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<h1>MY DAYS AND NIGHTS</h1>

<h3>ON THE</h3>

<h2>BATTLE-FIELD.</h2>

<p class="smallgap">&nbsp;</p>

<h4>BY</h4>

<h3>CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,</h3>

<p class="smallgap">&nbsp;</p>

<p class="center">AUTHOR OF &#8220;STORY OF LIBERTY,&#8221; &#8220;BOYS OF &#8217;76,&#8221; &#8220;OUR NEW WAY<br/>
ROUND THE WORLD,&#8221; &#8220;FOLLOWING THE FLAG,&#8221;<br /> &#8220;WINNING HIS WAY,&#8221; ETC.</p>

<hr class="small" />

<p class="gap">&nbsp;</p>

<h3>BOSTON</h3>

<h4>DANA ESTES AND COMPANY</h4>

<p class="center">PUBLISHERS</p>

<hr class="large" />

<p class="center"><a name="Copyright_1887" id="Copyright_1887"></a><i>Copyright, 1887,</i></p>

<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Estes and Lauriat</span></p>

<hr class="large" />

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 353px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i003.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="353" height="500" alt="&#8220;The brigade goes down the road upon the run.&#8221;" title="" />
<span class="caption">&#8220;The brigade goes down the road upon the run.&#8221;</span>
</div>

<hr class="large" />
<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>

<div class="centered">
<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS">

<tr>
<td align="right"><span class="smcap">Introductory&nbsp;</span></td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="right"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">To the Youth of the United States.</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#INTRODUCTORY">1</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">Chap. I.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">How the Rebellion came about</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">3</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">II.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Gathering of a Great Army</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">22</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">III.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Battle of Bull Run</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">37</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">IV.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Capture of Fort Henry</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">68</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">V.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Capture of Fort Donelson</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">89</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">Thursday</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#thursday">98</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">Friday</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#friday">104</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">Saturday</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#saturday">111</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">VI.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Surrender</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">132</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">VII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Army at Pittsburg Landing</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">153</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">VIII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Battle of Pittsburg Landing</span></td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">From Daybreak till Ten o&#8217;clock</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">171</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">From Ten o&#8217;clock till Four</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#tenoclock">197</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">Sunday Evening</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#evening">205</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add1em">Monday</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">IX.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Evacuation of Columbus</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">229</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">X.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Operations at New Madrid</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">237</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">XI.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Operations at Island Number Ten</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">247</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">XII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">From Fort Pillow to Memphis</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">281</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">XIII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Naval Fight at Memphis</span></td>
<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">291</a></td></tr>

</table></div>

<hr class="large" />
<h2><a name="LIST_OF_DIAGRAMS" id="LIST_OF_DIAGRAMS"></a>LIST OF DIAGRAMS.</h2>

<div class="centered">
<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="1" summary="DIAGRAMS">

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="right">Page</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Bull Run Battle-Ground</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Fight at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#blackburn">62</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Country around Fort Henry and Fort Donelson</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#forts">69</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Fort Henry</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#forthenry">81</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Fort Donelson</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#fortdonelson">95</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Attack on McClernand</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#mcclernand">114</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Second Engagement</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#second">123</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Charge of Lauman&#8217;s Brigade</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#laumanbrigade">128</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Pittsburg Landing and Vicinity</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Disposition of Troops at the Beginning of the Battle</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Fight at the Ravine</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#ravine">208</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">A Rebel Torpedo</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#torpedo">230</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Island No. 10</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#islandten">239</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">A Mortar</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#mortar">248</a></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">The Naval Fight at Memphis</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#memphis">295</a></td></tr>

</table></div>

<hr class="large" />
<h2><a name="MILITARY_TERMS" id="MILITARY_TERMS"></a>MILITARY TERMS.</h2>

<p><i>Abatis.</i>&mdash;Trees cut down, their branches made sharp, and used to block
a road, or placed in front of fortifications.</p>

<p><i>Advance.</i>&mdash;Any portion of an army which is in front of the rest.</p>

<p><i>Aides-de-camp.</i>&mdash;Officers selected by general officers to assist them
in their military duties.</p>

<p><i>Ambulances.</i>&mdash;Carriages for the sick and wounded.</p>

<p><i>Battery.</i>&mdash;A battery consists of one or more pieces of artillery. A
full battery of field artillery consists of six cannon.</p>

<p><i>Battalion.</i>&mdash;A battalion consists of two or more companies, but less
than a regiment.</p>

<p><i>Bombardment.</i>&mdash;Throwing shot or shells into a fort or earthwork.</p>

<p><i>Canister.</i>&mdash;A tin cylinder filled with cast-iron shot. When the gun is
fired, the cylinder bursts and scatters the shot over a wide surface of
ground.</p>

<p><i>Caisson.</i>&mdash;An artillery carriage, containing ammunition for immediate
use.</p>

<p><i>Casemate.</i>&mdash;A covered chamber in fortifications, protected by earth
from shot and shells.</p>

<p><i>Columbiad.</i>&mdash;A cannon, invented by Colonel Bomford, of very large
calibre, used for throwing shot or shells. A ten-inch columbiad weighs
15,400 pounds, and is ten and a half feet long.</p>

<p><i>Column.</i>&mdash;A position in which troops may be placed. A column en route
is the order in which they march from one part of the country to
another. A column of attack is the order in which they go into battle.</p>

<p><i>Countersign.</i>&mdash;A particular word given out by the highest officer in
command, intrusted to guards, pickets, and sentinels, and to those who
may have occasion to pass them.</p>

<p><i>Embrasure.</i>&mdash;An opening cut in embankments for the muzzles of the
cannon.</p>

<p><i>Enfilade.</i>&mdash;To sweep the whole length of the inside of a fortification
or a line of troops.</p>

<p><i>Field-Works.</i>&mdash;An embankment of earth excavated from a ditch
surrounding a town or a fort.</p>

<p><i>Flank.</i>&mdash;The right or left side of a body of men, or place. When it is
said that the enemy by a flank march outflanked our right wing, it is
understood that he put himself on our right hand. When two armies stand
face to face the right flank of one is opposite the left flank of the
other.</p>

<p><i>File.</i>&mdash;Two soldiers,&mdash;a front rank and a rear rank man.</p>

<p><i>Fuse.</i>&mdash;A slow-burning composition in shells, set on fire by the flash
of the cannon. The length of the fuse is proportioned to the intended
range of the shells.</p>

<p><i>Grape.</i>&mdash;A large number of small balls tied up in a bag.</p>

<p><i>Howitzer.</i>&mdash;A cannon of large calibre and short range, commonly used
for throwing shells, grape, and canister.</p>

<p><i>Limber.</i>&mdash;The fore part of a field gun-carriage, to which the horses
are attached. It has two wheels, and carries ammunition the same as the
caisson.</p>

<p><i>Pontoon.</i>&mdash;A bridge of boats for crossing streams, which may be carried
in wagons.</p>

<p><i>Parabola.</i>&mdash;The curve described by a shell in the air.</p>

<p><i>Range.</i>&mdash;The distance to which shot, shells, or bullets may be fired.</p>

<p><i>Reveille.</i>&mdash;The first drum-beat in the morning.</p>

<p><i>Rifle-Pits.</i>&mdash;Excavations in the earth or other shelter for riflemen.</p>

<p><i>Spherical Case.</i>&mdash;A thin shell of cast-iron filled with bullets, with a
fuse, and a charge of powder sufficient to burst it. It contains about
ninety bullets.</p>

<p><i>Wings.</i>&mdash;The right and left divisions of a body of troops,
distinguished from the centre.</p>

<hr class="large" />
<h2><a name="MY_DAYS_AND_NIGHTS" id="MY_DAYS_AND_NIGHTS"></a>MY DAYS AND NIGHTS</h2>
<h3>ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.</h3>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
<h3><a name="INTRODUCTORY" id="INTRODUCTORY"></a>INTRODUCTORY.</h3>

<h4>TO THE YOUTH OF THE UNITED STATES.</h4>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">n</span>
my boyhood, my young friends, I loved to sit beside my grandfather
and listen to his stories of Bunker Hill and Saratoga,&mdash;how he and his
comrades stood upon those fields and fought for their country. I could
almost see the fight and hear the cannon&#8217;s roar, the rattle of the
musketry, and the shouts of victory. They won their independence, and
established the best government the world ever saw. But there are men in
this country who hate that government, who have plotted against it, and
who have brought about the present Great Rebellion to destroy it. I have
witnessed some of the battles which have been fought during this war,
although I have not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> been a soldier, as my grandfather was, and I shall
try, in this volume, to picture those scenes, and give correct
descriptions of the ground, the marching of the troops, the positions
they occupied, and other things, that you may understand how your
father, or your brothers, or your friends, fought for the dear old flag.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>

<h3>HOW THE REBELLION CAME ABOUT.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">M</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">any</span>
of you, my young readers, have seen the springs which form the
trickling rivulets upon the hillsides. How small they are. You can
almost drink them dry. But in the valley the silver threads become a
brook, which widens to a river rolling to the far-off ocean. So is it
with the ever-flowing stream of time. The things which were of small
account a hundred years ago are powerful forces to-day. Great events do
not usually result from one cause, but from many causes. To ascertain
how the rebellion came about, let us read history.</p>

