to move across the field, but the storm of musketry and grape was too
much for him, and he fell back in good order. Again he started on the
double-quick and gained the woods. The Louisiana battery was turned;
Marsh’s position left it subject to fire in flank and in front, and it
then fled. The other rebel batteries at once followed, and Wallace’s
division, in an instant, now that a master move had swept the board,
pushed forward. Before them were broad fallow fields, then a woody
little ravine, succeeded by cornfields and woods.
The left brigade was sent forward. It crossed the fallow fields, under
fire, gained the ravine, and was rushing across the cornfields, when the
same Louisiana steel rifled guns opened on them. Dashing forward they
reached a little ground swell, behind which they dropped like dead men,
while skirmishers were sent forward to silence the troublesome battery.
The skirmishers crept forward till they gained a little knoll, not more
than seventy-five yards from the battery. Of course the guns opened on
them. They replied to some purpose. In a few minutes the battery was
driven off, the artillerists killed, the horses shot down, and badly
crippled every way. But the affair cost the Union cause a brave
man—Lieutenant-Colonel Garber, who could not control his enthusiasm at
the conduct of the skirmishers, and in his excitement incautiously
exposed himself. All this time rebel regiments were pouring on to attack
the audacious brigade that was supporting the skirmishers, but fresh
regiments from Wallace’s division came up in time to defeat their
purpose.
The battery was silenced. “Forward” was the division order. Rushing
across the cornfields under a heavy fire, they now met the rebels face
to face in the woods. The contest was quick and decisive. Close, sharp,
continuous musketry drove the rebels back.
Here unfortunately Sherman’s right gave way. Wallace’s flank was
exposed. He instantly formed Colonel Wood’s Seventy-sixth Ohio in a new
line of battle, in right angles with the real one, with orders to
protect the flank. The Eleventh Indiana was likewise contesting a sharp
engagement with the enemy, who made a desperate attempt to flank it, and
for a time the contest waxed furious. But Sherman soon filled the place
of his broken regiments. Wallace’s division came forward, and again the
enemy gave way.
By two o’clock the division was in the woods again, and for
three-quarters of a mile it advanced under a murderous storm of shot.
Then another contest, and another with the batteries, always met with
skirmishers and sharpshooting—then by four o’clock, two hours later than
on the right, a general rebel retreat—a sharp pursuit—from which the
triumphant Union soldiers were recalled to encamp on the old ground of
Sherman’s division, in the very tents from which those regiments were
driven that hapless Sunday morning.
With great thanksgiving and shouts of triumph the Union army took
possession of the camps. They had repulsed the enemy in one of the most
hardly contested battles of the war, under many disadvantages, and with
a heroism that fills a glorious page in the history of nations. The
enemy was near, yet retreating—his columns broken and altogether
defeated. His cavalry still hovered within half a mile of the camps, but
it was allowed to depart, and the battle of Pittsburg Landing, written
by more than a hundred thousand bayonets, was at an end.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
The sight of that battle field was horrible. The first approaches,
occupying the further range of the enemy’s guns, bore fearful witness of
the wild devastation made by the ball and shell which had over-shot the
mark. Large trees were entirely splintered off within ten feet of the
ground; heavy branches lay in every direction, and pieces of exploded
missiles were scattered over the forest sward. The carcasses of horses
and the wrecks of wagons strewed all the woods and marked every step of
the way.
Half a mile further on, and the most terrible results of the struggle
were brought to view. Lifeless bodies lay thickly in the woods; the dead
and dying lay close together in the fields, some in heaps on their
backs, some with clenched hands half raised in air—others with their
guns held in a fixed grip, as if in the act of loading when the fatal
shaft struck them dead. Others still had crawled away from further
danger, and, sheltering themselves behind old logs, had sunk into an
eternal sleep. Here were the bodies of men who had fallen the day
before, mingled with those from whose wounds the blood was yet warmly
trickling.
