The dusk of the short winter’s day had already come on when the last desperate charges of the Confederate hosts were repelled. As though by common consent, the firing ceased almost simultaneously on both sides, and a period of comparative calm succeeded the storm of battle.
Never was a cessation of strife more welcome than to the two armies. The Army of the Cumberland had been so riven and torn during the struggle as to bear scarcely any resemblance to the compact organization of the morning. Divisions had been swept away from the rest of their corps, brigades had been torn away from divisions, regiments from brigades, and even battalions and companies from regiments. It was in very truth an improvised battle-line,—the line that had clung to the Nashville Pike during the closing hours of the engagement. A vast number of individual soldiers,—not by any means all skulkers, but, in many cases, men who had become separated from their own commands and had done valiant service wherever opportunity offered, with or withoutorders,—were wandering about back of the Union lines, seeking the camp-fires of their comrades. To restore a semblance of order and alignment was the first task of officers,—great and small,—and it was hours before this could be accomplished in part. It was the intention of Rosecrans to forbid fires, for fear of drawing attacks from the enemy; but before any order could be issued, they were lighted all along the line, and the exhausted troops got an opportunity to boil coffee and toast bacon before sinking down to sleep.
On the Confederate side there was less confusion. The Army of the Tennessee,—though clearly fought out for the time being,—had preserved far more of the autonomy of its several commands, and as the camp-fires were kindled along its battle front, the impression was universal that the fight would be renewed on the morrow. Bragg himself was in a state of exultation, for though his cherished plan had not yet been carried out, he felt that success had merely been deferred.
There was a council of the principal Federal officers during the night at the commanding general’s headquarters. Rosecrans, it is said, had in mind a retirement of a few miles to Overall’s Creek, but this was given up when it was pointed out that the new position was scarcely as strong as the one now held, and offered few advantages. Then somebody suggested the question of retreat. There is a tradition to the effect that Thomas hadfallen into a doze during the talking, but that he woke up when this unpleasant word was uttered.
“Retreat!” he exclaimed,—so the story goes,—“This army can’t retreat!”
This assurance seemed to satisfy the timid ones, and the question was dropped forthwith.
New Year’s Day, 1863, dawned clear and cold. During the night every effort had been made to strengthen the Union position, and to good effect; for Bragg had a cloud of skirmishers out with the dawn, and all day they searched the line in every part, at times being aided by the artillery. But not a crevice could be found, and the Confederate maneuvers at no time developed into movements of importance. But Wheeler’s Cavalry found plenty to do, and its capture of a wagon-train caused the liveliest rumors of disaster among the garrison that had been left at Nashville.
Despite, however, the activity of the horsemen of the enemy, Rosecrans managed to get through the lines a considerable store of rations, ammunition, and other supplies. So the day ended with the situation much as it had been when the day began, except that the soldiers on both sides had had an opportunity to restore themselves after the intense fatigue of the first day’s fight, and that order had been evolved out of the chaos into which the Army of the Cumberland had been thrown.
One change in the situation,—at the timeregarded as of little account, but which was to have momentous results,—had been made. During the day Rosecrans gave some scrutiny to Breckinridge’s division of the Army of the Tennessee, which had retired to its original position on Bragg’s right. As this force was posted, it was too far away to be watched closely, and Rosecrans, as a precautionary measure, directed Crittenden to throw Van Cleve’s division, now under Gen. Samuel Beatty (for its own white-haired commander had been wounded), together with Grosse’s brigade, across the ford to a position in Breckenridge’s front. The movement, which had for its purpose little more than observation, was accomplished without interference on the afternoon of January 1, 1863.
For the greater part of the next day the two armies, merely rested on their arms. With food and rest, the feeling of confidence, which had been somewhat shaken in the Union Army, began to revive, and the soldiers exhibited a cheerful tone. The Confederate forces, however, showed a contrary spirit. There was deep chagrin in all ranks, because the work that had been so bravely begun was not resumed and carried to a triumphant end; while criticisms of the general commanding began to be exchanged with freedom among the officers highest in rank. There is no doubt that this gossip reached Bragg’s ears and that he was stung to the quick by it. It is possible, too, that it led him to order the movement that resulted in the final scene of the battle.