<p>Nearly three hundred years ago, when Elizabeth was Queen of England, Sir
Walter Raleigh sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to explore the newly
discovered Continent of America. Sir Walter was a sailor, a soldier, and
one of the gentleman attendants of the Queen. He was so courteous and
gallant that he once threw his gold-laced scarlet cloak upon the ground
for a mat, that the Queen might not step her royal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> foot in the mud. At
that time America was an unexplored wilderness. The old navigators had
sailed along the coasts, but the smooth waters of the great lakes and
rivers had never been ruffled by the oars of European boatmen.</p>

<p>Sir Walter found a beautiful land, shaded by grand old forests; also
fertile fields, waving with corn and a broad-leaved plant with purple
flowers, which the Indians smoked in pipes of flint and vermilion stone
brought from the cliffs of the great Missouri River.</p>

<p>The sailors learned to smoke, and when Sir Walter returned to England
they puffed their pipes in the streets. The people were amazed, and
wondered if the sailors were on fire. So tobacco began to be used in
England. That was in 1584. We shall see that a little tobacco-smoke
whiffed nearly three hundred years ago has had an influence in bringing
about the rebellion.</p>

<p>Twenty years rolled by. London merchants dreamed of wealth in store for
them in Virginia. A company was formed to colonize the country. Many of
the merchants had spendthrift sons, who were also idle and given to bad
habits. These young fellows thought it degrading to work. In those
Western woods across the ocean, along the great rivers and upon the blue
mountains, they saw in imagination a wild, roving, reckless life. They
could hunt the wild beasts. They could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> live without the restraints of
society. They had heard wonderful stories of exhaustless mines of gold
and silver. There they could get rich, and that was the land for them.</p>

<p>A vessel with five hundred colonists was fitted out. There were only
sixteen men of the five hundred accustomed to work; the others called
themselves gentlemen and cavaliers. They settled at Jamestown. They
found no rich gold-mines, and wealth was not to be had on the fertile
plains without labor. Not knowing how to cultivate the soil, and hating
work, they had a hard time. They suffered for want of food. Many died
from starvation. Yet more of the same indolent class joined the
colony,&mdash;young men who had had rows with tutors at school, and who had
broken the heads of London watchmen in their midnight revels. A
historian of those times says that &#8220;they were fitter to breed a riot
than found a colony.&#8221;</p>

<p>The merchants, finding that a different class of men was needed to save
the colony from ruin, sent over poor laboring men, who were apprenticed
to their sons. Thus the idle cavaliers were kept from starvation.
Instead of working themselves, they directed the poor, hard-working men,
and pocketed the profits.</p>

<p>Smoking began to be fashionable in England. Lawyers in big wigs,
ministers in black gowns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> merchants seated in their counting-houses,
ladies in silks and satins, all took to this habit of the North American
Indians. Tobacco was in demand. Every ship from America was freighted
with it. The purple-flowered plant grew luxuriantly in the fields of
Virginia, and so through the labor of the poor men the indolent
cavaliers became rich.</p>

<p>As there were no women in the colony, some of the cavaliers sent over to
England and bought themselves wives, paying a hundred pounds of tobacco
for a wife. Others married Indian wives.</p>

<p>The jails of London were crowded with thieves and vagabonds. They had
committed crime and lost their freedom. To get rid of them, the
magistrates sent several ship-loads to Virginia, where they were sold to
the planters as servants and laborers. Thus it came to pass that there
were distinct classes in the colony,&mdash;men having rights and men without
rights,&mdash;men owning labor and men owing labor,&mdash;men with power and men
without power,&mdash;all of which had something to do in bringing about the
rebellion.</p>

<p>In August, 1620, a Dutch captain sailed up James River with twenty
negroes on board his ship, which he had stolen from Africa. The planters
purchased them, not as apprentices, but as slaves. The captain, having
made a profitable voyage, sailed for Africa to steal more. Thus the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>African slave-trade in America began, which became the main
fountain-head and grand cause of the rebellion.</p>

<p>The Virginia planters wanted large plantations. Some of them had
influence with King James, and obtained grants of immense estates,
containing thousands of acres. All the while the common people of
England were learning to smoke, snuff, and chew tobacco, and across the
English Channel the Dutch burghers, housewives, and farmers were
learning to puff their pipes. A pound of tobacco was worth three
shillings. The planters grew richer, purchased more land and more
slaves, while the apprenticed men, who had no money and no means of
obtaining any, of course could not become land-owners. Thus the three
classes of men&mdash;planters, poor white men, and slaves&mdash;became perpetually
distinct.</p>

<p>By the charter which the company of London merchants had received from
the King, owners of land only were allowed to have a voice in the
management of public affairs. They only could hold office. A poor man
could not have anything to do with enacting or administering the laws.
In 1705, a historian, then writing, says:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;There are men with great estates, who take care to supply the poor with
goods, and who are sure to keep them always in debt, and consequently
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>dependent. Out of this number are chosen the Council, Assembly, Justices
of the Peace, and other officers, who conspire together to wield
power.&#8220;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></div>

<p>Thus a few rich men managed all the affairs of the colony. They were
able to perpetuate their power, to hand these privileges to their sons,
through successive generations.</p>

<p>At the present time there are many men and women in Virginia who
consider themselves as belonging to the first families, because they are
descendants of those who settled the country. The great estates have
passed from the family name,&mdash;squandered by the dissolute and indolent
sons. They are poor, but very proud, and call themselves noble-born.
They look with contempt upon a man who works for a living. I saw a great
estate, which was once owned by one of these proud families, near the
Antietam battle-field, but spendthrift sons have squandered it, and
there is but little left. The land is worn out, but the owner of the
remaining acres,&mdash;poor, but priding himself upon his high birth, looking
with haughty contempt upon men who work,&mdash;in the summer of 1860, day
after day, was seen sitting upon his horse, with an umbrella over his
head to keep off the sun, <i>overseeing his two negro women, who were
hoeing corn</i>!</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>All of these springs which started in Virginia tinged, entered into, and
gave color to society throughout the South. There were great estates,
privileged classes, a few rich and many poor men. There were planters,
poor white men, and slaves.</p>

<p>In those old times pirates sailed the seas, plundering and destroying
ships. They swarmed around the West India Islands, and sold their spoils
to the people of Charleston, South Carolina. There, for several years,
the freebooters refitted their ships, and had a hearty welcome. But the
King&#8217;s ships of war broke up the business, and commerce again had
peaceful possession of the ocean.</p>

<p>These things gave direction to the stream, influencing the development
and growth of the colonies, which became States in the Union, and which
seceded in 1861.</p>

<hr class="medium" />

<p>While the Dutch captain was bargaining off his negroes to the planters
in 1620 at Jamestown, another vessel was sailing from Plymouth harbor,
in England, for a voyage across the Atlantic. Years before, in the
little town of Scrooby, a man with a long white beard, by the name of
Clifton, had preached what he called a pure religious doctrine. Those
who went to hear him, and who believed what he preached, soon came to be
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>called Puritans. Most of them were poor, hard-working English farmers
and villagers. There was much discussion, controversy, bigotry, and
bitterness in religion at that time, and these poor men were driven from
county to county, till finally they were obliged to flee to Holland to
escape persecution and save their lives. King James himself was one of
their most bitter persecutors. He declared that he would &#8220;harry every
one of them out of England.&#8221; After remaining in Holland several years,
they obtained permission of the King to sail for North America.</p>

<p>On a December morning the vessel, after five months&#8217; tossing upon the
ocean, lay at anchor in the harbor of Cape Cod. Those on board had no
charter of government. They were not men who had had midnight revels in
London, but men who had prayers in their families night and morning, and
who met for religious worship on the Sabbath. They respected law, loved
order, and knew that it would be necessary to have a form of government
in the colony. They assembled in the cabin of the ship, and, after
prayer, signed their names to an agreement to obey all the rules,
regulations, and laws which might be enacted by the majority. Then they
elected a governor, each man having a voice in the election. It was what
might be called the first town-meeting in America. Thus democratic
liberty and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>Christian worship, independent of forms established by kings
and bishops, had a beginning in this country.</p>

<p>The climate was cold, the seasons short, the soil sterile, and so the
settlers of Cape Cod were obliged to work hard to obtain a living. In
consequence, they and their descendants became active, industrious, and
energetic. Thus they laid the foundations for thrift and enterprise.
They did not look upon labor as degrading, but as ennobling. They passed
laws, that men able to work should not be idle. They were not rich
enough to own great estates, but each man had his own little farm. There
was, therefore, no landed aristocracy, such as was growing into power in
Virginia. They were not able to own labor to any great extent. There
were a few apprenticed men, and some negro slaves, but the social and
political influences were all different from those in the Southern
colonies. The time came when apprenticed men were released from service,
and the slaves set free.</p>

