In the morning, when the Rebels commenced the attack, you remember that Breckenridge, with the Rebel reserves, was in the rear; that he moved east, and came down towards the river in front of Stuart’s brigade. General Johnston and staff were upon the hills which border the creek, examining the ground in front of Stuart and Hurlburt. Ross, Mann, and Walker were throwing shells across the creek.
General Breckenridge rode up to General Johnston and conversed with him.
“I will lead your men into the fight to-day, for I intend to show these Tennesseeans and Kentuckians that I am no coward,” said Johnston to Breckenridge.[10]
The people of the Southwest thought he was a coward, because he had abandoned Nashville without a fight.
Breckenridge brought up Statham’s and Bowen’sbrigades against Hurlburt. He formed his line in the edge of the woods on the opposite side of the field. After an artillery fire of an hour, he moved into the centre of the field, rushed through the peach-orchard, and came close to Hurlburt’s line by the log-cabin. But the field was fenced with fire. There was constant flashing from the muskets, with broad sheets of flame from the artillery. The Rebels were repulsed with shattered ranks.
Breckenridge sent his special aid to General Johnston for instructions.[11]As the aid rode up, a shell exploded above the General and his staff. A fragment cut through General Johnston’s right thigh, severing an artery. He was taken from his horse, and died on the field at half past two o’clock.
General Beauregard assumed command, and gave orders to keep General Johnston’s death a secret, that the troops might not be discouraged.
Three times Breckenridge attempted to force Hurlburt back by attacking him in front, but as often as he advanced he was driven back. It was sad to see the wounded drag themselves back to the woods, to escape the storm, more terrible than the blast of the simoom, sweeping over the field. Hurlburt’s regiments fired away all their ammunition, and Prentiss who had ralliedhis men, advanced to the front while the cartridge-boxes were refilled.
While this was doing, General Bragg gave up the command of his line in front of Wallace to another officer and rode down towards the river in front of Hurlburt and Prentiss. He says:—
“There I found a strong force, consisting of three parts without a common head; being General Breckenridge with his reserve division pressing the enemy; Brigadier-General Withers with his division utterly exhausted, and taking a temporary rest; and Major-General Cheatham’s division of Major-General Polk’s command to their left and rear. The troops were soon put in motion again, responding with great alacrity to the command, ‘Forward!’”[12]
Just at this moment General Wallace, on the right, was mortally wounded.
It was like taking away half the strength of his division. The men lost heart in a moment. The power which had inspired them was gone. The brave man was carried to the rear, followed by his division. The giving way of this division, and the falling back of Prentiss before the masses flanking the extreme left, was most disastrous. Prentiss was surrounded and taken prisoner with the remnant of his division, and Hurlburt’s camp fell into the hands of the Rebels.
Of this movement General Bragg says: “The enemy were driven headlong from every position, and thrown in confused masses upon the river-bank, behind his heavy artillery and under cover of his gunboats at the Landing. He had left nearly all his light artillery in our hands, and some three thousand or more prisoners, who were cut off from their retreat by the closing in of our troops on the left under Major-General Polk, with a portion of his reserve corps, and Brigadier-General Ruggles, with Anderson’s and Pond’s brigades of his division.”[13]
The woods rang with the exultant shouts of the Rebels, as Prentiss and his men were marched towards Corinth. They had possession of the camps of all the divisions except Wallace’s. Beauregard had redeemed his promise. They could sleep in the enemy’s camps.
Look at the situation of General Grant’s army. It is crowded back almost to the Landing. It is not more than a mile from the river to the extreme right, where Sherman and McClernand are trying to rally their disorganized divisions. All is confusion. Half of the artillery is lost. Many of the guns remaining are disabled. Some that are good are deserted by the artillerymen.There is a stream of fugitives to the Landing, who are thinking only how to escape. There are thousands on the river-bank, crowding upon the transports. They have woeful stories. Instead of being in their places, and standing their ground like men, they have deserted their brave comrades, and left them to be overwhelmed by the superior force of the enemy.
As you look at the position of the army and the condition of the troops at this hour, just before sunset, there is not much to hope for. But there are some men who have not lost heart. “We shall hold them yet,” says General Grant.
An officer with gold-lace bands upon his coat-sleeve, and a gold band on his cap, walks up-hill from the Landing. It is an officer of the gunboat Tyler, commanded by Captain Gwin, who thinks he can be of some service. Shot and shells from the Rebel batteries have been falling in the river, and he would like to toss some into the woods.
“Tell Captain Gwin to use his own discretion and judgment,” is the reply.
