enough, Wallace, though with his division all drawn up and ready to march anywhere at a moment's notice, was not ordered to Pittsburgh Landing till nearly if not quite 12 o'clock. Then through misdirection as to the way to come in on the flank, four miles of marching werelost, and the circuitous route made it twelve miles more, before they could reach the scene of battle. Meantime our right was almost wholly unprotected. Fortunately, as I said, however, the Rebels do not seem to have discovered the full extent of this weakness, and their heaviest fighting was done on the centre and left, where we still preserved our line.
Hurlbut's Division, it will be remembered, stretched across the Corinth road, facing rather to our left. W. H. L. Wallace's other brigades had gone over to assist McArthur, and the division, thus reunited, steadily closed the line, where Prentiss's Division and Stuart's Brigade, in their retreat, had left it open. To Hurlbut's right the lines were patched out with the reorganized regiments that had been resent to the field. McClernand and Sherman were both there.
Hurlbut had been encamped in the edge nearest the river, of a stretch of open fields, backed with heavy timber. Among his troops were the Seventeenth and Twenty-fifth Kentucky, Forty-fourth and Thirty-first Indiana, constituting Lauman's Brigade; Third Iowa, Forty-first Illinois and some others, forming Colonel Williams' Brigade.
As Prentiss fell back, Hurlbut's left aided Wallace in sustaining the Rebel onset, and when McClernand gave way, the remainder of the division was thrown forward. The position beyond the camp, however, was not a good one, and the division was compelled to fall back through its camp to the thick woods behind. Here, with open fields before them, they could rake the Rebel approach. Nobly did they now stand their ground. From 10 to half-past 3 they held the enemy in check, and through nearly that whole time were actively engaged. Hurlbut himself displayed the most daring and brilliant gallantry, and hisexample, with that of the brave officers under him, nerved the men to the sternest endurance.
Three times during those long hours the heavy Rebel masses on the left charged upon the division, and three times were they repulsed, with terrible slaughter. Close, sharp, continuous musketry, whole lines belching fire on the Rebels as the leaden storm swept the fields over which they attempted to advance, were too much for Rebel discipline, though the bodies left scattered over the fields, even on Monday evening, bore ghastly testimony to the daring with which they had been precipitated toward our lines.
But there is still much in the Napoleonic theory that Providence has a tendency at least to go with the heaviest battalions. The battalions were against us. The Rebel generals, too, handled their forces with a skill that extorted admiration in the midst of our suffering. Repulse was nothing to them. A rush on our lines failed; they took their disordered troops to the rear, and sent up fresh troops, who, unknowing the fearful reception awaiting them, were ready to try it again. The jaded division was compelled to yield, and after six hours' magnificent fighting, it fell back out of sight of its camps, and to a point within half a mile of the Landing.
Let us turn to the fate of Hurlbut's companion division—that of Brigadier-General W. H. L. Wallace, which included the Second and Seventh Iowa, Ninth and Twenty-eighth Illinois, and several of the other regiments composing Major-General Smith's old division; with also three excellent batteries, Stone's, Richardson's and Weber's (all from Missouri), forming an artillery battalion, under the general management of Major Cavender.
Here, too, the fight began about ten o'clock, as already described. From that time until four in the afternoonthey manfully bore up. The musketry fire was absolutely continuous; there was scarcely a moment that some part of the line was not pouring in it rattling volleys, and the artillery was admirably served, with but little intermission through the entire time.
Once or twice the infantry advanced, attempting to drive the continually increasing enemy, but though they could hold what they had, their numbers were not equal to the task of conquering any more.
Four separate times the Rebels attempted to turn to charge on them. Each time the infantry poured in its quickest volleys, the artillery redoubled its exertions, and the Rebels retreated with heavy slaughter. The division was eager to remain, even when Hurlbut fell back, and the fine fellows with the guns were particularly indignant at not being permitted to pound away. But their supports were gone on either side; to have remained in isolated advance would have been madness. Just as the necessity for retreating was becoming apparent, General Wallace, whose cool, collected bravery had commanded the admiration of all, was mortally wounded, and borne away from the field. At last the division fell back. Its soldiers claim—justly, I believe—the proud distinction of being the last to yield, in the general break of our lines, that gloomy Sunday afternoon, which, at half past four o'clock, had left most of our army within half a mile of the Landing, with the Rebels up to a thousand yards of their position.