<p>These hard-working men did not wish to have their children grow up in
ignorance. In order, therefore, that every child might become an
intelligent citizen and member of society, they established common
schools and founded colleges. In 1640, just twenty years after the
landing at Plymouth, they had a printing-press at Cambridge.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>The cavaliers of Virginia, instead of establishing schools, sent their
sons to England to be educated, leaving the children of the poor men to
grow up in ignorance. They did not want them to obtain an education. In
1670, fifty years after the Dutch captain had bartered off his negroes
for tobacco,&mdash;fifty years from the election of the first governor by the
people in the cabin of the Mayflower,&mdash;the King appointed Commissioners
of Education, who addressed letters to the governors of the colonies
upon the subject. The Governor of Connecticut replied, that one fourth
of the entire income of the colony was laid out in maintaining public
schools. Governor Berkeley, of Virginia, who owned a great plantation
and many slaves, and who wanted to keep the government in the hands of
the few privileged families, answered,&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;I thank God there are no free schools nor printing in this colony, and
I hope we shall not have them these hundred years.&#8221;</div>

<p>All the Northern colonies established common schools, and liberally
supported them, that every child might obtain an education. The Southern
colonies, even when they became States, gave but little attention to
education, and consequently the children became more ignorant than their
fathers. Thus it has come to pass, that in the Northern States nearly
all can read and write, while in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>Southern States there are hundreds
of thousands who do not know the alphabet.</p>

<p>In 1850 the State of Maine had 518,000 inhabitants; of these 2,134 could
not read nor write, while the State of North Carolina, with a white
population of 553,000, <i>had eighty thousand native whites, over twenty
years of age, who had never attended school</i>!</p>

<p>The six New England States, with a population of 2,705,000, had in 1850
but eight thousand unable to read and write, while Virginia, North
Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama&mdash;five States, with a
population of 2,670,000 whites&mdash;<i>had two hundred and sixty-two thousand,
over twenty years of age, unable to read a word</i>! In the Northern States
educational facilities are rapidly increasing, while in the South they
are fast diminishing. In 1857 there were 96,000 school-children in
Vermont, and all but six thousand attended school. South Carolina the
same year had 114,000 school-children; of these <i>ninety-five thousand</i>
had no school privileges. Virginia had 414,000 school-children; <i>three
hundred and seventy-two thousand</i> of them had no means of learning the
alphabet!</p>

<p>In Missouri, in some of the counties, the school lands given by Congress
have been sold, and the money distributed among the people, instead of
being invested for the benefit of schools. With <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>each generation
ignorance has increased in the Southern States. It has been the design
of the slaveholders to keep the poor white men in ignorance. There,
neighbors are miles apart. There are vast tracts of land where the
solitude is unbroken by the sounds of labor. Schools and newspapers
cannot flourish. Information is given by word of mouth. Men are
influenced to political action by the arguments and stories of
stump-speakers, and not by reading newspapers. They vote as they are
told, or as they are influenced by the stories they hear. So, when the
leading conspirators were ready to bring about the rebellion, being in
possession of the State governments, holding official positions, by
misrepresentation, cunning, and wickedness, they were able to delude the
ignorant poor men, and induce them to vote to secede from the Union.</p>

<p>Two thousand years ago the natives of India manufactured cloth from the
fibres of the cotton-plant, which grew wild in the woods. The old
historian, Herodotus, says that the trees bore fleeces as white as snow.
A planter of South Carolina obtained some of the seeds, and began to
cultivate the plant. In 1748 ten bags of cotton were shipped to
Liverpool, but cotton-spinning had not then begun in England. In 1784
the custom-house officers at Liverpool seized eight bags which a planter
had sent over, on the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>ground that it was not possible to raise so much
in America. The manufacture of cotton goods was just then commencing in
England, and cotton was in demand. The plant grew luxuriantly in the
sunny fields of the South, but it was a day&#8217;s work for a negro to
separate the seed from a pound, and the planters despaired of making it
a profitable crop.</p>

<p>A few years before the Liverpool custom-house officers seized the eight
bags, a boy named Eli Whitney was attending school in Westboro&#8217;,
Massachusetts, who was destined to help the planters out of the
difficulty. He made water-wheels, which plashed in the roadside brooks,
and windmills, which whirled upon his father&#8217;s barn. He made violins,
which were the wonder and admiration of all musicians. He set up a shop,
and made nails by machinery, and thus earned money through the
Revolutionary War. When not more than twelve years old, he stayed at
home from meeting one Sunday alone, and took his father&#8217;s watch to
pieces, and put it together again so nicely that it went as well as
ever. It was not the proper business for Sunday, however.</p>

<p>When a young man, he went South to teach school. He happened to hear
General Greene, the brave and noble man who had been a match for Lord
Cornwallis, wish that there was a machine <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>for cleaning cotton. He
thought the matter over, went to work, and in a short time had a machine
which, with some improvements, now does the work of a thousand negroes.
He built it in secret, but the planters, getting wind of it, broke open
his room, stole his invention, built machines of their own, and cheated
him out of his property.</p>

<p>About this time there was a poor cotton-spinner in England who thought
he could invent a machine for spinning. He sat up late nights, and
thought how to have the wheels, cranks, and belts arranged. At times he
was almost discouraged, but his patient, cheerful, loving wife
encouraged him, and he succeeded at last in making a machine which would
do the work of a thousand spinners. He named it Jenny, for his wife, who
had been so patient and cheerful, though she and the children, some of
the time while he was studying upon the invention, had little to eat.</p>

<p>The gin and the jenny made cotton cloth much cheaper than it had been.
Many manufactories were built in England and in the New England States.
More acres of cotton were planted in the South, and more negroes stolen
from Africa. In the North, along the mill-streams, there was the click
and clatter of machinery. A great many ships were needed to transport
the cotton from <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>the agricultural South to the manufactories of the
commercial, industrious, trading North. The cotton crop of the South in
1784 was worth only a few hundred dollars, but the crop of 1860 was
worth hundreds of millions, so great had been the increase.</p>

<p>This great demand for cotton affected trade and commerce the world over.
The planters had princely incomes from the labor of their slaves. Some
of them received $50,000 to $100,000 a year. They said that cotton was
king, and ruled the world. They thought that the whole human race was
dependent upon them, and that by withholding their cotton a single year
they could compel the whole world to acknowledge their power. They were
few in number,&mdash;about three hundred thousand in thirty millions of
people. They used every means possible to extend and perpetuate their
power. They saw that the Northern States were beehives of industry, and
that the boys swarming from the Northern school-houses were becoming
mechanics, farmers, teachers, engaging in all employments, and that
knowledge as a power was getting the better of wealth.</p>

<p>The men of the North were settling the new States of the West, and
political power in Congress was slipping from the hands of the South. To
retain that power they must bring additional Slave States into the
Union. They therefore demanded <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>the right to take their slaves into new
Territories. The Northern school-boys who had grown to be men, who had
gone into the far West to build them homes, could not consent to see
their children deprived of that which had made them men. They saw that
if slavery came in, schools must go out. They saw that where slavery
existed there were three distinct classes in society,&mdash;the few rich,
unscrupulous, hard-hearted slaveholders, the many poor, ignorant,
debased white men, and the slaves. They saw that free labor and slave
labor could not exist together. They therefore rightfully resisted the
extension of slavery into the Territories. But the slaveholders carried
the day. The North was outvoted and obliged to yield.</p>

<p>The descendants of the first families of Virginia raised slaves for a
living. It was degrading to labor, but a very honorable way of getting a
living to raise pigs, mules, and negroes,&mdash;to sell them to the more
southern States,&mdash;to sell their own sons and daughters! Their fathers
purchased wives: why should they not sell their own children?</p>

<p>It was very profitable to raise negroes for the market, and the
ministers of the South, in their pulpits on the Sabbath, said it was a
Christian occupation. They expounded the Bible, and showed the
benevolent designs of God in establishing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>slavery. It was right. It had
the sanction of the Almighty. It was a Divine missionary institution.</p>

<p>Their political success, their great power, their wealth,&mdash;which they
received through the unpaid labor of their slaves, and from selling
their own sons and daughters,&mdash;developed their bad traits of character.
They became proud, insolent, domineering, and ambitious. They demanded
the right not only to extend slavery over all the Territories of the
United States, but also the right to take their slaves into the Free
States. They demanded that no one should speak or write against slavery.
They secured the passage of a law by Congress enabling them to catch
their runaway slaves. They demanded that the Constitution should be
changed to favor the growth and extension of slavery. For many years
they plotted against the government,&mdash;threatening to destroy it if they
could not have what they demanded. They looked with utter contempt upon
the hard-working men of the North. They determined to rule or ruin.
Every Northern man living at the South was looked upon with suspicion.
Some were tarred and feathered, others hung, and many were killed in
cold blood! No Northern man could open his lips on that subject in the
South. Men of the North could not travel there. The noble astronomer,
Mitchell, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>the brave general who has laid down his life for his country,
was surrounded by an ignorant, excited mob in Alabama, who were ready to
hang him because he told them he was in favor of the Union. But Southern
orators and political speakers were invited North, and listened to with
respect by the thinking, reasoning people,&mdash;the pupils of the common
schools.</p>

<p>Climate, trade, commerce, common schools, and industry have made the
North different from the South; but there was nothing in these to bring
on the war.</p>

<p>When the slaveholders saw that they had lost their power in Congress to
pass laws for the extension of slavery, they determined to secede from
the Union. When the North elected a President who declared himself
opposed to the extension of slavery, they began the war. They stole
forts, arsenals, money, steamboats,&mdash;everything they could lay their
hands on belonging to government and individuals,&mdash;seceded from the
Union, formed a confederacy, raised an army, and fired the first gun.</p>