The officer hastens back to the Tyler. The Lexington is by her side. The men spring to the guns, and the shells go tearing up the ravine, exploding in the Rebel ranks, now massed for the last grand assault. All day long the men of the gunboats have heard the roar of the conflict coming nearer and nearer, and have hadno opportunity to take a part, but now their time has come. The vessels sit gracefully upon the placid river. They cover themselves with white clouds, and the deep-mouthed cannon bellow their loudest thunders, which roll miles away along the winding stream. It is sweet music to those disheartened men forming to resist the last advance of the Rebels, now almost within reach of the coveted prize.
Colonel Webster, General Grant’s chief of staff, an engineer and artillerist, with a quick eye, has selected a line of defence. There is a deep ravine just above Pittsburg Landing, which extends northwest half a mile. There are five heavy siege-guns, three thirty-two-pounders, and two eight-inch howitzers on the top of the bluff by the Landing. They have been standing there a week, but there are no artillerists to man them. Volunteers are called for. Dr. Cornyn, Surgeon of the First Missouri Artillery, offers his services. Artillerists who have lost their guns are collected. Round shot and shell are carried up from the boats. Fugitives who have lost their regiments are put to work. Pork-barrels are rolled up and placed in a line. Men go to work with spades, and throw up a rude embankment. The heavy guns are wheeled into position to sweep the ravine and all the ground beyond. Everything is done quickly. There isno time for delay. Men work as never before. Unless they can check the enemy, all is lost. Energy, activity, determination, endurance, and bravery must be concentrated into this last effort.
The Fight at the Ravine.The Fight at the Ravine.
1Union batteries.4Gunboats.2Rebel batteries.5Transports.3Ravine.
1Union batteries.4Gunboats.2Rebel batteries.5Transports.3Ravine.
Commencing nearest the river, on the ridge of the ravine, you see two of McAllister’s twenty-four-pounders, next four of Captain Stone’s ten pounders, then Captain Walker with one twenty-pounder, then Captain Silversparre with fourtwenty-pounder Parrott guns, which throw rifled projectiles, then two twenty-pound howitzers, which throw grape and canister. Then you come to the road which leads up to Shiloh church. There you see six brass field-pieces; then Captain Richardson’s battery of four twenty-pounder Parrott guns; then a six-pounder and two twelve-pound howitzers of Captain Powell’s battery; then the siege-guns, under Surgeon Cornyn and Captain Madison; then two ten-pounders, under Lieutenant Edwards, and two more under Lieutenant Timony. There are more guns beyond,—Taylor’s, Willard’s, and what is left of Schwartz’s battery, and Mann’s, Dresser’s, and Ross’s,—about sixty guns in all. The broken regiments are standing or lying down. The line, instead of being four miles long, as it was in the morning, is not more than a mile in length now. The regiments are all mixed up. There are men from a dozen in one, but they can fight notwithstanding that.
The Rebel commanders concentrate all their forces near the river, to charge through the ravine, scale the other side, rush down the road and capture the steamboats. They plant their batteries along the bank, bringing up all their guns, to cut their way by shot and shell. If they can but gain a foothold on the other side, the day is theirs. The Union army will be annihilated, Tennesseeredeemed. Buell will be captured or pushed back to the Ohio River. The failing fortunes of the Confederacy will revive. Recognition by foreign nations will be secured. How momentous the hour!
Beauregard’s troops were badly cut to pieces, and very much disorganized. The Second Texas, which had advanced through the peach-orchard, was all gone, and was not reorganized during the fight. Colonel Moore, commanding a brigade, says: “So unexpected was the shock, that the whole line gave way from right to left in utter confusion. The regiments became so scattered and mixed that all efforts to reform them became fruitless.”[14]
Chalmers’s brigade was on the extreme right. What was left of Jackson’s came next. Breckenridge, with his shattered brigades, was behind Chalmers. Trabue, commanding a brigade of Kentuckians, was comparatively fresh. Withers’s, Cheatham’s, and Ruggles’s divisions were at the head of the ravine. Gibson, who had been almost annihilated, was there. Stewart, Anderson, Stephens, and Pond were on the ground from which Wallace had been driven. As the brigades filed past Beauregard, he said to them, “Forward, boys, and drive them into the Tennessee.”[15]
The Rebel cannon open. A sulphurous cloudborders the bank. The wild uproar begins again. Opposite, another cloud rolls upward. There are weird shriekings across the chasm, fierce howlings from things unseen. Great oaks are torn asunder, broken, shattered, splintered. Cannon are overturned by invisible bolts. There are explosions in the earth and in the air. Men, horses, wagons, are lifted up, thrown down, torn to pieces, dashed against the trees. Commands are cut short; for while the words are on the lips the tongue ceases to articulate, the muscles relax, and the heart stops its beating,—all the springs of life broken in an instant.
Wilder, deeper, louder the uproar. Great shells from the gunboats fly up the ravine. The gunners aim at the cloud along the southern bank. They rake the Rebel lines, while the artillery massed in front cuts them through and through.