Around the open space known as “The battalion drill ground,” the scene
was still more appalling. This spot had been desperately contested on
both sides; but the dead on the rebel side were four to one compared to
the Union losses. It was horrible to see in what wild attitudes they had
fallen. Here a poor creature appeared in a sitting posture, propped up
by logs, on which the green moss had been drenched with blood, and with
his hands rigidly locked over his knees, sat still as marble, with his
ashen face drooping on his breast. One poor wretch had crept away to the
woods, and ensconcing himself between two logs, spread his blanket above
him as a shield from the rain of the previous night. He was a wounded
rebel, and asked pitifully of those who searched among the dead if
nothing could be done for him.
In the track of the larger guns terrible havoc had been made, and scenes
of revolting mutilation presented themselves. The field of battle
extended over a distance of five miles in length, and three-quarters of
a mile in width. This space was fought over twice in regular battle
array, and many times in the charges and retreats of the different
divisions of the two armies. Every tree and sapling in that whole space
was pierced through and through with cannon-shot and musketballs, and it
is reported that there was scarcely a rod of ground on the five miles
which did not have a dead or wounded man upon it.
On Sunday, especially, several portions of the ground were fought over
three and four times, and the two lines swayed backward and forward like
advancing and retreating waves. In repeated instances, rebel and Union
soldiers, protected by the trees, were within thirty feet of each other.
Many of the camps, as they were lost and retaken, received showers of
balls. At the close of the fight, General McClernand’s tent contained
twenty-seven bullet-holes, and his Adjutant’s thirty-two. In the
Adjutant’s tent, when the Union forces recaptured it, the body of a
rebel was found in a sitting position. He had evidently stopped for a
moment’s rest, when a ball struck and killed him. A tree, not more than
eighteen inches in diameter, which was in front of General Lew.
Wallace’s division, bore the marks of more than ninety balls within ten
feet of the ground.
THE ARTILLERY AND REGIMENTS ENGAGED.
A record of the dead, wounded and missing in that fearful battle, bears
sure evidence of the almost superhuman bravery with which it was
contested.
The Illinois men, already famous at Donelson, fought like tigers to
sustain their well-earned reputation. Missouri, Ohio, Indiana,
Wisconsin, and some of the Iowa regiments, won imperishable laurels. The
First and Second Kentucky were gloriously brave in the fight. They, as
well as the Sixth, were under fire more than five hours, yet when the
enemy turned their faces toward Mississippi, they were ready and eager
to follow. The Ohio Fifty-fourth, Zouave regiment, were at their post in
the thickest of the fight. Also the Fifty-seventh, who remembered well
that Ohio expected her buckeye sons to do their duty.
Taylor’s and Waterhouse’s batteries were first in the fight. Two
regiments that should have supported the last broke and ran. Waterhouse
was wounded in the thigh by a minie ball. Taylor’s battery continued to
fight, supported splendidly by the Twenty-third Illinois, until he and
his support were outflanked on both sides.
Waterhouse, with his three guns, took up a second position, supported by
the second brigade of McClernand’s division, Colonel Marsh commanding.
During the forenoon they were compelled to retire through their own
encampment, with heavy loss, into the woods. There a second line of
battle was formed, when McClernand ordered an advance. A hundred rods
brought the solid columns within sight of the rebels, and then followed
one of the most fiercely contested and sanguinary engagements of that
desperate field. It resulted in the repulse of the rebels, who were
driven back through the Union encampments. Then the enemy was
reinforced, and Colonel Marsh, finding his ammunition nearly expended,
was compelled to retreat before the overwhelming forces of the enemy.
On Monday a fine Michigan battery, captured by the enemy the day before,
was retaken by the Sixteenth Wisconsin, at the point of the bayonet. The
fight, after taking this battery, was conducted by General Beauregard in
person. In his efforts to recover it he was wounded in the arm. He was
successful in taking it, but it was again wrested from him. This battery
was retaken and recaptured no less than six times.
Company A of the Chicago Light Artillery, so severely handled on the
first day, was only able to man three guns on Monday; but with these,
after a desperate contest, they succeeded in silencing and capturing a
rebel battery of six guns. They were, however, compelled to abandon it
from want of horses.
The report of General Lew. Wallace especially commended the Nebraska
First, the Twentieth, Fifty-eighth, Seventy-sixth and Seventy-eighth
Ohio, and the Twenty-third Indiana. The Indiana Twenty-fifth literally
covered itself with glory. The Indiana Sixth, Ninth, Eleventh,
Thirty-first, Thirty-second, Twenty-fourth, Forty-third and
Fifty-seventh all performed most honorable parts in the terrible drama.