<p>They planned a great empire, which should extend south to the Isthmus of
Darien and west to the Pacific Ocean, and made slavery its cornerstone.
They talked of conquering the North. They declared that the time would
come when they would muster their slaves on Bunker Hill, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>when the
laboring men of the North, &#8220;with hat in hand, should stand meekly before
them, their masters.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>

<p>They besieged Fort Sumter, fired upon the ships sent to its relief,
bombarded the fort and captured it. To save their country, their
government, all that was dear to them, to protect their insulted,
time-honored flag, the men of the North took up arms.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>

<h3>THE GATHERING OF A GREAT ARMY.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span>
Rebels began the war by firing upon Fort Sumter. You remember how
stupefying the news of its surrender. You could not at first believe
that they would fire upon the Stars and Stripes,&mdash;the flag respected and
honored everywhere on earth. When there was no longer a doubt that they
had begun hostilities, you could not have felt worse if you had heard of
the death of a very dear friend. But as you thought it over and
reflected upon the wickedness of the act, so deliberate and terrible,
you felt that you would like to see the traitors hung; not that it would
be a pleasure to see men die a felon&#8217;s death, but because you loved your
country and its flag, with its heaven-born hues, its azure field of
stars! Not that the flag is anything in itself to be protected, honored,
and revered, but because it is the emblem of constitutional liberty and
freedom, the ensign of the best, freest, noblest government ever
established. It had cost suffering and blood. Kings, aristocrats,
despots, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>and tyrants, in the Old World and in the New hated it, but
millions of men in other lands, suffering, abused, robbed of their
rights, beheld it as their banner of hope. When you thought how it had
been struck down by traitors, when you heard that the President had
called for seventy five thousand troops, you hurrahed with all your
might, and wished that you were old enough and big enough to go and
fight the Rebels.</p>

<p>The drums beat in the street. You saw the soldiers hasten to take their
places in the gathering ranks. You marched beside them and kept step
with the music. The sunlight gleamed from their bayonets. Their
standards waved in the breeze, while the drum, the fife, the bugle, and
the trumpet thrilled you as never before. You marched proudly and
defiantly. You felt that you could annihilate the stoutest Rebel. You
followed the soldiers to the railroad depot and hurrahed till the train
which bore them away was out of sight.</p>

<p>Let us follow them to Washington, and see the gathering of a great army.
The Rebels have threatened to capture that city and make it their seat
of government, and it must be saved.</p>

<p>We have been a quiet, peaceable nation, and have had no great standing
armies of a half-million men. We know but little about war. The Northern
States are unprepared for war. President <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>Buchanan&#8217;s Secretary of War,
Floyd, has proved himself a thief. He has stolen several hundred
thousands of muskets, thousands of pieces of artillery, sending them
from the Northern arsenals to the South. The slaveholders have been for
many years plotting the rebellion. They are armed, and we are not. Their
arsenals are well filled, while ours are empty, because President
Buchanan was a weak old man, and kept thieves and traitors in places of
trust and power.</p>

<p>At the call of the President every village sends its soldiers, every
town its company. When you listened to the soul-thrilling music of the
band, and watched the long, winding train as it vanished with the troops
in the distance, you had one little glimpse of the machinery of war, as
when riding past a great manufactory you see a single pulley, or a row
of spindles through a window. You do not see the thousands of wheels,
belts, shafts,&mdash;the hundred thousand spindles, the arms of iron, fingers
of brass, and springs of steel, and the mighty wheel which gives motion
to all,&mdash;and so you have not seen the great, complicated, far-reaching,
and powerful machinery of war.</p>

<p>But there is activity everywhere. Drums are beating, men assembling,
soldiers marching, and hastening on in regiments. They go into camp and
sleep on the ground, wrapped in their blankets. It is a new life. They
have no napkins, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>no table-cloths at breakfast, dinner, or supper, no
china plates or silver forks. Each soldier has his tin plate and cup,
and makes a hearty meal of beef and bread. It is hard-baked bread. They
call it <i>hard-tack</i>, because it might be tacked upon the roof of a house
instead of shingles. They also have Cincinnati <i>chicken</i>. At home they
called it pork; fowls are scarce and pork is plenty in camp, so they
make believe it is chicken!</p>

<p>There is drilling by squads, companies, battalions, and by regiments.
Some stand guard around the camp by day, and others go out on picket at
night, to watch for the enemy. It is military life. Everything is done
by orders. When you become a soldier, you cannot go and come as you
please. Privates, lieutenants, captains, colonels, generals, all are
subject to the orders of their superior officers. All must obey the
general in command. You march, drill, eat, sleep, go to bed, and get up
by order. At sunrise you hear the reveille, and at nine o&#8217;clock in the
evening the tattoo. Then the candle, which has been burning in your tent
with a bayonet for a candlestick, must be put out. In the dead of night,
while sleeping soundly and dreaming of home, you hear the drum-beat. It
is the long roll. There is a rattle of musketry. The pickets are at it.
Every man springs to his feet.</p>

<p>&#8220;Turn out! turn out!&#8221; shouts the colonel.</p>

<p>&#8220;Fall in! fall in!&#8221; cries the captain.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>There is confusion throughout the camp,&mdash;a trampling of feet and loud,
hurried talking. In your haste you get your boots on wrong, and buckle
your cartridge-box on bottom up. You rush out in the darkness, not
minding your steps, and are caught by the tent-ropes. You tumble
headlong, upsetting to-morrow&#8217;s breakfast of beans. You take your place
in the ranks, nervous, excited, and trembling at you know not what. The
regiment rushes toward the firing, which suddenly ceases. An officer
rides up in the darkness and says it is a false alarm! You march back to
camp, cool and collected now, grumbling at the stupidity of the picket,
who saw a bush, thought it was a Rebel, fired his gun, and alarmed the
whole camp.</p>

<p>In the autumn of 1861 the army of the Potomac, encamped around
Washington, numbered about two hundred thousand men. Before it marches
to the battle-field, let us see how it is organized, how it looks, how
it is fed; let us get an insight into its machinery.</p>

<p>Go up in the balloon which you see hanging in the air across the Potomac
from Georgetown, and look down upon this great army. All the country
round is dotted with white tents,&mdash;some in the open fields, and some
half hid by the forest-trees. Looking away to the northwest you see the
right wing. Arlington is the centre, and at Alexandria is the left wing.
You see men in ranks, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>in files, in long lines, in masses, moving to and
fro, marching and countermarching, learning how to fight a battle. There
are thousands of wagons and horses; there are from two to three hundred
pieces of artillery. How long the line, if all were on the march! Men
marching in files are about three feet apart. A wagon with four horses
occupies fifty feet. If this army was moving on a narrow country road,
four cavalrymen riding abreast, and men in files of four, with all the
artillery, ammunition-wagons, supply-trains, ambulances, and equipment,
it would reach from Boston to Hartford, or from New York city to Albany,
a hundred and fifty miles!</p>

<p>To move such a multitude, to bring order out of confusion, there must be
a system, a plan, and an organization. Regiments are therefore formed
into brigades, with usually about four regiments to a brigade. Three or
four brigades compose a division, and three or four divisions make an
army corps. A corps when full numbers from twenty-five to thirty
thousand men.</p>

<p>When an army moves, the general commanding it issues his orders to the
generals commanding the corps; they issue their orders to the division
commanders, the division commanders to the brigadiers, they to the
colonels, and the colonels to captains, and the captains to the
companies. As the great wheel in the factory turns <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>all the machinery, so
one mind moves the whole army. The general-in-chief must designate the
road which each corps shall take, the time when they are to march, where
they are to march to, and sometimes the hour when they must arrive at an
appointed place. The corps commanders must direct which of their
divisions shall march first, what roads they shall take, and where they
shall encamp at night. The division commanders direct what brigades
shall march first. No corps, division, or brigade commander can take any
other road than that assigned him, without producing confusion and
delay.</p>

<p>The army must have its food regularly. Think how much food it takes to
supply the city of Boston, or Cincinnati every day. Yet here are as many
men as there are people in those cities. There are a great many more
horses in the army than in the stables of both of those cities. All must
be fed. There must be a constant supply of beef, pork, bread, beans,
vinegar, sugar, and coffee, oats, corn, and hay.</p>

<p>The army must also have its supplies of clothing, its boots, shoes, and
coats. It must have its ammunition, its millions of cartridges of
different kinds; for there are a great many kinds of guns in the
regiments,&mdash;Springfield and Enfield muskets, French, Belgian, Prussian,
and Austrian guns, requiring a great many different kinds of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>ammunition.
There are a great many different kinds of cannon. There must be no lack
of ammunition, no mistake in its distribution. So there is the
Quartermaster&#8217;s Department, the Commissary, and the Ordnance Department.
The Quartermaster moves and clothes the army, the Commissary feeds it,
and the Ordnance officer supplies it with ammunition. The
general-in-chief has a Quartermaster-General, a chief Commissary and a
chief Ordnance officer, who issue their orders to the chief officers in
their departments attached to each corps. They issue their orders to
their subordinates in the divisions, and the division officers to those
in the brigades.</p>

