FORT DONELSONCHAPTER II.
With the fall of Fort Henry, we started toward Fort Donelson. The roads were muddy and the country hilly, making the marching hard work. About 3 o’clock p. m. of February 12, 1862, the distant booming of cannon told us all too plainly that we were near the enemy, and we were urged to greater speed. When within two miles of the fort a group of officers passed us, among them Gen. Grant, Gen. W. H. L. Wallace, Col. Oglesby and others. We were ordered to unsling knapsacks and leave them in company piles, with a guard over them, and then away we went over hills, valleys and ravines, through the woods and dense thickets. After having marched about a mile and a half we were halted, darkness having arrived. The night was very chilly and cold. Our boys had left their knapsacks two miles to the rear and were without blankets. Cold, hungry and disappointed,we shivered during that long, dreary night, and began to realize what an earnest, cruel thing a soldier’s life was. But it was our first experience, and we knew nothing about making ourselves comfortable. We learned better after a while and always carried our blankets with us, whether in battle or not. It is the best plan to always have a blanket with you. During the night it rained and turned very cold. We were forbidden to leave the lines, hence could not go back for our blankets. Will gathered up a pile of leaves and crept into them, but this did not keep him warm, and becoming cold he got up and paced back and forth to try to keep warm.
At the first streak of day—February 13, 1862—the enemy bade us good morning by sending us a shell that burst close to our lines, but doing little damage. The boys were mad and, gathering their muskets, said: “Let’s show them that we are not to be shot at without returningthe compliment,” but our officers were not ready to give us a chance. The battle was on, however, at other points of the line, and at last we were to have our hearts’ desires, namely, of having a shot at the enemy. We were moved shortly to the right and formed in line with our brigade.
About noon our General, W. H. L. Wallace, sent the 48th Illinois to attack what looked like a small redoubt to the left and front of us. This regiment gallantly attacked and fought desperately for some time, but losing their Colonel, they fell back, and then Gen. Wallace ordered the 45th Illinois to go to their aid. Now the time had come for us to show what stuff we were made of; now had come the time to do what we had promised our loved ones at home—to fight gallantly for the dear old flag. The orders of our Colonel were:
“Attention, battalion! Fix bayonets; shoulder arms; right shoulder shift, arms. Forward,march!” and all moved toward the enemy’s works over very rough ground. The redoubt of the enemy was on a hill, the ground sloping down toward us, while the trees and brush had been cut down to retard our progress. Presently the bullets began to sing about our heads:zip, ping, ping, and as we climbed the hill we were met by a murderous fire of musketry; the men were falling in bunches and the enemy poured into us grape and canister from their cannons.
When we got close enough the order to fire was given, and we boys sent our first lead into the enemy who showed themselves on top of the breastwork. The firing on both sides was brisk, but our Colonel would not let the men advance any farther. He knew we could not climb over the trench in front of the breastworks and scale the works. We fought an hour at great disadvantage, when the order was given to slowly retire. We had smelt powderfor the first time and had heard the whiz of the minie-ball, many of our brave comrades making the greatest sacrifice a man can make for his country. They had given their lives for the flag.
The gunboats on the river side of the fort had been doing valiant work, but had suffered badly at the hands of the enemy. The flagship St. Louis, had her steering wheel shattered, the pilot was killed, and Admiral Foote was wounded. The flagstaff was shot away and Captain J. V. Johnston, fastening the flag to his arm, walked the deck and gave the signals.
For the interest of my young readers, I must tell you about Captain Johnston’s little boy, Master James Vincent Johnston, aged about 8 years at the time. Captain Johnston’s wife and little boy were visiting him on the gunboat when the enemy opened fire from an unseen battery on the shore. The Captain had tied the boy by his mother’s side in one of the cabins,but he succeeded in untying himself and ran off among the gunners, where he seemed to take great delight during the excitement. Presently the Captain came along and met the little fellow carrying a pouch of powder. His father was surprised, and asked him where he got his load. The child answered:
“Why, Tommy had his head shotted off over there an’ I’m carrying the powder,” and he ran to the gun carrying his load.