Of the United States regulars, there was a fine representation. They
were used at those points where the utmost steadiness was demanded, and
fought with consummate skill and determination.
The losses of the Illinois regiments in McClernand’s division were very
heavy, in officers and men. On Sunday, company A, of the Forty-ninth
Illinois, lost from one volley twenty-nine men, including three
officers; and on Monday morning the company appeared on the ground
commanded by a second sergeant. General McClernand’s third brigade,
which was led by Colonel Raith until he was mortally wounded, changed
commanders three times during the battle. On Monday morning, one of
General Hurlbut’s regiments (the Third Iowa) was commanded by a first
lieutenant.
General Grant is an illustration of the fortune through which some men,
in the thickest showers of bullets, always escape. He has participated
in skirmishes and fourteen pitched battles, and is universally
pronounced, by those who have seen him on the field, daring even to
rashness; but he has never received a scratch. At four o’clock on Sunday
evening, he was sitting upon his horse, just in the rear of the Union
line of batteries, when Carson, the scout, who had reported to him a
moment before, had fallen back, and was holding his horse by the bridle,
about seven feet behind him. A six-pound shot, which flew very near
General Grant, carried away Carson’s head, passed just behind Lieutenant
Graves, volunteer aid to General Wilson, tearing away the cantle of his
saddle and cutting his clothing, but leaving him uninjured. It then took
off the legs of a soldier in one of General Nelson’s regiments, which
was just ascending the bluff.
About the same hour, further up to the right, General Sherman, who had
been standing for a moment, while Major Hammond, his chief of staff, was
holding his bridle, remounted. By the prancing of his horse, General
Sherman’s reins were thrown over his neck, and he was leaning forward in
the saddle, with his head lowered, while Major Hammond was bringing them
back over his head, when a rifle ball struck the line in Major Hammond’s
hand, severing it within two inches of his fingers, and passed through
the top and back of General Sherman’s hat. Had he been sitting upright
it would have struck his head. At another time a ball struck General
Sherman on the shoulder, but his metallic shoulder-strap warded it off.
With a third ball he was less fortunate, for it passed through his hand.
General Sherman had three horses shot under him, and ranks high among
the heroes of that nobly won battle.
General Hurlbut had a six-pound shot pass between his horse’s head and
his arm; a bullet hurtled through the animal’s mane, and one of his
horses was killed under him.
The statement has gone forth that General Prentiss was made prisoner at
the first early onslaught of the enemy, when his division was driven in
upon Sherman’s lines. But this is an error. Prentiss’ men fought well
even in retiring. They retired to reform, and pursued the conflict up to
late in the afternoon, under Prentiss’ personal lead. They maintained a
stand on McClernand’s left and Hurlbut’s right. In the thick underbrush
where they made their last stand, almost every shrub and bush was struck
by bullets; no spot on the entire field evidenced more desperate
fighting. The last time General Prentiss met General Hurlbut, he asked
him: “Can you hold your line?” General Hurlbut replied, “I think I can.”
Not long after he sent a messenger to General Prentiss, to inform him
that he was forced back, but the man was probably killed, as he never
returned or delivered the message. About the same time, McClernand was
forced back on his right, and Prentiss, without knowing that his
supports on each side were gone, held his line. The enemy, both on his
right and left, was half a mile in his rear before he discovered it, and
his capture was inevitable.
Of General Buell’s conduct in battle, one of his men wrote, “I wish you
could have seen the gallantry, the bravery, the dauntless daring, the
coolness of General Buell. He seemed to be omnipresent. If ever man was
qualified to command an army, it is he. He is a great, a _very_ great
General, and has proved himself so; not only in organizing and
disciplining an army, but in handling it. He had his horse shot under
him.”
LOSSES.
The official reports of losses are given in the following tabular
statement:
GRANT’S ARMY.
DIVISIONS. KILLED. WOUNDED. MISSING. TOTAL.