<p>Then there is a Surgeon-General, who directs all the hospital
operations, who must see that the sick and wounded are all taken care
of. There are camp surgeons, division, brigade, and regimental surgeons.
There are hospital nurses, ambulance drivers, all subject to the orders
of the surgeon. No other officer can direct them. Each department is
complete in itself.</p>

<p>It has cost a great deal of thought, labor, and money to construct this
great machinery. In creating it there has been much thinking, energy,
determination, and labor; and there must be constant forethought in
anticipating future wants, necessities, and contingencies, when to move,
where, and how. The army does not exist of its own accord, but by
constant, unremitting effort.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>The people of the country determined that the Constitution, the Union,
and the government bequeathed by their fathers should be preserved. They
authorized the President to raise a great army. Congress voted money and
men. The President, acting as the agent of the people, and as
Commander-in-Chief, appointed men to bring all the materials together
and organize the army. Look at what was wanted to build this mighty
machine and to keep it going.</p>

<p>First, the hundreds of thousands of men; the thousands of horses; the
thousands of barrels of beef, pork, and flour; thousands of hogsheads of
sugar, vinegar, rice, salt, bags of coffee, and immense stores of other
things. Thousands of tons of hay, bags of oats and corn. What numbers of
men and women have been at work to get each soldier ready for the field.
He has boots, clothes, and equipments. The tanner, currier, shoemaker,
the manufacturer, with his swift-flying shuttles, the operator tending
his looms and spinning-jennies, the tailor with his sewing-machines, the
gunsmith, the harness-maker, the blacksmith,&mdash;all trades and occupations
have been employed. There are saddles, bridles, knapsacks, canteens,
dippers, plates, knives, stoves, kettles, tents, blankets, medicines,
drums, swords, pistols, guns, cannon, powder, percussion-caps, bullets,
shot, shells, wagons,&mdash;everything.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>Walk leisurely through the camps, and observe the little things and the
great things, see the men on the march. Then go into the Army and Navy
Departments in Washington, in those brick buildings west of the
President&#8217;s house. In those rooms are surveys, maps, plans, papers,
charts of the ocean, of the sea-coast, currents, sand-bars, shoals, the
rising and falling of tides. In the Topographical Bureau you see maps of
all sections of the country. There is the Ordnance Bureau, with all
sorts of guns, rifles, muskets, carbines, pistols, swords, shells,
rifled shot, fuses which the inventors have brought in. There are a
great many bureaus, with immense piles of papers and volumes, containing
experiments upon the strength of iron, the trials of cannon, guns,
mortars, and powder. There have been experiments to determine how much
powder shall be used, whether it shall be as fine as mustard-seed or as
coarse as lumps of sugar, and the results are all noted here. All the
appliances of science, industry, and art are brought into use to make it
the best army the world ever saw.</p>

<p>It is the business of the government to bring the materials together,
and the business of the generals to organize it into brigades,
divisions, and corps,&mdash;to determine the number of cavalry and batteries
of artillery, to place weak materials in their proper places, and the
strongest where they will be most needed.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>The general commanding must have a plan of operations. Napoleon said
that war is like a game of chess, and that a commander must make his
game. He must think it out beforehand, and in such a manner that the
enemy will be compelled to play it in his way and be defeated. The
general-in-chief must see the end from the beginning, just as Napoleon,
sticking his map of Europe full of pins, decided that he could defeat
the Austrians at Austerlitz, the Prussians at Jena. That is genius. The
general-in-chief makes his plan on the supposition that all his orders
will be obeyed promptly, that no one will shirk responsibility, that not
one of all the vast multitude will fail to do his duty.</p>

<p>The night before the battle of Waterloo, Napoleon sent an order to an
officer to take possession of a little hillock, on which stood a
farm-house overlooking the plain. The officer thought it would do just
as well if he let it go till morning, but in the morning the English had
possession of the spot, and in consequence of that officer&#8217;s neglect
Napoleon probably lost the great battle, his army, and his empire. Great
events often hang on little things, and in military operations it is of
the utmost importance that they should be attended to.</p>

<p>From the beginning to the end, unless every man does his duty, from the
general in command <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>to the private in the ranks, there is danger of
failure.</p>

<p>Thus the army is organized, and thus through organization it becomes a
disciplined body. Instead of being a confused mass of men, horses,
mules, cannon, caissons, wagons, and ambulances, it is a body which can
be divided, subdivided, separated by miles of country, hurried here and
there, hurled upon the enemy, and brought together again by the stroke
of a pen, by a word, or the click of the telegraph.</p>

<p>When a battle is to be fought, the general-in-chief must not only have
his plan how to get the great mass of men to the field, but he must have
a plan of movement on the field. Each corps must have its position
assigned. There must be a line of battle. It is not a continuous line of
men, but there are wide spaces, perhaps miles wide, between the corps,
divisions, and brigades. Hills, ravines, streams, swamps, houses,
villages, bushes, a fence, rocks, wheat-fields, sunlight and shade, all
must be taken into account. Batteries must be placed on hills, or in
commanding positions to sweep all the country round. Infantry must be
gathered in masses in the centre or on either wing, or deployed and
separated according to circumstances. They must be sheltered. They must
be thrown here or there, as they may be needed to hold or to crush the
enemy. They are to stand <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>still and be ploughed through by shot and
shell, or rush into the thickest of the fight, just as they may be
ordered. They are not to question the order;&mdash;</p>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox">
&#8220;Theirs not to make reply,<br />
Theirs not to reason why,<br />
Theirs but to do and die.&#8221;</div>

<p>There are sleepless nights in the tent of the general-in-chief. When all
others except the pickets are asleep, he is examining maps and plans,
calculating distances, estimating the strength of his army, and asking
himself whether it will do to attack the enemy, or whether he shall
stand on the defensive? can this brigade be relied upon for a desperate
charge? will that division hold the enemy in check? At such times, the
good name, the valor, the bravery of the troops and of the officers who
command them is reviewed. He weighs character. He knows who are reliable
and who inefficient. He studies, examines papers, consults reports,
makes calculations, sits abstractedly, walks nervously, and lies down to
dream it all over again and again.</p>

<p>The welfare of the country, thousands of lives, and perhaps the destiny
of the nation, is in his hands. How shall he arrange his corps? ought
the troops to be massed in the centre, or shall he concentrate them on
the wings? shall he feel of the enemy with a division or two, or rush
upon <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>him like an avalanche? Can the enemy outflank him, or get upon his
rear? What if the Rebels should pounce upon his ammunition and
supply-trains? What is the position of the enemy? How large is his
force? How many batteries has he? How much cavalry? What do the scouts
report? Are the scouts to be believed? One says the enemy is retreating,
another that he is advancing. What are the probabilities? A thousand
questions arise which must be answered. The prospect of success must be
carefully calculated. Human life must be thrown remorselessly into the
scale. All the sorrows and the tears of wives, mothers, fathers,
brothers, and sisters far away, who will mourn for the dead, must be
forgotten. He must shut up all tender thoughts, and become an iron man.
Ah! it is not so fine a thing to be a general, perhaps, as you have
imagined!</p>

<p>It is an incomplete, imperfect, and unsatisfactory look which you have
taken of the machinery of a great army. But you can see that a very
small thing may upset the best-laid plan of any commander. The cowardice
of a regiment, the failure of an officer to do his duty, to be at a
place at an appointed moment, the miscarriage of orders, a hundred
things which you can think of, may turn a victory into a defeat. You can
see that a great battle must be a grand and terrible affair; but though
you may use all your powers of imagination <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>in endeavoring to picture the
positions of the troops,&mdash;how they look, how they act, how they stand
amid the terrible storm, braying death, how they rush into the thickest
fire, how they fall like the sere leaves of autumn,&mdash;you will fail in
your conceptions of the conflict. You must see it, and be in it, to know
what it is.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>

<h3>THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span>
first great battle of the war was fought near Bull Run, in Virginia.
There had been skirmishing along the Potomac, in Western Virginia, and
Missouri; but upon the banks of this winding stream was fought a battle
which will be forever memorable. The Rebels call it the battle of
Manassas. It has been called also the battle of Stone Bridge and the
battle of Warrenton Road.</p>

<p>Bull Run is a lazy, sluggish stream, a branch of the Occoquan River,
which empties into the Potomac. It rises among the Bull Run Mountains,
and flows southeast through Fairfax County. Just beyond the stream, as
you go west from Washington, are the plains of Manassas,&mdash;level lands,
which years ago waved with corn and tobacco, but the fields long since
were worn out by the thriftless farming of the slaveholders, and now
they are overgrown with thickets of pine and oak.</p>

<p>Two railroads meet upon the plains, one running <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>northwest through the
mountain gaps into the valley of the Shenandoah, and the other running
from Alexandria to Richmond, Culpepper, and the Southwest. The junction,
therefore, became an important place for Rebel military operations.
There, in June, 1861, General Beauregard mustered his army, which was to
defeat the Union army and capture Washington. The Richmond newspapers
said that this army would not only capture Washington, but would also
dictate terms of peace on the banks of the Hudson. Hot-headed men, who
seemed to have lost their reason through the influence of slavery and
secession, thought that the Southern troops were invincible. They were
confident that one Southerner could whip five Yankees. Ladies cheered
them, called them chivalrous sons of the South, and urged them on to the
field.</p>