During his repeated examinations of the field, Bragg had noticed the Union detachment that had been thrown across the river in Breckinridge’s front, and he now determined to dislodge it. In his official reports he lets it be understood that he merely wanted to drive away a force that wasposted in an advantageous position for observation and that might, if re-enforced, be able to make a dangerous attack upon his army,—for it could enfilade his whole line. But, if dislodgement were all that was intended, it is hard to understand why Bragg should have organized such a heavy column for a slight task. It may well be suspected that the Confederate Commander saw an opportunity to crush the Union left and, in the confusion necessarily ensuing, to drive the whole Federal Army from the field in rout.
Bragg gave to Breckinridge 10,000 of his best fighting men, including 2,000 cavalry and ample supports of artillery. At the head of this formidable column, Breckenridge descended upon the Union troops in his immediate front, at 4 p. m., January 2. The blow fell with the swiftness and force of a hurricane. Both Van Cleve’s division and Grosse’s brigade had lost heavily in the previous fighting, and their ranks were too thin to offer effectual resistance. A few volleys of musketry and a few rounds of artillery were fired, and then they broke and fled to the ford, closely pursued by the yelling Confederate host.
By a singular chance, not a single Union general officer was near this part of the field at the time. They were, in fact, around the centre and right, against which Bragg, as a ruse, had opened a heavy artillery fire. The brigade nearest the ford was under the command of John F. Miller, ayoung Indiana colonel, who had not yet received his stars. It was apparent to him that Breckenridge’s charge, unless checked, would result disastrously to the army; and he broached the subject of a countercharge to an officer of like grade of another brigade. He was assured of support. Miller sent an orderly to find some general officer to authorize the movement, and drew up his men in readiness. He had barely 1,500 with which he might hope to check 10,000, flushed with victory. In a few moments the crisis was at hand, and Miller was still awaiting orders. His brigade opened ranks to let through the fugitives, and then Miller, placing himself at the head of his men, spurred his horse into the water. He was in mid-stream, when the orderly returned with the news that General Palmer, the only general officer to be found, had forbidden the movement.
“It is too late now,” replied Miller, and drawing his sword, he gave the order to charge.
The very audacity of this step was its success. It is probable that the Confederates believed Miller to be leading an overwhelming force, for they stopped, fired a few shots, and then began to retreat. With fixed bayonets, Miller’s men pursued, and now, with quick perception of the opportunity, other Union commands joined in the charge. Perhaps a half mile had been traversed when the Confederates showed signs of rallying. But as their lines were halted and rearranged,the missiles of death from half a hundred cannon,—drawn hastily together by Major Mendenhall, Crittenden’s chief of artillery, and posted on a hill which commanded the whole field,—suddenly fell among them. They fled again, leaving on the ground 2,000 dead and wounded,—the fruit of an action of less than an hour.
This ended the battle of Stone’s River. For another twenty-four hours the two armies confronted each other with no fight of importance. During the night of January 3, Bragg retreated unmolested. He reported having received information that Rosecrans was being reënforced, but in this again he may be suspected of a euphemism. As a matter of fact, the retreat had been advised at a council of his principal generals, two of whom,—Withers and Cheatham,—united in the blunt statement over their own signatures that he had only three reliable divisions left and that these were, to a certain extent, demoralized. Most of his officers also assured him, with equal frankness, that he ought to give up the command of the army,—advice that he did not heed; and Polk, for writing to this effect to the Confederate President, was placed under arrest; but he was afterward released.
The Battle of Stone’s River produced profound disappointment both in the North and in the South. Claimed as a victory by both sides, the first fruits fell to the Army of the Cumberland, which had not only held the field but had compelled the retirement of its adversary and the relinquishment by the latter of strategic positions and domination over considerable areas. But as the weeks passed without developments of other striking results, the Northern people felt that the victory had been little more than technical, and that the battle was another of the practically indecisive contests so frequent at that period.