1—General McClernand, 251 1,351 236 1,848
2—General W. H. L. Wallace, 228 1,033 1,163 2,424
3—General Lew. Wallace, 43 257 5 305
4—General Hurlbut, 313 1,449 223 1,985
5—General Sherman, 318 1,275 441 2,034
6—General Prentiss, 196 562 1,802 2,760
————— ————— ————— —————
Total, 1,349 5,927 3,870 11,356
BUELL’S ARMY.
2—General McCook, 95 793 8 896
4—General Nelson, 90 591 58 739
5—General Crittenden, 80 410 27 517
————— ————— ————— —————
Total, 265 1,794 93 2,152
————— ————— ————— —————
Grand Total, 1,614 7,721 3,963 13,508
The official report of General Beauregard states the rebel loss to be
1,728 killed, 8,012 wounded, and 959 missing; which is far below the
estimated losses of the enemy given by the Federal officers, who buried
the dead on the field.
Bravely was that battle contested on both sides. We have described the
way in which the Federal Generals fought and won a victory. But the
South was gallantly represented—so gallantly, that a victory over such
men was worth a double conquest over a meaner foe.
Beauregard seemed omnipresent along his lines throughout that memorable
day, striving by expostulation, entreaties, command, exposure of his own
person, to stem the tide of defeat; but it was in vain. The steady flank
advances of the Federal wings—the solidity of their centre, rendered it
necessary to “retreat,” if he would not be cut off entirely. His baffled
and somewhat dispirited brigades fell back slowly upon the Corinth road,
which, in all the fortunes of the two days’ fight, had been carefully
guarded from any approach of the Unionists. The retreat was neither a
panic nor a rout. Some regiments threw away their arms, blankets, etc.,
from exhaustion; great numbers of killed and wounded crowded the army
wagons, and much camp equipage was necessarily left behind.
The pursuit was kept up with but little energy. The nature of the woods
rendered cavalry movements extremely difficult, and though three
thousand splendidly mounted fellows had waited two days for an order to
ride into the fray, it came too late for much service. The infantry
pushed onward only a mile or two, for being unacquainted with the
topography of the country, General Buell considered it dangerous to
pursue his advantages any farther.
In giving a record of this contest, one thing is assured—the Union
victory was won by the heroic fortitude of men, many of whom never
before had been under fire; and the field is written all over with the
records of soldiers whose unfaltering heroism gave the name of Pittsburg
Landing to the hardest fought and noblest won battle of the American
continent.
GENERAL SHERMAN’S RECONNOISSANCE TOWARD CORINTH.
APRIL 8, 1862.
The fatigue and suffering experienced by the victorious army at
Pittsburg were too severe for an immediate pursuit of Beauregard’s
forces on their retreat from the battle field on the 7th of April. On
the morning of the 8th, however, General W. T. Sherman was ordered by
General Grant to follow up the enemy, with a small force. With two
brigades of infantry, and Colonel Dickey’s Illinois cavalry, he advanced
on the Corinth road, to the forks, several miles beyond the battle
field. The abandoned camps of the enemy lined the road, in all of which
were found more or less of their wounded with hospital flags thrown out
for their protection. At that point, reconnoitering parties were sent
out on both roads, which reported the enemy’s cavalry in force in either
direction. A Federal brigade under General Wood, which had been
stationed in that vicinity, was ordered to advance on the left hand
road, while General Sherman led the third brigade of his division up the
right. About half a mile from the forks was a clear field, through which
the highway passed, and immediately beyond it a space of two hundred
yards of fallen timber; beyond that an extensive camp of the enemy’s
cavalry could be seen. After a reconnoissance, the two advanced
companies of the Ohio Seventy-seventh, Colonel Hildebrand, were ordered
to deploy as skirmishers, and the regiment itself to move forward into
line, with intervals of one hundred yards. In this order they advanced
cautiously until the skirmishers were engaged.
Taking it for granted that this disposition would clear the camp, Gen.
Sherman held Colonel Dickey’s Fourth Illinois cavalry ready to charge.