<p>But General Beauregard, instead of advancing upon Washington, awaited an
attack from the Union army, making Bull Run his line of defence,
throwing up breastworks, cutting down trees, and sheltering his men
beneath the thick growth of the evergreen pines.</p>

<p>The army of the Union, called the Army of the Potomac, assembled at
Arlington Heights and Alexandria. General McDowell was placed in
command. Half of his soldiers were men who had enlisted for three
months, who had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>suddenly left their homes at the call of the President.
Their term of service had nearly expired. The three years&#8217; men had been
but a few days in camp. Military duties were new. They knew nothing of
discipline, but they confidently expected to defeat the enemy and move
on to Richmond. Few people thought of the possibility of defeat.</p>

<p>Let us walk up the valley of Bull Run and notice its fords, its wooded
banks, the scattered farm-houses, and fields of waving grain. Ten miles
from the Occoquan we come to the railroad bridge. A mile farther up is
McLean&#8217;s Ford; another mile carries us to Blackburn&#8217;s, and another mile
brings us to Mitchell&#8217;s. Above these are Island Ford, Lewis Ford, and
Ball&#8217;s Ford. Three miles above Mitchell&#8217;s there is a stone bridge, where
the turnpike leading from Centreville to Warrenton crosses the stream.
Two miles farther up is a place called Sudley Springs,&mdash;a cluster of
houses, a little stone church, a blacksmith&#8217;s shop. The stream there has
dwindled to a brook, and gurgles over a rocky bed.</p>

<p>Going back to the stone bridge, and standing upon its parapet, you may
look east to Centreville, about four miles distant, beautifully situated
on a high ridge of land, but a very old, dilapidated place when you get
to it. Going west from the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>bridge, you see upon your right hand a swell
of land, and another at your left hand, south of the turnpike. A brook
trickles by the roadside. Leaving the turnpike, and ascending the ridge
on the north side, you see that towards Sudley Springs there are other
swells of land, with wheat-fields, fences, scattered trees, and groves
of pines and oaks. Looking across to the hill south of the turnpike, a
half-mile distant, you see the house of Mr. Lewis, and west of it Mrs.
Henry&#8217;s, on the highest knoll. Mrs. Henry is an old lady, so far
advanced in life that she is helpless. Going up the turnpike a mile from
the bridge, you come to the toll-gate, kept by Mr. Mathey. A cross-road
comes down from Sudley Springs, and leads south towards Manassas
Junction, six miles distant. Leave the turnpike once more, and go
northwest a half-mile, and you come to the farm of Mr. Dogan. There are
farm-sheds and haystacks near his house.</p>

<p>This ground, from Dogan&#8217;s to the ridge east of the toll-gate, across the
turnpike and the trickling brook to Mr. Lewis&#8217;s and Mrs. Henry&#8217;s, is the
battle-field. You see it,&mdash;the ridges of land, the houses, haystacks,
fences, knolls, ravines, wheat-fields, turnpike, and groves of oak and
pine,&mdash;a territory about two miles square.</p>

<p>On Saturday, June 20th, General Johnston, with nearly all the Rebel army
of the Shenandoah, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>arrived at Manassas. Being General Beauregard&#8217;s
superior officer, he took command of all the troops. He had about thirty
thousand men.</p>

<p>On Thursday, General Richardson&#8217;s brigade of General McDowell&#8217;s army had
a skirmish with General Longstreet&#8217;s brigade at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford, which
the Rebels call the battle of Bull Run, while that which was fought on
the 21st they call the battle of Manassas. General Beauregard expected
that the attack would be renewed along the fords, and posted his men
accordingly.</p>

<p>Going down to the railroad bridge, we see General Ewell&#8217;s brigade of the
Rebel army on the western bank guarding the crossing. General Jones&#8217;s
brigade is at McLean&#8217;s Ford. At Blackburn&#8217;s Ford is General
Longstreet&#8217;s, and at Mitchell&#8217;s Ford is General Bonham&#8217;s. Near by
Bonham&#8217;s is General Earley&#8217;s, General Bartow&#8217;s, and General Holmes&#8217;s.
General Jackson&#8217;s is in rear of General Bonham&#8217;s. At Island Ford is
General Bee and Colonel Hampton&#8217;s legion, also Stuart&#8217;s cavalry. At
Ball&#8217;s Ford is General Cocke&#8217;s brigade. Above, at the Stone Bridge, is
the extreme left of the Rebel army, General Evans&#8217;s brigade. General
Elzey&#8217;s brigade of the Shenandoah army is on its way in the cars, and is
expected to reach the battle-field before the contest closes. General
Johnston has between fifty and sixty pieces of artillery and about one
thousand cavalry.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span>General McDowell had also about thirty thousand men and forty-nine
pieces of artillery. His army was in four divisions,&mdash;General Tyler&#8217;s,
General Hunter&#8217;s, General Heintzelman&#8217;s, and General Miles&#8217;s. One
brigade of General Tyler&#8217;s and General Miles&#8217;s division was left at
Centreville to make a feint of attacking the enemy at Blackburn&#8217;s and
Mitchell&#8217;s Fords, and to protect the rear of the army from an attack by
Generals Ewell and Jones. The other divisions of the army&mdash;five
brigades, numbering eighteen thousand men, with thirty-six
cannon&mdash;marched soon after midnight, to be ready to make the attack by
sunrise on Sunday morning.</p>

<p>General Tyler, with General Keyes&#8217;s brigade, General Sherman&#8217;s, and
General Schenck&#8217;s, marched down the turnpike towards the Stone Bridge,
where General Evans was on the watch. General Tyler had twelve pieces of
artillery,&mdash;two batteries, commanded by Ayer and Carlisle.</p>

<p>It is sunrise as they approach the bridge,&mdash;a calm, peaceful Sabbath
morning. The troops leave the turnpike, march into a cornfield, and
ascend a hill overlooking the bridge. As you stand there amid the
tasselled stalks, you see the stream rippling beneath the stone arches,
and upon the other bank breastworks of earth and fallen trees. Half hid
beneath the oaks and pines are the Rebel regiments, their gun-barrels
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 43]</span>and bayonets flashing in the morning light. Beyond the breastworks upon
the knolls are the farm-houses of Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Henry.</p>

<p>Captain Ayer, who has seen fighting in Mexico, brings his guns upon the
hill, wheels them into position, and sights them towards the
breastworks. There is a flash, a puff of smoke, a screaming in the air,
and then across the stream a handful of cloud bursts into view above the
Rebel lines. The shell has exploded. There is a sudden movement of the
Rebel troops. It is the first gun of the morning. And now, two miles
down the Run, by Mitchell&#8217;s Ford, rolling, echoing, and reverberating
through the forests, are other thunderings. General Richardson has been
waiting impatiently to hear the signal gun. He is to make a feint of
attacking. His cannonade is to begin furiously. He has six guns, and all
of them are in position, throwing solid shot and shells into the wood
where Longstreet&#8217;s men are lying.</p>

<p>All of Ayer&#8217;s guns are in play, hurling rifled shot and shells, which
scream like an unseen demon as they fly over the cornfield, over the
meadow lands, to the woods and fields beyond the stream.</p>

<p>General Hunter and General Heintzelman, with their divisions, have left
the turnpike two miles from Centreville, at Cub Run bridge, a rickety,
wooden structure, which creaks and trembles as <span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span>the heavy cannon rumble
over. They march into the northwest, along a narrow road,&mdash;a round-about
way to Sudley Springs. It is a long march. They started at two o&#8217;clock,
and have had no breakfast. They waited three hours at Cub Run, while
General Tyler&#8217;s division was crossing, and they are therefore three
hours behind the appointed time. General McDowell calculated and
intended to have them at Sudley Springs by six o&#8217;clock, but now it is
nine. They stop a half-hour at the river-crossing to fill their canteens
from the gurgling stream.</p>

<p>Looking south from the little stone church, you see clouds of dust
floating over the forest-trees. The Rebels have discovered the movement,
and are marching in hot haste to resist the impending attack. General
Evans has left a portion of his command at Stone Bridge, and is
hastening with the remainder to the second ridge of land north of the
turnpike. He plants his artillery on the hill, and secretes his infantry
in a thicket of pines. General Bee is on the march, so is General Bartow
and General Jackson, all upon the double-quick. Rebel officers ride
furiously, and shout their orders. The artillerymen lash their horses to
a run. The infantry are also upon the run, sweating and panting in the
hot sunshine. The noise and confusion increase. The booming deepens
along the valley, for still farther down, by <span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span>Blackburn&#8217;s Ford, Hunt&#8217;s
battery is pouring its fire upon Longstreet&#8217;s, Jones&#8217;s, and Ewell&#8217;s men.</p>

<p>The Union troops at Sudley Springs move across the stream. General
Burnside&#8217;s brigade is in advance. The Second Rhode Island infantry is
thrown out, deployed as skirmishers. The men are five paces apart. They
move slowly, cautiously, and nervously through the fields and thickets.</p>

<p>Suddenly, from bushes, trees, and fences there is a rattle of musketry.
General Evans&#8217;s skirmishers are firing. There are jets of flame and
smoke, and a strange humming in the air. There is another rattle, a
roll, a volley. The cannon join. The first great battle has begun.
General Hunter hastens to the spot, and is wounded almost at the first
volley, and compelled to leave the field. The contest suddenly grows
fierce. The Rhode Island boys push on to closer quarters, and the Rebels
under General Evans give way from a thicket to a fence, from a fence to
a knoll.</p>