On the other hand, the Southern people were mortified and chagrined at a defeat suffered when their cause was prospering in almost all other quarters. They were not more given to analyzing strategic and tactical features than their Northern enemies, but they were able to realize that their second army in size and importance had lost thousands of soldiers, and that it has been driven out of Middle Tennessee, and away from the vicinity of the State capital, the recovery of whichhad always been a cherished object of their hearts. The opposition to Bragg, both in and out of the Army of the Tennessee, became intensified from the time the retirement from Murfreesboro was ordered.
It was perhaps natural that the outcome was thus viewed in the two sections, for it is in the light of what it might have been,—rather than what it was,—that Stone’s River must be judged. Union victory upon that field did not, it is true, reveal results of transcendent importance, but Confederate victory,—at one time so near,—would have been followed by the weightiest and most far-reaching consequences. Had Bragg been able to drive his infantry across the Nashville pike on the last day of 1862, or had he been able to crush the Union left on the second of January, 1863, the capture or destruction,—whole or partial,—of his enemy would have been one of the least of these consequences. For the way to the Ohio would then have been open, and Cincinnati and other opulent Northern cities would have been at the mercy of Confederate arms. Vicksburg would not have been an historic name, for overwhelming forces could have been turned against Grant to crush him, or drive him from Mississippi. Tennessee,—second State in population below Mason and Dixon’s line, and first in such food as armies consume,—would have been held to furnish the vital recruits and supplies to theConfederacy. East Tennessee would have waited in vain for the relieving Northern forces. Kentucky and Missouri might have been wrested from Union control, and Arkansas freed from the presence of the invader. Finally, Europe’s recognition, with the manifold complexities for the North that must have ensued therefrom, could have been no longer logically denied to the Richmond government.
After Stone’s River, Bragg’s battered battalions retired 30 to 40 miles away,—to the line of Duck Diver,—and there maintained an attitude of defiance for 6 months. It took that period for Rosecrans to restore the ravages of battle in his army. Wheeler, Morgan, and Forrest,—the cavalry chieftans,—meanwhile, kept up a series of raids upon Rosecrans’s long line of communications,—raids that sorely tried that commander, pestered as he was by constant injunctions from Washington to move forward. But in June, 1863, having at length accumulated sufficient supplies, the Army of the Cumberland started the campaign that was to drive the Army of the Tennessee out of the State from which it took its name. Then came another halt; but in September the Union forces again advanced and the Confederates again retired.
At Chickamauga the Army of the Tennessee, reinforced by Longstreet and Buckner, turned, and, inflicting a bloody defeat upon the Army ofthe Cumberland, locked it up in the fastness of Chattanooga. But Bragg was unable to gather substantial fruits from his victory. At Missionary Ridge, in December, the Army of the Cumberland led in the movement that broke the battle-front of its historic adversary. Thenceforth the Army of the Tennessee,—fighting bravely at every turn,—was obliged by the weight of opposing numbers to retire further and further into the South. At Resaca, at Dalton, at Kenesaw Mountain, at Atlanta, and at a score of other places it showed the qualities of valor and endurance that had already won it deserved renown. But it never looked to the North again until the latter days of 1864, when Hood summoned it for its last great adventure,—that desperate leap past Sherman, which was to end in utter rout before the ramparts of Nashville.
The Army of the Cumberland lost in the Stone’s River campaign 1,730 killed, 7,802 wounded, 3,717 captured and missing; a total of 13,249.
The Army of the Tennessee lost 1,294 killed, 7,945 wounded, 1,027 captured or missing; a total of 10,266.
“In the second half of this year (1862) the Confederates failed to gain control of Maryland and Kentucky, but made head strongly and at the end of it were at the height of their power, with the North badly defeated at all points save one. The writer considers that the battle of Stone’s River, or Murfreesboro, on December 31st, was the military turning-point of the war, though the Confederates made various strokes at different times for political purposes, which, had they succeeded, might have attained their end, the chief of which was the campaign of Gettysburg. From a purely military point of view, however, nothing could save the Confederacy unless the results of Stone’s River were undone. The year 1863 opened with the Confederates fought out; they had made their effort but could not maintain it, and had failed to secure the centre of the strategical line which was vital for both sides.”—“The American Civil War,” Formby; London, John Murray, 1910.