Captain Stone could not resist the temptation of stopping, as he passed what had been Hurlbut's headquarters, to try a few parting shots. He did fine execution, but narrowly escaped losing some guns, by having his wheel horses shot down. Captain Walker did lose a twenty pounder through some breakage in the carriage. It was recovered again on Monday.
The Close of Sunday's Fight—What had been Lost During the Day—Five Thousand Cowards on the River Bank—Opportune Arrival of General Buell—The Grand Attack and its Grand Repulse—Aid from the Gunboats—The Night Between Two Battles—Desperate Preparations for the Morrow—Gunboats on Guard Through the Darkness.
The Close of Sunday's Fight—What had been Lost During the Day—Five Thousand Cowards on the River Bank—Opportune Arrival of General Buell—The Grand Attack and its Grand Repulse—Aid from the Gunboats—The Night Between Two Battles—Desperate Preparations for the Morrow—Gunboats on Guard Through the Darkness.
The remainder of Sunday's desperate fighting, and the grim preparations and anxieties of Sunday night, are rehearsed by "Agate" thus:
We have reached the last act in the tragedy of Sunday. It is half-past 4 o'clock. Our front line of divisions has been lost since half-past 10. Our reserve line is now gone, too. The Rebels occupy the camps of every division save that of W. H. L. Wallace. Our whole army is crowded in the region of Wallace's camps, and to a circuit of one-half to two-thirds of a mile around the Landing. We have been falling back all day. We can do it no more. The next repulse puts us into the river, and there are not transports enough to cross a single division till the enemy would be upon us.
Lew. Wallace's Division might turn the tide for us—it is made of fighting men—but where is it? Why has it not been thundering on the right for three hours past? We do not know yet that it was not ordered up till noon.Buell is coming, but he has been doing it all day, and all last week. His advance-guard is across the river now, waiting ferriage; but what is an advance-guard, with sixty thousand victorious foes in front of us?
We have lost nearly all our camps and camp equipage. We have lost nearly half our field artillery. We have lost a division general and two or three regiments of our soldiers as prisoners. We have lost—how dreadfully we are afraid to think—in killed and wounded. The hospitals are full to overflowing. A long ridge bluff is set apart for surgical uses. It is covered with the maimed, the dead and dying. And our men are discouraged by prolonged defeat. Nothing but the most energetic exertion on the part of the officers, prevents them from becoming demoralized. Regiments have lost their favorite field-officers; companies the captains whom they have always looked to, with that implicit faith the soldier learns, to lead them to battle.
Meanwhile, there is a lull in the firing. For the first time since sunrise you fail to catch the angry rattle of musketry or the heavy booming of the field-guns. Either the enemy must be preparing for the grand, final rush that is to crown the day's success and save the Southern Confederacy, or they are puzzled by our last retreat, and are moving cautiously, lest we spring some trap upon them. Let us embrace the opportunity, and look about the Landing. We pass the old log-house, lately post office, now full of wounded and surgeons, which constitute the "Pittsburgh" part of the landing. General Grant and staff are in a group beside it. The general is confident. "We can hold them off till to-morrow; and they'll be exhausted, and we'll go at them, with fresh troops." A great crowd is collected around the building—all in uniforms, most ofthem with guns. And yet we are needing troops in the front so sorely!
On the bluffs above the river is a sight that may well make our cheeks tingle. There are not less than five thousand skulkers lining the banks! Ask them why they don't go to their places in the line: "Oh! our regiment is all cut to pieces." "Why don't you go to where it is forming again?" "I can't find it," and the hulk looks as if that would be the very last thing he would want to do.
Officers are around among them, trying to hunt up their men, storming, coaxing, commanding—cursing I am afraid. One strange fellow—a Major, if I remember aright—is making a sort of elevated, superfine Fourth of July speech to everybody that will listen to him. He means well, certainly: "Men of Kentucky, of Illinois, of Ohio, of Iowa, of Indiana, I implore you, I beg of you, come up now. Help us through two hours more. By all that you hold dear, by the homes you hope to defend, by the flag you love, by the States you honor, by all our love of country, by all your hatred of treason, I conjure you, come up and do your duty, now!" And so on for quantity. "That feller's a good speaker," was the only response I heard, and the fellow who gave it nestled more snugly behind his tree as he spoke.