Bragg orders an advance. The brigades enter the ravine, sheltered in front by the tall trees above and the tangled undergrowth beneath. They push towards the northern slope.
“Grape and canister now!”
“Give them double charges!”
“Lower your guns!”
“Quick! Fire!”
The words run along the line. Moments are ages now. Seconds are years. How fast menlive when everything is at stake! Ah! but how fast they die down in that ravine! Up, down, across, through, over it, drive the withering blasts, cutting, tearing, sweeping through the column, which shakes, wavers, totters, crumbles, disappears.
General Chalmers says: “We received orders from General Bragg to drive the enemy into the river. My brigade, together with General Jackson’s brigade, filed to the right, formed facing the river, and endeavored to press forward to the water’s edge; but in attempting to mount the last ridge, we were met by a fire from a whole line of batteries, protected by infantry and assisted by shells from the gunboats. Our men struggled vainly to ascend the hill, which was very steep, making charge after charge without success; but continued the fight till night closed hostilities.”[16]
Says Colonel Fagan, of the First Arkansas, of Gibson’s brigade:—
“Three different times did we go into that ‘Valley of Death,’ and as often were forced back by overwhelming numbers, intrenched in a strong position. That all was done that could possibly be done, the heaps of killed and wounded left there give ample evidence.”[17]
Colonel Allen, of the Fourth Louisiana, says:—
“A murderous fire was poured into us from the masked batteries of grape and canister, and also from the rifle-pits. The regiment retired, formed again, and again charged. There fell many of my bravest and best men, in the thick brushwood, without ever seeing the enemy.”[18]
It is sunset. The day has gone. It has been a wild, fierce, disastrous conflict. Beauregard has pushed steadily on towards the Landing. He is within musket-shot of the steamers, of the prize he so much covets. He has possession of all but one of the division camps. He can keep his promise made to his soldiers; they can sleep in the camps of the Union army. This is his first serious check. He has lost many men. His commander-in-chief is killed, but he is confident he can finish in the morning the work which has gone on so auspiciously, for Buell has not arrived.
He has done a good day’s work. His men have fought well, but they are exhausted. Tomorrow morning he will finish General Grant. Thus he reasons.[19]
General Grant was right in his calculations. The Rebels have been checked at last. At sunset they who stand upon the hill by the Landing discover on the opposite bank men running up the road, panting for breath. Above them waves theStars and Stripes. There is a buzz, a commotion, among the thousands by the river-side.
“It is Buell’s advance!”
“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”
The shouts ring through the forest. The wounded lift their weary heads, behold the advancing line, and weep tears of joy. The steamers cast off their fastenings. The great wheels plash the gurgling water. They move to the other side. The panting soldiers of the army of the Ohio rush on board. The steamer settles to the guards with her precious cargo of human life; recrosses the river in safety. The line of blue winds up the bank. It is Nelson’s division. McCook’s and Crittenden’s divisions are at Savannah. Lewis Wallace’s division from Crump’s Landing is filing in upon the right, in front of Sherman and McClernand. There will be four fresh divisions on Monday morning. The army is safe. Buell will not be pushed back to the Ohio. Recognition will not come from France and England in consequence of the great Rebel victory at Shiloh.
Through the night the shells from the gunboats crashed along the Rebel lines. So destructive was the fire, that Beauregard was obliged to fall back from the position he had won by such a sacrifice of life. There was activity at the Landing. The steamers went to Savannah, took onboard McCook’s and Crittenden’s divisions of Buell’s army, and transported them to Pittsburg. Few words were spoken as they marched up the hill in the darkness, with the thousands of wounded on either hand, but there were many silent thanksgivings that they had come. The wearied soldiers lay down in battle line to broken sleep, with their loaded guns beside them. The sentinels stood, like statues, in silence on the borders of that valley of death, watching and waiting for the morning.
The battle-cloud hung like a pall above the forest. The gloom and darkness deepened. The stars, which had looked calmly down from the depths of heaven, withdrew from the scene. A horrible scene! for the exploding shells had set the forest on fire. The flames consumed the withered leaves and twigs of the thickets, and crept up to the helpless wounded, to friend and foe alike. There was no hand but God’s to save them. He heard their cries and groans. The rain came, extinguishing the flames. It drenched the men in arms, waiting for daybreak to come to renew the strife, but there were hundreds of wounded, parched with fever, restless with pain, who thanked God for the rain.
Beauregard laid his plans to begin the attack at daybreak. Grant and Buell resolved to do the same,—not to stand upon the defensive, but to astonish Beauregard by advancing. Nelson’s division was placed on the left, nearest the river, Crittenden’s next, McCook’s beyond, and Lewis Wallace on the extreme right,—all fresh troops,—with Grant’s other divisions, which had made such a stubborn resistance, in reserve.