<p>General Bee arrives with his brigade to help General Evans. You see him
swing up into line west of Evans, towards the haystacks by Dogan&#8217;s
house. He is in such a position that he can pour a fire upon the flank
of the Rhode Island boys, who are pushing Evans. It is a galling fire,
and the brave fellows are cut down by the raking shots from the
haystacks. They are almost overwhelmed. But help is at hand. The
Seventy-first <span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span>New York, the Second New Hampshire, and the First Rhode
Island, all belonging to Burnside&#8217;s brigade, move toward the haystacks.
They bring their guns to a level, and the rattle and roll begin. There
are jets of flame, long lines of light, white clouds, unfolding and
expanding, rolling over and over, and rising above the tree-tops. Wilder
the uproar. Men fall, tossing their arms; some leap into the air, some
plunge headlong, falling like logs of wood or lumps of lead. Some reel,
stagger, and tumble; others lie down gently as to a night&#8217;s repose,
unheeding the din, commotion, and uproar. They are bleeding, torn, and
mangled. Legs, arms, bodies, are crushed. They see nothing. They cannot
tell what has happened. The air is full of fearful noises. An unseen
storm sweeps by. The trees are splintered, crushed, and broken as if
smitten by thunderbolts. Twigs and leaves fall to the ground. There is
smoke, dust, wild talking, shouting, hissings, howlings, explosions. It
is a new, strange, unanticipated experience to the soldiers of both
armies, far different from what they thought it would be.</p>

<p>Far away, church-bells are tolling the hour of Sabbath worship, and
children are singing sweet songs in many a Sunday school. Strange and
terrible the contrast! You cannot bear to look upon the dreadful scene.
How horrible those wounds! The ground is crimson with blood. <span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span>You are
ready to turn away, and shut the scene forever from your sight. But the
battle must go on, and the war must go on till the wicked men who began
it are crushed, till the honor of the dear old flag is vindicated, till
the Union is restored, till the country is saved, till the slaveholder
is deprived of his power, and till freedom comes to the slave. It is
terrible to see, but you remember that the greatest blessing the world
ever received was purchased by blood,&mdash;the blood of the Son of God. It
is terrible to see, but there are worse things than war. It is worse to
have the rights of men trampled in the dust; worse to have your country
destroyed, to have justice, truth, and honor violated. You had better be
killed, torn to pieces by cannon-shot, than lose your manhood, or yield
that which makes you a man. It is better to die than give up that rich
inheritance bequeathed us by our fathers, and purchased by their blood.</p>

<p>The battle goes on. General Porter&#8217;s brigade comes to the aid of
Burnside, moving towards Dogan&#8217;s house. Jackson&#8217;s Rebel brigade is there
to meet him. Arnold&#8217;s battery is in play,&mdash;guns pouring a constant
stream of shot and shells upon the Rebel line. The Washington Artillery,
from New Orleans, is replying from the hill south of Dogan&#8217;s. Other
Rebel batteries are cutting Burnside&#8217;s brigade to pieces. The men are
all but <span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span>ready to fall back before the terrible storm. Burnside sends to
Porter for help,&mdash;he asks for the brave old soldiers, the regulars, who
have been true to the flag of their country, while many of their former
officers have been false. They have been long in the service, and have
had many fierce contests with the Indians on the Western plains. They
are as true as steel. Captain Sykes commands them. He leads the way. You
see them, with steady ranks, in the edge of the woods east of Dogan&#8217;s
house. They have been facing southwest, and now they turn to the
southeast. They pass through the grove of pines, and enter the open
field. They are cut through and through with solid shot, shells burst
around them, men drop from the ranks, but the battalion does not falter.
It sweeps on close up to the cloud of flame and smoke rolling from the
hill north of the turnpike. Their muskets come to a level. There is a
click, click, click, along the line. A broad sheet of flame, a white,
sulphurous cloud, a deep roll like the angry growl of thunder. There is
sudden staggering in the Rebel ranks. Men whirl round, and drop upon the
ground. The line wavers, and breaks. They run down the hill, across the
hollows, to another knoll. There they rally, and hold their ground a
while. Hampton&#8217;s legion and Cocke&#8217;s brigade come to their support.
Fugitives are brought back by the officers, who ride furiously <span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span>over the
field. There is a lull, and then the strife goes on, a rattling fire of
musketry, and a continual booming of the cannonade.</p>

<p>General Heintzelman&#8217;s division was in rear of General Hunter&#8217;s on the
march. When the battle begun the troops were several miles from Sudley
Church. They were parched with thirst, and when they reached the stream
they, too, stopped and filled their canteens. Burnside&#8217;s and Porter&#8217;s
brigades were engaged two hours before Heintzelman&#8217;s division reached
the field. Eight regiments had driven the Rebels from their first
position.</p>

<p>General Heintzelman marched upon the Rebels west of Dogan&#8217;s house. The
Rebel batteries were on a knoll, a short distance from the toll-gate.
Griffin and Ricketts opened upon them with their rifled guns. Then came
a great puff of smoke. It was a Rebel caisson blown up by one of
Griffin&#8217;s shells. It was a continuous, steady artillery fire. The
gunners of the Rebel batteries were swept away by the unerring aim of
Griffin&#8217;s gunners. They changed position again and again, to avoid the
shot. Mingled with the constant crashing of the cannonade was an
irregular firing of muskets, like the pattering of rain-drops upon a
roof. At times there was a quicker rattle, and heavy rolls, like the
fall of a great building.</p>

<p>General Wilcox swung his brigade round upon Jackson&#8217;s flank. The Rebel
general must retreat <span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span>or be cut off, and he fell back to the toll-gate,
to the turnpike, across it, in confusion, to the ridge by Mrs. Henry&#8217;s.
Evans&#8217;s, Bee&#8217;s, Bartow&#8217;s, and Cocke&#8217;s brigades, which have been trying
to hold their ground against Burnside and Porter&#8217;s brigades, by this
movement are also forced back to Mr. Lewis&#8217;s house. The Rebels do not
all go back. There are hundreds who rushed up in hot haste in the
morning lying bleeding, torn, mangled, upon the wooded slopes. Some are
prisoners.</p>

<p>I talked with a soldier of one of the Virginia regiments. We were near
the Stone Bridge. He was a tall, athletic young man, dressed in a gray
uniform trimmed with yellow braid.</p>

<p>&#8220;How many soldiers have you on the field?&#8221; I asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;Ninety thousand.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Hardly that number, I guess.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Yes, sir. We have got Beauregard&#8217;s and Johnston&#8217;s armies. Johnston came
yesterday and a whole lot more from Richmond. If you whip us to-day, you
will whip nigh to a hundred thousand.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Who is in command?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Jeff Davis.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;I thought Beauregard was in command.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Well, he was; but Jeff Davis is on the field now. I know it; for I saw
him just before I was captured. He was on a white horse.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span>While talking, a shell screamed over our heads and fell in the woods.
The Rebel batteries had opened again upon our position. Another came,
and we were compelled to leave the spot.</p>

<p>The prisoner may have been honest in his statements. It requires much
judgment to correctly estimate large armies. He was correct in saying
that Jeff Davis was there. He was on the ground, watching the progress
of the battle, but taking no part. He arrived in season to see the close
of the contest.</p>

<p>After Burnside and Porter had driven Evans, Bee, and Bartow across the
turnpike, General Sherman and General Keyes crossed Bull Run above the
Stone Bridge and moved straight down the stream. Schenck&#8217;s brigade and
Ayer&#8217;s and Carlisle&#8217;s batteries were left to guard the rear.</p>

<p>Perhaps you had a brother or a father in the Second New Hampshire, or in
the Seventy-first New York, or in some other regiment; or perhaps when
the war is over you may wish to visit the spot and behold the ground
where the first great battle was fought. You will wish to see just where
they stood. Looking, then, along the line at one o&#8217;clock, you see
nearest the stream General Keyes&#8217;s brigade, composed of the First,
Second, and Third Connecticut regiments and the Fourth Maine. Next is
Sherman&#8217;s brigade, composed of the Sixty-ninth and Seventy-ninth New
York Militia, <span class="pagenum">[Pg 52]</span>the Thirteenth New York Volunteers, and the Second
Wisconsin. Between these and the toll-gate you see first, as you go
west, Burnside&#8217;s brigade, composed of the First and Second Rhode Island,
the Seventy-first New York Militia, and the Second New Hampshire, and
the Second Rhode Island battery; extending to the toll-house is Porter&#8217;s
brigade. He has Sykes&#8217;s battalion of regulars, and the Eighth and
Fourteenth regiments of New York Militia and Arnold&#8217;s battery. Crossing
the road which comes down from Sudley Springs, you see General
Franklin&#8217;s brigade, containing the Fifth Massachusetts Militia, the
First Minnesota Volunteers, and the Fourth Pennsylvania Militia. Next
you come to the men from Maine and Vermont, the Second, Fourth, and
Fifth Maine, and the Second Vermont, General Howard&#8217;s brigade. Beyond,
upon the extreme right, is General Wilcox with the First Michigan and
the Eleventh New York. Griffin&#8217;s and Rickett&#8217;s batteries are near at
hand. There are twenty-four regiments and twenty-four pieces of
artillery. There are two companies of cavalry. If we step over to the
house of Mr. Lewis, we shall find General Johnston and General
Beauregard in anxious consultation. General Johnston has sent officers
in hot haste for reinforcements. Brigades are arriving out of
breath,&mdash;General Cocke&#8217;s, Holmes&#8217;s, Longstreet&#8217;s, Earley&#8217;s. Broken
regiments, fragments <span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span>of companies, and stragglers are collected and
brought into line. General Bonham&#8217;s brigade is sent for. All but General
Ewell&#8217;s and General Jones&#8217;s; they are left to prevent General Miles from
crossing at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford and attacking the Rebel army in the rear.
General Johnston feels that it is a critical moment. He has been driven
nearly two miles. His flank has been turned. His loss has been very
great, and his troops are beginning to be disheartened. They have
changed their opinions of the Yankees.</p>