The enemy’s cavalry came down boldly, breaking through the line of
skirmishers, when the regiment of infantry wavered, threw away its guns
and fled. The ground was admirably adapted to a defence of infantry
against cavalry, it being miry and covered with fallen timber. As the
regiment of infantry broke, Colonel Dickey’s cavalry began to charge
with their carbines, and fell into disorder. General Sherman instantly
sent orders to the rear for the brigade to form in line of battle, which
was promptly executed. The broken infantry and cavalry rallied on this
line, and as the enemy’s cavalry came up to it, the Union cavalry in
turn charged and drove them from the field. General Sherman then
advanced the entire brigade upon the same ground, and sent Colonel
Dickey’s cavalry a mile further on the road. On the ground which had
been occupied by the Seventy-seventh Ohio, were fifteen dead and about
twenty-five wounded. Two hundred and eighty Confederate wounded and
fifty of the Federals were found in the camp from which the enemy were
driven.
General Halleck attributed the victory at Pittsburg greatly to the
bravery and skill of General Sherman, and recommended that he should be
promoted to a Major-Generalship, which rank was conferred upon him by
the President.
OCCUPATION OF HUNTSVILLE, ALA.
APRIL 10, 1862.
On the same day that General Buell left Nashville for Pittsburg, he
dispatched General Mitchell’s division on a hazardous expedition through
Tennessee, to Huntsville, Ala.
Leaving Murfreesborough, Tenn., on the 5th of April, they marched to
Shelbyville, twenty-six miles, in twelve hours, amid a cold, drizzling
rain. They experienced a warm welcome from the inhabitants of that
beautiful city. Here they were obliged to remain two days, awaiting the
arrival of their supply train; and on the 8th, after a march of
twenty-seven miles, they reached Fayetteville, Lincoln Co., a town where
the secession sentiment was almost universal. Fifteen miles beyond they
crossed the State line and entered Alabama, continuing their course due
south. A Northern journal says:
“It stirs the blood with enthusiasm to read the exploits of General
Mitchell, in Alabama—so full are they of dash, enterprise and daring.
When the General was on his way to Bridgeport, he met a ‘native,’ whom
he asked to show him a point where a certain stream could be forded. The
Alabamian declined to furnish the information. ‘Bind him and march him
to the head of the column,’ said the General. Then every man of three
thousand in the ranks was ordered to take a rail from the adjacent
fences, and these were thrown into the river, extemporizing a bridge on
which the troops crossed. At another place, they came upon a stream
three hundred feet wide, and twenty feet deep. ‘Never mind,’ said the
General, ‘I have a pontoon bridge;’ and he ordered his men to roll down
the bales from a load of abandoned cotton near by. Some of the officers
laughed at the idea of making a bridge of such materials, but he told
them he had calculated the buoyancy of cotton, and found it to be four
hundred and eighty-six pounds to a bale. The bridge was made, and the
calculation proved correct.
[Illustration: UNION HEROES BANKS. SICKLES. DIX. McDOWELL. SHIELDS.]
“On reaching a bridge near Sunrise, it was found to be on fire, with a
piece of rebel artillery stationed to command it. General Mitchell
entered the bridge and asked who would volunteer to save it. A sergeant
of the Thirty-third Ohio sprang after him. ‘You are my man!’ said the
General. In a moment the bridge was thronged with volunteers, and they
saved it. At another place the General himself was found in the mud with
his coat off, working at a bridge on which his command crossed a swamp.”
As the army advanced, an eager curiosity became manifest to know the
point of destination. On the way, the General met a man travelling on
foot. He asked him how far it was to Huntsville.
“Eleven miles.”
“Do they know we are coming?”
“No; they have not the least idea of it.”
Huntsville, then, was the desired haven. Ten miles from the place the
General called a halt, to wait for the artillery and infantry to come
up. No tents were pitched, but for miles away the impatient invaders
could be seen around their camp-fires. The General flung himself down by
an old log, overrun with moss, and on this novel bed snatched two hours’
rest. Just as the moon was going down, the bugle call was sounded. The
soldiers sprang to their feet, and in a few minutes they were ready to
move.
The Simonson battery led the way, supported by Kennett’s and Colonel
Turchin’s brigade. The army passed a magnificent plantation, with many
negroes, owned by the rebel ex-Secretary Walker. Four miles from
Huntsville, the shrill whistle of a locomotive was heard. In a few
moments the train hove in sight, and was stopped by the outbreak of
Simonson’s brass guns. The train was captured, together with one hundred
and fifty-nine prisoners.