In General Nelson’s division, you see nearest the river Colonel Ammen’s brigade, consisting of the Thirty-sixth Indiana, Sixth and Twenty-fourth Ohio; next, Colonel Bruer’s brigade, First, Second, and Twentieth Kentucky; next, Colonel Hazen’s brigade, Ninth Indiana, Sixth Kentucky, and Forty-first Ohio. Colonel Ammen’s brigade arrived in season to take part in the contest at the ravine on Sunday evening.
General Crittenden’s division had two brigades: General Boyle’s and Colonel W. L. Smith’s. General Boyle had the Nineteenth and Fifty-ninth Ohio, and Ninth and Thirteenth Kentucky. Colonel Smith’s was composed of the Thirteenth Ohio, and Eleventh and Twenty-sixth Kentucky, with Mendenhall’s battery, belonging to the United States Regular Army, and Bartlett’s Ohio battery.
General McCook’s division had three brigades. The first was commanded by General Rousseau, consisting of the First Ohio, Sixth Indiana, Third Kentucky, and battalions of the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Nineteenth Regular Infantry. The second brigade was commanded by Brigadier-General Gibson, and consisted of the Thirty-second and Thirty-ninth Indiana, and Forty-ninth Ohio. The third brigade was commanded by Colonel Kirk, and consisted of the Thirty-fourth Illinois, Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth Indiana, and Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania.
General Lewis Wallace’s division, which had been reorganized after the battle of Fort Donelson, now consisted of three brigades. The first was commanded by Colonel Morgan L. Smith, and consisted of the Eighth Missouri, Eleventh and Twenty-fourth Indiana, and Thurber’s Missouri battery. The second brigade was commanded by Colonel Thayer, and contained the same regiments that checked the Rebels at the brook west of Fort Donelson,—the First Nebraska, Twenty-third and Sixty-eighth Ohio, with Thompson’s Indiana battery. The third brigade was commanded by Colonel Whittlesey, and was composed of the Twentieth, Fifty-sixth, Seventy-sixth, and Seventy-eighth Ohio.
Two brigades of General Wood’s division arrivedduring the day, but not in season to take part in the battle.
Beauregard’s brigades were scattered during the night. They had retired in confusion before the terrible fire at the ravine from the gunboats. Officers were hunting for their troops, and soldiers were searching for their regiments, through the night. The work of reorganizing was going on when the pickets at daylight were driven in by the advance of the Union line.
Beauregard, Bragg, Hardee, and Polk all slept near the church. There was no regularity of divisions, brigades, or regiments. Ruggles was west of the church with two of his brigades. Trabue’s brigade of Breckenridge’s reserves was there. Breckenridge, with his other brigades, or what was left of them, was east of the church, also the shattered fragments of Withers’s division. Gladden’s brigade had crumbled to pieces, and Colonel Deas, commanding it, was obliged to pick up stragglers of all regiments. Russell and Stewart were near Prentiss’s camp. Cheatham was in the vicinity, but his regiments were dwindled to companies, and scattered over all the ground.
Beauregard had established a strong rear-guard, and had issued orders to shoot all stragglers. The order was rigidly enforced, and the runaways were brought back and placed in line. Althoughexhausted, disorganized, and checked, the Rebels had not lost heart. They were confident of victory, and at once rallied when they found the Union army was advancing.
Look once more at the position of the divisions. Nelson is on the ground over which Stuart and Hurlburt retreated. Crittenden is where Prentiss was captured, McCook where McClernand made his desperate stand, and Lewis Wallace where Sherman’s line gave way.
The gunboats, by their constant fire during the night, had compelled the Rebels to fall back in front of Nelson. It was a little after five o’clock when Nelson threw forward his skirmishers, and advanced his line. He came upon the Rebels half-way out to Lick Creek, near the peach-orchard. The fight commenced furiously. Beauregard was marching brigades from his left, and placing them in position for a concentrated attack to gain the Landing. General Crittenden had not advanced, and Nelson was assailed by a superior force. He held his ground an hour, but he had no battery. He had been compelled to leave it at Savannah. He sent an aid to General Buell requesting artillery. Mendenhall was sent. He arrived just in time to save the brigade from an overwhelming onset. The Rebels were advancing when he unlimbered his guns, but his quick discharges of grape at short range threw them into confusion.
It astonished General Beauregard. He had not expected it. He was to attack and annihilate Grant, not be attacked and driven.[20]He ordered up fresh troops from his reserves, and the contest raged with increased fury.