The Captain let him have his way and little Jimmy was the hero of the battle, and the sailors called him “Admiral Jimmie.”
After the unsuccessful attack on the fort we again took our places in the line with our brigade. During the night the cold was intense and the men suffered much; some perished, icicles hanging from the caps of the sentinels. Our grub at this time was very scarce. We learned better later on in the war to alwayscarry a good supply of hard tack in our haversacks for just such emergencies.
General Grant examining a prisoner’s haversackat Fort Donelson
Towards evening some prisoners were captured and were taken to General Grant, who examined their haversacks and found them well filled with rations. The General reasoned from this fact, that the enemy were preparing to make their escape, which they did try to do the next day.
Soon after dark some of us were detailed to dig trenches and assist in erecting breastworks for the artillery. The Seventh Corporal was detailed to take charge of the squad, but it being so bitter cold he feigned sickness and turned the squad over to Will. He took his place and did the best he could, getting no sleep at all during the night. The next morning Jim asked Will how he liked his job. “Oh,” said Will, “the job was all right, but I’ll tell you, Jim, I think less of that Seventh Corporal than I did before, because of that little trick of his.”
During the night the Confederate Generals held a council of war and decided to mass their troops on our right the next morning, and cut their way out and escape.
Just as the first faint streaks of light came over the hills, so also came the compliments from the enemy, in the shape of iron shells from their cannons. McAllister’s battery returned the salutation in earnest and the battle was on again. Saturday, February 15, 1862, the enemy massed 10,000 troops opposite General McClernand’s division, on our right, and advanced upon our line, the pickets being fired upon before dawn.
The order, “Fall in,” was given and in a few minutes the woods rang with rattle of musketry and the roar of cannon. The enemy were determined to turn our right flank and escape. The battle raged fiercely for an hour and a half, and then came a lull. Colonel Forrest with his dashing cavalry made a charge on our lines atone point and captured one of our batteries. The fighting at other points all along the line that stretched for over three miles was heavy. About 10 o’clock our troops upon the extreme right ran out of ammunition, and Gen. Oglesby’s brigade had to fall back.
General Lew Wallace now came up with fresh troops, their cartridge boxes full, and those that had fallen back having now received plenty of cartridges re-formed their lines and again took part in the fight to drive the enemy back into their breastworks.
On the left of our lines a charge on the works had been ordered by Gen. Grant, and Gen. C. F. Smith, leading the boys in blue, placed his hat on his swordpoint and holding it aloft, cried out: “This way, boys; come on,” and the boys followed their courageous leader amidst a terrible hail of minie-balls and cannon shot. The 2nd, 7th, 12th and 14th Iowa and the 25th Indiana Regiments engaged in thischarge, planting their colors on the outer works, the enemy falling back to an inner breastwork. There was more or less fighting all day, but we finally drove the enemy back into their fort and had them cooped up and nearly surrounded.
During the battle in front of our lines, one of our company was wounded and went a few rods to the rear and sat down behind a tree. The Lieutenant Colonel seeing him there and thinking he was skulking went at him fiercely, saying: “Gill, get back into line.” Now, Gill was an odd genius, slow of speech and having a peculiar drawl in his manner of speaking, replied: “I guess not, Colonel; I’m wounded.”
“Where are you wounded?”
“In the breast, Colonel.”
The Colonel still having his doubts, asked where the ball hit him. Gill, raising his finger and covering the track of the bullet, said: “It went skewaggling this a way.”
Sure enough, a minie-ball had torn a holeclear across his breast, making an ugly looking flesh wound. Gill remained behind the tree until told to go and see the surgeon.
It is a fact that many new words were coined during the Civil War, some of them coming into general use and finding place in the dictionaries.
So far I have not seen Gill’s new word in the dictionaries, but surely it was a most apt description of how he was wounded.
Another member of our company was taking his coffee from the fire in the early morning when a stray, spent bullet from the enemy struck him in the head and knocked him down. He was taken back a short distance and the surgeon extracted a bullet flattened out and lying just under the scalp. He recovered, but the boys called him “Old bullet-proof skull,” or “Old hard head,” after that.