I knew well enough the nature of the skulking animal in an army during a battle. I had seen their performances before, but never on so large a scale, never with such an utter sickness of heart while I look, as now. Still, I do not believe there was very much more than the average percentage. It was a big army, and the runaways all sought the landing.
Looking across the Tennessee we see a body of cavalry, awaiting the transportation over. They are said to beBuell's advance, yet they have been there an hour or two alone. But suddenly there is a rustle among the runaways. It is! It is! You see the gleaming of the gun-barrels, you catch amid the leaves and undergrowth down the opposite side of the river, glimpses of the steady, swinging tramp of trained soldiers. A Division of Buell's army is here! And the men who have left their regiments on the field send up three cheers for Buell. They cheering! May it parch their throats, as if they had been breathing the simoon!
Here comes a boat across with a Lieutenant, and two or three privates of the signal corps. Some orders are instantly given the officer, and as instantly telegraphed to the other side by the mysterious wavings and raisings and droppings of the flags. A steamer comes up with pontoons on board, with which a bridge could be speedily thrown across. Unaccountably enough, to on-lookers, she slowly reconnoiters and steams back again. Perhaps, after all it is better to have no bridge there. It simplifies the question, takes escape out of the count, and leaves its victory or death—to the cowards, that slink behind the bluffs as well as to the brave men who peril their lives to do the State some service on the fields beyond. Preparations go rapidly forward for crossing the Division (General Nelson's, which has the advance of Buell's army) on the dozen or so transports that have been tied up along the bank.
We have spent but a few minutes on the bluff, but they are the golden minutes that count for years. Well was it for that driven, defeated, but not disgraced army of General Grant's that those minutes were improved. Colonel Webster, Chief of Staff, and an artillery officer of no mean ability, had arranged the guns that he could collectof those that remained to us in a sort of semi-circle, protecting the Landing, and bearing chiefly on our centre and left, by which the Rebels were pretty sure to advance. Corps of artillerists to man them were improvised from all the batteries that could be collected. Twenty-two guns in all were placed in position. Two of them were heavy siege-guns, long thirty-two. Where they came from I do not know; what battery they belonged to I have no idea; I only know that they were there, in the right place, half a mile back from the bluff, sweeping the approaches by the left, and by the ridge Corinth road; that there was nobody to work them; that Doctor Cornyn, Surgeon of Frank Blair's Old First Missouri Artillery, proffered his services, that they were gladly accepted, and that he did work them to such effect as to lay out ample work for scores of his professional brethren on the other side of the fight.
Remember the situation. It was half past four o'clock—perhaps a quarter later still. Every division of our army on the field had been repulsed. The enemy were in the camps of four out of five of them. We were driven to within a little over half a mile of the Landing. Behind us was a deep, rapid river. Before us was a victorious enemy. And still there was an hour for fighting. "Oh! that night, or Blucher, would come!" Oh! that night, or Lew. Wallace, would come! Nelson's Division of General Buell's army evidently couldn't cross in time to do us much good. We didn't yet know why Lew. Wallace wasn't on the ground. In the justice of a righteous cause, and in that semi-circle of twenty-two guns in position, lay all the hope we could see.
Suddenly a broad, sulphurous flash of light leaped out from the darkening woods; and through the glare and smoke came whistling the leaden hail. The Rebels weremaking their crowning effort for the day, and as was expected when our guns were hastily placed, they came from our left and centre. They had wasted their fire at one thousand yards. Instantaneously our deep-mouthed bull-dogs flung out their sonorous response. The Rebel artillery opened, and shell and round-shot came tearing across the open space back of the bluff. May I be forgiven for the malicious thought, but I certainly did wish one or two might drop behind the bluff among the crowd of skulkers hovering under the hill at the river's edge.
Very handsome was the response our broken infantry battalions poured in. The enemy soon had reason to remember that, if not "still in their ashes live the wonted fires," at least still in the fragments lived the ancient valor that had made the short-lived Rebels' successes already cost so dear.
The Rebel infantry gained no ground, but the furious cannonading and musketry continued. Suddenly new actors entered on the stage. Our Cincinnati wooden gunboats, the A. O. Taylor and the Lexington, had been all day impatiently chafing for their time to come. The opportunity was theirs. The Rebels were attacking on our left, lying where Stuart's Brigade had lain on Licking Creek in the morning, and stretching thence in on the Hamburgh Road, and across toward our old centre as far as Hurlbut's camps. Steaming up to the mouth of the little creek, the boats rounded to. There was the ravine, cut through the bluff as if on purpose for their shells.