Nelson, seeing the effect of Mendenhall’s fire, threw Hazen’s brigade forward. It came upon the battery which had been cutting them to pieces. With a cheer they sprang upon the guns, seized them, commenced turning them upon the fleeing enemy. The Rebel line rallied and came back, followed by fresh troops. There was a short, severe struggle, and Hazen was forced to leave the pieces and fall back. Then the thunders rolled again. The woods were sheets of flame.[21]The Rebels brought up more of their reserves, and forced Nelson to yield his position. He fell back a short distance, and again came into position. He was a stubborn man,—a Kentuckian, a sailor, who had been round the world. His discipline was severe. His men had been well drilled, and were as stubborn as their leader.
“Send me another battery, quick!” was his request, made to General Buell.
Tirrell’s battery, which had just landed from a steamer, went up the hill, through the woods, over stumps and trees, the horses leaping as ifthey had caught the enthusiasm of the commander of the battery. Captain Tirrell had a quick eye.
“Into position there. Lively, men! Caissons to the rear!” were his words of command. The gunners sprang from the carriages to the ground. The caissons wheeled, bringing the heads of the horses towards the Landing, trotted off eight or ten rods and took position sheltered by a ridge of land. Captain Tirrell rode from gun to gun.
“Fire with shell, two-second fuses,” he said to the lieutenants commanding his two ten-pounder Parrott guns.
“Grape and canister,” he said to the officers commanding the four brass twelve-pounders. Its fire was terrific. Wherever his guns were turned there was silence along the Rebel lines. Their musketry ceased. Their columns staggered back. All the while Mendenhall was pounding them. The Nineteenth Ohio, from Crittenden’s division, came down upon the run, joined the brigade, and the contest went on again. The Rebels, instead of advancing, began to lose the ground they had already won.
Crittenden and McCook advanced a little later. They came upon the enemy, which had quiet possession of McClernand’s and Sherman’s camps. Beauregard’s head-quarters were there. The Rebels, finding themselves assailed, made a desperateeffort to drive back the advancing columns. Rousseau advanced across the open field, over the ground so hotly contested by McClernand the day before. This movement made a gap between McCook and Crittenden. Beauregard saw it, threw Cheatham and Withers into the open space. They swung round square against Rousseau’s left, pouring in a volley which staggered the advancing regiments. The Thirty-second Indiana regiment, Colonel Willich commanding, was on the extreme right of McCook’s division. They had been in battle before, and were ordered across to meet the enemy. You see them fly through the woods in rear of Rousseau’s brigade. They are upon the run. They halt, dress their ranks as if upon parade, and charge upon the Rebels. Colonel Stambough’s Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania follows. Then all of Kirk’s brigade. It is a change of position and a change of front, admirably executed, just at the right time, for Rousseau is out of ammunition, and is obliged to fall back. McCook’s third brigade, General Gibson, comes up. Rousseau is ready again, and at eleven o’clock you see every available man of that division contending for the ground around the church. Meanwhile Wallace is moving over the ground on the extreme right, where Sherman fought so bravely. Sherman, Hurlburt, and the shattered regiments of W. H. L. Wallace’s division,now commanded by McArthur, follow in reserve. Driven back by Nelson, the Rebel forces concentrate once more around the church for a final struggle. Wallace watches his opportunities. He gains a ridge. His men drop upon the ground, deliver volley after volley, rise, rush nearer to the enemy, drop once more, while the grape and canister sweep over them. Thus they come to close quarters, and then regiment after regiment rises, and delivers its fire. It is like the broadsides of a man-of-war.
The time had come for a general advance. Nelson, Crittenden, McCook, Wallace, almost simultaneously charged upon the enemy. It was too powerful to be resisted. The Rebels gave way, retreated from the camps which they had occupied a single night, fled past the church, across the brook, up through the old cotton-field on the south side, to the shelter of the forest on the top of the ridge beyond. The battle was lost to them. Exultant cheers rang through the forest for the victory won.
If I were to go through all the details, as I might, and write how Crittenden’s brigades pressed on, and captured Rebel batteries; how the Rebels tried to overwhelm him; how the tide of battle surged from hill to hill; how the Rebels tried to cut McCook to pieces; how Wallace’s division flanked the enemy at Owl Creek; howRousseau’s brigade fought in front of McClernand’s camp; how the Fifth Kentucky charged upon a battery, and captured two guns which were cutting them up with grape and canister, and four more which were disabled and could not be dragged off by the enemy; how Colonel Willich, commanding the Thirty-second Indiana, finding some of his men were getting excited, stopped firing, and drilled them, ordering, presenting, and supporting arms, with the balls whistling through his ranks; how the men became cool and steady, and went in upon a charge at last with a wild hurrah, and a plunge of the bayonet that forced the Rebels to give up McClernand’s camp; how Colonel Ammen coolly husked ears of corn for his horse, while watching the fight, with the shells falling all around him; how Colonel Kirk seized a flag and bore it in advance of his brigade; how Color-Sergeant William Ferguson of the Thirteenth Missouri was shot down, how Sergeant Beem of Company C seized the flag before it touched the ground, and advanced it still farther; how Beauregard was riding madly along the lines by the church, trying to rally his men, when Thurber’s battery opened, and broke them up again; how, at noon, he saw it was no use; how he drew off his men, burned his own camp, and went back to Corinth, defeated, his troops disheartened, leaving his killed andhundreds of his wounded on the field; how the Union army recovered all the cannon lost on Sunday;—if I were to write it all out, I should have no room to tell you what Commodore Foote was doing all this time on the Mississippi.