“... That my opinion was founded upon a false estimate of the facts was the very least part of my fault. I did not perceive the gross impropriety of such an utterance from a cabinet minister, of a power united in blood and language, and bound to loyal neutrality; the case being furtherexaggerated by the fact that we were already, so to speak, under indictment before the world, for not—as was alleged—having strictly enforced the laws of neutrality in the matter of the cruisers. My offence was indeed only a mistake, but one of incredible grossness, and with such consequences of offence and alarm attached to it, that my failing to perceive them justly exposed me to very severe blame....”—Gladstonian fragment, “Life of Gladstone,” Morley; New York. The Macmillan Company, 1911.
“Further to mislead the enemy as to the point from which the attack was to be made, long lines of camp-fires were started on McCook’s right and commands given by staff-officers to imaginary regiments in tones loud enough to be heard by the enemy’s skirmishers, to induce the Confederates to think that our line extended much further to the right than it actually did. I have always doubted whether Bragg was misled or deceived by this subterfuge; and not unlikely he considered it a confession of weakness on our right and formed his own plans accordingly.”—“The Murfreesboro Campaign,” Otis; Boston. Papers of the Military Historical Society of Massachusetts, Vol. VII, 1908.
“At this juncture, Colonel John F. Miller, followed by a portion of Stanley’s brigade, charged with hisbrigade across the river. Disregarding an order from a general officer, not his immediate commander, to desist from so hazardous an adventure, he dashed over and fell furiously upon the foe, already in rapid retreat. The right of Miller’s line was supported by the Eighteenth Ohio, and portions of the Thirty-seventh Indiana and Seventy-eighth Pennsylvania, of Stanley’s Brigade. Moving on the opposite bank, his left, was Grose’s brigade, which had changed front and resisted the enemy, when Price and Grider gave ground, and in his rear were Hazen’s brigade and portions of Beatly’s division. Miller reached a battery in position and, charging with the Seventy-eighth Pennsylvania, Sixty-ninth and Seventy-fourth Ohio, and Nineteenth Illinois, the Twenty-first Ohio, striking opportunely on the left, captured four guns and the colors of the Twenty-sixth Tennessee Regiment....”—“History of the Army of the Cumberland,” Van Home; Cincinnati, Robert Clarke & Co., 1875.
“Miller sent his staff officers and orderlies, Lieutenant (afterward Brigadier-General) Henry Chiney, Lieutenant Ayers, and Major A. B. Bonnaffin (I repeat that I am writing now what I saw with my own eyes and heard with my own ears) to scour the field and ask permission to cross the stream to Van Cleve’s relief. Only one such officer could be found, General John M. Palmer (of Illinois) and from him came instead of the desired permission a positive prohibition—an order not to cross. The other two brigade commanders, belonging to the division, General Spear of Tennessee and Colonel T. R. Stanley, of the Eighteenth Ohio, were not present. GeneralNegley, the division commander, was not to be found....
“Miller found himself the ranking officer present with the division and realized that the decision fraught with so much importance lay with him. He was surrounded by a group of regimental commanders who alternately studied the field and his face.... He turned to the officers around him saying quietly:
“‘I will charge them.’
“‘And I’ll follow you,’ exclaimed the gallant Scott, wheeling and plunging his spurs into his steed to hasten back to his regiment (the Nineteenth Illinois). Colonel Stoughton of the Eleventh Michigan and other regimental commanders belonging to the Twenty-ninth brigade echoed Scott’s enthusiastic adherence and they, too, started for their troops.”—“God’s War,” Vance. London, New York. F. Tennyson Neely, 1899.
Transcriber’s Note:
Other than the corrections noted by hover information, printer’s spelling inconsistencies have been retained.