Eager to avenge the death of their commanding General (now known to have been killed a couple of hours before) and to complete the victory they believed to be within their grasp, the Rebels had incautiously ventured within reach of their most dreaded antagonists, as broadside afterbroadside of seven-inch shells and sixty-four-pounds shot soon taught them. This was a foe they had hardly counted on, and the unexpected fire in flank and rear sadly disconcerted their well-laid plans. The boats fired admirably, and with a rapidity that was astonishing. Our twenty-two land-guns kept up their stormy thunder; and thus, amid a crash and roar and scream of shells and demon-like hiss of minie-balls, the Sabbath evening wore away. We held the enemy at bay; it was enough. The prospects for the morrow was foreboding; but sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. We had plenty of evil that day—of course, therefore, the text was applicable. Before dark the Thirty-sixth Indiana, from Nelson's Advance Brigade, had crossed, advanced into line with Grant's forces at the double-quick, and had put in fourteen rounds as an earnest of what should be forth-coming on the morrow.
The enemy suddenly slackened his fire. His grand object had been defeated; he had not finished his task in a day; but there is evidence that officers and men alike shared the confidence that their morning assault would be final.
As the sounds of battle died away, and Division Generals drew off their men, Buell had arrived, and Lew. Wallace had been heard from. Both would be ready by morning. It was decided that as soon as possible after daybreak we should attack the enemy, now snugly quartered in our camps. Lew. Wallace, who was coming in on the new road from Crump's Landing, and crossing Snake Creek just above the Illinois Wallace (W. H. L.) camps, was to take the right and sweep back towards the position from which Sherman had been driven on Sunday morning. Nelson was to take the extreme left. Buell promised to put in Tom Crittenden next to Nelson, and McCook nextto him by a seasonable hour in the morning. The gap between McCook and Lew. Wallace was to be filled with the reorganized division of Grant's old army; Hurlbut coming next to McCook, then McClernand and Sherman closing the gap between McClernand and Lew. Wallace.
Stealthily the troops crept to their new positions and lay down in line of battle on their arms. All through the night Buell's men were marching up from Savannah to the point opposite Pittsburgh Landing and being ferried across, or were coming up on transports. By an hour after dark Lew. Wallace had his division in. Through the misdirection he had received from General Grant at noon, he had started on the Snake Creek road proper, which would have brought him in on the enemy's rear, miles from support, and where he would have been gobbled at a mouthful. Getting back to the right road had delayed him. He at once ascertained the position of certain Rebel batteries which lay in front of him on our right, that threatened absolutely to bar his advance in the morning, and selected positions for a couple of his batteries, from which they could silence the one he dreaded. Placing these in position, and arranging his brigades for support, took him till one o'clock in the morning. Then his wearied men lay down to snatch a few hours of sleep before entering into the Valley of the Shadow of Death on the morrow.
By nine o'clock all was hushed near the Landing. The host of combatants that three hours before had been deep in the work of human destruction had all sunk silently to the earth, "the wearied to sleep, the wounded to die." The stars looked out upon the scene, and all breathed the natural quiet and calm of a Sabbath evening. But presently there came a flash that spread like sheet lightning over the ripples of the river-current, and the roar of a heavynaval gun went echoing up and down the bluffs, through the unnatural stillness of the night. Others speedily followed. By the flash you could just discern the black outline of the piratical-looking hull, and see how the gunboat gracefully settled into the water at the recoil: the smoke soon cast up a thin veil that seemed only to soften and sweeten the scene, from the woods away inland you caught faintly the muffled explosion of the shell, like the knell of the spirit that was taking its flight.
We knew nothing then of the effect of this gunboat cannonading, which was vigorously kept up till nearly morning, and it only served to remind us the more vividly of the day's disasters, of the fact that half a mile off lay a victorious enemy, commanded by the most dashing of their generals, and of the question one scarcely dared ask himself: "What to-morrow?" We were defeated, our dead and dying were around us, days could hardly sum up our losses. And then there came up that grand refrain of Whittier's—written after Manassas, I believe, but on that night, apparently far more applicable to this greater than Manassas—"Under the Cloud and Through the Sea."