It was a terrible fight. The loss on each side was nearly equal,—about thirteen thousand killed, wounded, and missing, or twenty-six thousand in all.
I had a friend killed in the fight on Sunday,—Captain Carson, commanding General Grant’s scouts. He was tall and slim, and had sparkling black eyes. He had travelled all over Missouri, Kentucky, and Tennessee, had often been in the Rebel camps. He was brave, almost fearless, and very adroit. He said to a friend, when the battle began in the morning, that he should not live through the day. But he was very active, riding recklessly through showers of bullets. It was just at sunset when he rode up to General Grant with a despatch from General Buell. He dismounted, and sat down upon a log to rest, but the next moment his head was carried away by a cannon-ball. He performed his duties faithfully, and gave his life willingly to his country.
You have seen how the army was surprised, how desperately it fought, how the battle was almost lost, how the gunboats beat back the exultant Rebels, how the victory was won. Beauregardwas completely defeated; but he telegraphed to Jefferson Davis that he had won a great victory. This is what he telegraphed—
“Corinth, April 8th, 1862.“To the Secretary of War, Richmond:—“We have gained a great and glorious victory. Eight to ten thousand prisoners and thirty-six pieces of cannon. Buell reinforced Grant, and we retired to our intrenchments at Corinth, which we can hold. Loss heavy on both sides.“Beauregard.”
“Corinth, April 8th, 1862.
“To the Secretary of War, Richmond:—“We have gained a great and glorious victory. Eight to ten thousand prisoners and thirty-six pieces of cannon. Buell reinforced Grant, and we retired to our intrenchments at Corinth, which we can hold. Loss heavy on both sides.
“Beauregard.”
You see that, having forsworn himself to his country, he did not hesitate to send a false despatch, to mislead the Southern people and cover up his mortifying defeat.
The Rebel newspapers believed Beauregard’s report. One began its account thus:—
“Glory! glory! glory! victory! victory! I write from Yankee papers. Of all the victories that have ever been on record, ours is the most complete. Bull Run was nothing in comparison to our victory at Shiloh. General Buell is killed, General Grant wounded and taken prisoner. Soon we will prove too much for them, and they will be compelled to let us alone. Our brave boys have driven them to the river, and compelled them to flee to their gunboats. The day is ours.”[22]
“Glory! glory! glory! victory! victory! I write from Yankee papers. Of all the victories that have ever been on record, ours is the most complete. Bull Run was nothing in comparison to our victory at Shiloh. General Buell is killed, General Grant wounded and taken prisoner. Soon we will prove too much for them, and they will be compelled to let us alone. Our brave boys have driven them to the river, and compelled them to flee to their gunboats. The day is ours.”[22]
The people of the South believed all this; but when the truth was known their hopes went down lower than ever, for they saw it was a disastrous defeat.
On the Sabbath after the battle, the chaplains of the regiments had religious exercises. How different the scene! Instead of the cannonade, there were prayers to God. Instead of the musketry, there were songs of praise. There were tears shed for those who had fallen, but there were devout thanksgivings that they had given their lives so freely for their country and for the victory they had achieved by their sacrifice.
One of the chaplains, in conducting the service, read a hymn, commencing:
“Look down, O Lord, O Lord forgive;Let a repenting rebel live.”
“Look down, O Lord, O Lord forgive;Let a repenting rebel live.”
But he was suddenly interrupted by a patriotic soldier, who cried, “No sir, not unless they lay down their arms, every one of them.”
He thought the chaplain had reference to the Rebels who had been defeated.
After the battle, a great many men and women visited the ground, searching for the bodies of friends who had fallen. Lieutenant Pfieff, an officer of an Illinois regiment, was killed, and his wife came to obtain his body. No one knew where he was buried. The poor woman wandered through the forest, examining all thegraves. Suddenly a dog, poor and emaciated, bounded towards her, his eyes sparkling with pleasure, and barking his joy to see his mistress. When her husband went to the army, the dog followed him, and was with him through the battle, watched over his dead body through the terrible contest, and after he was buried, remained day and night a mourner! He led his mistress to the spot. The body was disinterred. The two sorrowful ones, the devoted wife and the faithful brute, watched beside the precious dust till it was laid in its final resting-place beneath the prairie-flowers.
TheRebels, at the beginning of the war fortified Columbus, in Kentucky, which is twenty miles below Cairo on the Mississippi River. There the bluffs are very high, and are washed at their base by the mighty stream. Cannon placed on the summit have long range. A great deal of labor was expended to make it an impregnable place. There were batteries close down to the water under the hill, with heavy guns. A gallery was cut along the side of the bluff, a winding, zigzag passage, which, with many crooks and turns, led to the top of the hill. They had numerous guns in position on the top, to send shot and shell down upon Commodore Foote, should he attempt to descend the river. They built a long line of earthworks to protect the rear, intrenchments and stockades,—which are strong posts set in the ground, making a close fence, with holes here and there through which the riflemen and sharpshooters could fire.
They cut down the trees and madeabatis.There were several lines of defence. They stretched a great iron chain across the river, supporting it by barges which were anchored in the stream. They gave out word that the river was effectually closed against commerce till the independence of the Confederacy was recognized.
A Rebel Torpedo.A Rebel Torpedo.
When the war commenced, there was a man named Maury, a lieutenant in the United States service, and who was connected with the National Observatory in Washington. He was thought to be a scientific, practical man. He had been educated by the government, had received great pay, and was in a high position; but he forgot all that, and joined the Rebels. He imitated General Floyd, and stole public property, carrying off from the National Observatory valuable scientific papers which did not belong to him. He was employed by the Rebel government to construct torpedoes and infernal machines for blowing up Commodore Foote’s gunboats. He had several thousand made,—some for the land, which were planted around Columbus in rear of the town, and which were connected with a galvanic battery by a telegraph wire, to be exploded at the right moment, by which he hoped to destroy thousands of the Union troops. He sunk several hundred in the river opposite Columbus. They were oblong cylinders of wrought iron, four or five feet in length; inside were two or three hundredpounds of powder. Two small anchors held the cylinder in its proper place. It was air tight, and therefore floated in the water. At the upper end there was a projecting iron rod, which was connected with a percussion gun-lock. If anything struck the rod with much force, it would trip the lock, and explode the powder. At least, Mr. Maury thought so. The above engraving will show the construction of the torpedoes, and how they were placed in the water. The letter A represents the iron rod reaching up almost to the surface of the water. At B it is connected with the lock, which is inside the cylinder, and not represented. C represents the powder. The arrows show the direction of the current.
One day he tried an experiment. He sunk a torpedo, and let loose a flat-boat, which came down with the current and struck the iron rod. The powder exploded and sent the flat high into the air. Thousands of Rebel soldiers stood on the bluffs and saw it. They hurrahed and swung their hats. Mr. Maury was so well pleased that the river was planted with them, above, in front, and below the town. He thought that Commodore Foote and all his gunboats would be blown out of the water if they attempted to descend the stream.
But the workmanship was rude. The parts were not put together with much skill. Mr. Maury showed that his science was not practical. He forgot that the river was constantly rising and falling, that sometimes the water would be so high the gunboats could glide over the iron rods with several feet between, he forgot that the powder would gather moisture and the locks become rusty.
It was discovered, after a while, that the torpedoes leaked, that the powder became damp, and changed to an inky mass, and that the hundreds of thousands of dollars which Mr. Maury had spent was all wasted. Then they who had supposed him to be a scientific man said he was a humbug.
The taking of Fort Donelson compelled theRebels to evacuate Columbus,—the Gibraltar of the Mississippi, as they called it,—and all the work which had been done was of no benefit. Nashville was evacuated on the 27th of February. On the 4th of March Commodore Foote, having seen signs that the Rebels were leaving Columbus, went down the river, with six gunboats, accompanied by several transports, with troops, under General Sherman, to see about it. The Cincinnati, having been repaired, was the flag-ship. Commodore Foote requested me to accompany him, if I desired to.
“Perhaps we shall have hot work,” he said, as I stepped on board in the evening of the 3d.
“We shall move at four o’clock,” said Captain Stemble, commanding the ship, “and shall be at Columbus at daybreak.”
It was a new and strange experience, that first night on a gunboat, with some probability that at daybreak I might be under a hot fire from a hundred Rebel guns. By the dim light of the lamp I could see the great gun within six feet of me, and shining cutlasses and gleaming muskets. Looking out of the ward-room, I could see the men in their hammocks asleep, like orioles in their hanging nests. The sentinels paced the deck above, and all was silent but the sound of the great wheel of the steamer turning lazily in the stream, and the gurgling of the water around the bow.
“We are approaching Columbus,” said an officer. It was still some time to sunrise, but the men were all astir. Their hammocks were packed away. They were clearing the decks for action, running out the guns, bringing up shot and shell, tugging and pulling at the ropes. Going on deck, I could see in the dim light the outline of the bluff at Columbus. Far up stream were dark clouds of smoke from the other steamers.
Commodore Foote was on the upper deck, walking with crutches, still lame from the wound received at Donelson.
“I always feel an exhilaration of spirits before going into a fight. I don’t like to see men killed; but when I have a duty to perform for my country, like this, all of my energies are engaged,” said the Commodore.
Right opposite, on the Missouri shore, was the Belmont battle-ground, where General Grant fought his first battle, and where the gunboats saved the army.
There was a house riddled with cannon-shot; there was a hole in the roof as big as a bushel-basket, where the shell went in, and in the gable an opening large enough for the passage of a cart and oxen, where it came out. It exploded, and tore the end of the building to pieces.
One by one the boats came down. The morning brightened. We could see men on the bluff,and a flag flying. Were the Rebels there? We could not make out the flag. We dropped a little nearer. More men came in sight.
“Four companies of cavalry were sent out from Paducah on a reconnoissance day before yesterday. Perhaps the Rebels have all gone, and they are in possession of the place,” said General Sherman.
“I will make a reconnoissance with a party of soldiers,” he added. He jumped on board his tug, and went off to get his soldiers.
“Captain Phelps, you will please to take my tug and drop down also,” said Commodore Foote. “If you are willing to run the risk, you are at liberty to accompany Captain Phelps,” were his words to me. What is a thing worth that costs nothing?
We drop down the stream slowly and cautiously.
“We are in easy range. If the Rebels are there, they could trouble us,” says Captain Phelps.
We drop nearer. The flag is still waving. The man holding it swings his hat.
They are not Rebels, but Union cavalry! Away we dash. The other tug, with General Sherman, is close behind.
“A little more steam! Lay her in quick!” says Captain Phelps.
He is not to be beaten. We jump ashore, scramble up the bank ahead of all the soldiers,reach the upper works, and fling out the Stars and Stripes to the bright morning sunshine on the abandoned works of the Rebel Gibraltar!
The crews of the boats crowd the upper decks, and send up their joyous shouts. The soldiers farther up stream give their wild hurrahs. Around us are smoking ruins,—burned barracks and storehouses, barrels of flour and bacon simmering in the fire. There are piles of shot and shell. The great chain has broken by its own weight. At the landing are hundreds of Mr. Maury’s torpedoes,—old iron now. We wander over the town, along the fortifications, view the strong defences, and wonder that the Rebels gave it up,—defended as it was by one hundred and twenty guns,—without a struggle, but the fall of Fort Donelson compelled them to evacuate the place. They carried off about half of the guns, and tumbled many of those they left behind down the embankment into the river. The force which had fled numbered about sixteen thousand. Five thousand went down the river on steamboats, and the others were sent to Corinth on the cars.
This abandonment of Columbus freed Kentucky of Rebel troops. It had been invaded about six months, and Jeff Davis hoped to secure it as one of the Confederate States, but he was disappointed in his expectations. The majority of the people in that noble State could not be induced to go out of the Union.
Thereare many islands in the Mississippi, so many that the river pilots have numbered them from Cairo to New Orleans. The first is just below Cairo. No. 10 is about sixty miles below, where the river makes a sharp curve, sweeping round a tongue of land towards the west and northwest, then turning again at New Madrid, making a great bend towards the southeast, as you will see by the map. The island is less than a mile long, and not more than a fourth of a mile wide. It is ten or fifteen feet above high-water mark. The line between Kentucky and Tennessee strikes the river here. The current runs swiftly past the island, and steamboats descending the stream are carried within a stone’s throw of the Tennessee shore. The bank on that side of the stream is also about fifteen or twenty feet above high water.
The Rebels, before commencing their works at Columbus, saw that Island No. 10 was a very strong position, and commenced fortificationsthere. When they evacuated Columbus, they retired to that place, and remounted the guns which they had brought away on the island and on the Tennessee shore. They thought it was a place which could not be taken. They held New Madrid, eight miles below, on the Missouri side, which was defended by two forts. They held the island and the Tennessee shore. East of their position, on the Tennessee shore, was Reelfoot Lake, a large body of water surrounded by hundreds of acres of impassable swamp, which extended across to the lower bend, preventing an approach by the Union troops from the interior of the State upon their flank. The garrison at the island, and in the batteries along the shore, had to depend upon steamboats for their supplies.
The distance across the lower promontory from the island to Tiptonville, along the border of Reelfoot Lake, is about five miles, but the distance from the island by the river to Tiptonville is over twenty miles.
On the 22d of February, General Pope, with several thousand men, left the little town of Commerce, which is above Cairo, on the Mississippi, for New Madrid, which is forty miles distant. It was a slow, toilsome march. The mud was very deep, and he could move scarcely five miles a day, but he reached New Madrid on the3d of March, the day on which we raised the flag on the heights at Columbus.