<p>General Johnston has Barley&#8217;s brigade, composed of the Seventh and
Twenty-fourth Virginia, and the Seventh Louisiana; Jackson&#8217;s brigade,
composed of the Second, Fourth, Fifth, Twenty-seventh, and Thirty-third
Virginia, and the Thirteenth Mississippi; Bee&#8217;s and Bartow&#8217;s brigades
united, composed of two companies of the Eleventh Mississippi, Second
Mississippi, First Alabama, Seventh and Eighth Georgia; Cocke&#8217;s brigade,
the Eighteenth, Nineteenth, and Twenty-eighth Virginia, seven companies
of the Eighth, and three of the Forty-ninth Virginia; Evans&#8217;s brigade,
composed of Hampton&#8217;s legion, Fourth South Carolina, and Wheat&#8217;s
Louisiana battalion; Holmes&#8217;s brigade, composed of two regiments of
Virginia infantry, the First Arkansas, and the Second Tennessee. Two
regiments of Bonham&#8217;s brigade, and Elzey&#8217;s brigade were brought in
before the conflict was <span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span>over. Putting the detached companies into
regiments, Johnston&#8217;s whole force engaged in this last struggle is
thirty-five regiments of infantry, and about forty pieces of artillery,
all gathered upon the ridge by Mr. Lewis&#8217;s and Mrs. Henry&#8217;s.</p>

<p>There is marching to and fro of regiments. There is not much order.
Regiments are scattered. The lines are not even. This is the first
battle, and officers and men are inexperienced. There are a great many
stragglers on both sides; more, probably, from the Rebel ranks than from
McDowell&#8217;s army, for thus far the battle has gone against them. You can
see them scattered over the fields, beyond Mr. Lewis&#8217;s.</p>

<p>The fight goes on. The artillery crashes louder than before. There is a
continuous rattle of musketry. It is like the roaring of a hail-storm.
Sherman and Keyes move down to the foot of the hill, near Mr. Lewis&#8217;s.
Burnside and Porter march across the turnpike. Franklin and Howard and
Wilcox, who have been pushing south, turn towards the southeast. There
are desperate hand-to-hand encounters. Cannon are taken and retaken.
Gunners on both sides are shot while loading their pieces. Hundreds
fall, and other hundreds leave the ranks. The woods toward Sudley
Springs are filled with wounded men and fugitives, weak, thirsty,
hungry, exhausted, worn down by the long morning march, want of sleep,
lack of food, and the excitement of the hour.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span>Across the plains, towards Manassas, are other crowds,&mdash;disappointed,
faint-hearted, defeated soldiers, fleeing for safety.</p>

<p>&#8220;We are defeated!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Our regiments are cut to pieces!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;General Bartow is wounded and General Bee is killed!&#8221;</p>

<p>Thus they cry, as they hasten towards Manassas.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Officers and men in
the Rebel ranks feel that the battle is all but lost. Union officers and
men feel that it is almost won.</p>

<p>The Rebel right wing, far out upon the turnpike, has been folded back
upon the centre; the centre has been driven in upon the left wing, and
the left wing has been pushed back beyond Mr. Lewis&#8217;s house. Griffin&#8217;s
and Rickett&#8217;s batteries, which had been firing from the ridge west of
the toll-gate, were ordered forward to the knoll from which the Rebel
batteries had been driven.</p>

<p>&#8220;It is too far in advance,&#8221; said General Griffin.</p>

<p>&#8220;The Fire Zouaves will support you,&#8221; said General Barry.</p>

<p>&#8220;It is better to have them go in advance till we come into position;
then they can fall back,&#8221; Griffin replied.</p>

<p>&#8220;No; you are to move first, those are the orders. The Zouaves are
already to follow on the double-quick.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span>&#8220;I will go; but, mark my words, they will not support me.&#8221;</p>

<p>The battery galloped over the fields, descended the hill, crossed the
ravine, advancing to the brow of the hill near Mrs. Henry&#8217;s, followed by
Rickett&#8217;s battery, the Fire Zouaves, and the Fourteenth New York. In
front of them, about forty or fifty rods distant, were the Rebel
batteries, supported by infantry. Griffin and Ricketts came into
position, and opened a fire so terrible and destructive that the Rebel
batteries and infantry were driven beyond the crest of the hill.</p>

<p>The field was almost won. Read what General Johnston says: &#8220;The long
contest against fivefold odds, and heavy losses, especially of field
officers, had greatly discouraged the troops of General Bee and Colonel
Evans. The aspect of affairs was critical.&#8221;</p>

<p>The correspondent of the Charleston Mercury writes: &#8220;When I entered on
the field at two o&#8217;clock, the fortunes of the day were dark. The
remnants of the regiments, so badly injured or wounded and worn, as they
staggered out gave gloomy pictures of the scene. We could not be routed,
perhaps, but it is doubtful whether we were destined to a victory.&#8221;</p>

<p>The correspondent of the Richmond Despatch writes: &#8220;Fighting for hours
under a hot sun, without a drop of water near, the conduct of our <span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span>men
could not be excelled; but human endurance has its bounds, <i>and all
seemed about to be lost</i>.&#8221;</p>

<p>The battle surges around the house of Mrs. Henry. She is lying there
amidst its thunders. Rebel sharpshooters take possession of it, and pick
off Rickett&#8217;s gunners. He turns his guns upon the house. Crash! crash!
crash! It is riddled with grape and canister. Sides, roof, doors, and
windows are pierced, broken, and splintered. The bed-clothes are cut
into rags, and the aged woman instantly killed. The Rebel regiments melt
away. The stream of fugitives toward Manassas grows more dense. Johnston
has had more men and more guns engaged than McDowell; but he has been
steadily driven. But Rebel reinforcements arrive from an unexpected
quarter,&mdash;General Smith&#8217;s brigade, from the Shenandoah. It comes into
action in front of Wilcox. There are from two to three thousand men.
General Smith is wounded almost at the first fire, and Colonel Elzey
takes command. General Bonham sends two regiments, the Second and Eighth
South Carolina. They keep south of Mrs. Henry&#8217;s, and march on till they
are in position to fire almost upon the backs of Griffin&#8217;s and Rickett&#8217;s
gunners. They march through a piece of woods, reach the top of the hill,
and come into line. Captain Imboden, of the Rebel battery, who is
replying to Griffin, sees them. Who are they? He thinks <span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span>they are Yankees
flanking him. He wheels his guns, and is ready to cut them down with
grape and canister. Captain Griffin sees them, and wheels his guns.
Another instant, and he will sweep them away. He believes them to be
Rebels. His gunners load with grape and canister.</p>

<p>&#8220;Do not fire upon them; they are your supports!&#8221; shouts Major Barry,
riding up.</p>

<p>&#8220;No, sir; they are Rebels.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;They are your supports, just ordered up.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;As sure as the world, they are Rebels.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;You are mistaken, Captain; they are your supports.&#8221;</p>

<p>The cannoneers stand ready to pull the lanyards, which will send a
tornado through those ranks.</p>

<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t fire!&#8221; shouts the Captain.</p>

<p>The guns are wheeled again towards Mrs. Henry&#8217;s, and the supposed
supports are saved from destruction at the hand of Captain Griffin.</p>

<p>Captain Imboden, before ordering his men to fire upon the supposed
Yankees, gallops nearer to them, to see who they are. He sees them raise
their guns. There is a flash, a rattle and roll. Griffin&#8217;s and Rickett&#8217;s
men and their horses go down in an instant! They rush on with a yell.
There is sharp, hot, decisive work. Close musket-shots and
sabre-strokes. Men are trampled beneath the struggling horses.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span>There are shouts and hurrahs. The few soldiers remaining to support
Griffin and Rickett fire at the advancing Rebel brigade, but the contest
is unequal; they are not able to hold in check the three thousand fresh
troops. They fall back. The guns are in the hands of the Rebels. The day
is lost. At the very moment of victory the line is broken. In an instant
all is changed. A moment ago we were pressing on, but now we are falling
back. Quick almost as the lightning&#8217;s flash is the turning of the tide.
All through a mistake! So great events sometimes hang on little things.</p>

<p>The unexpected volley, the sudden onset, the vigorous charge, the
falling back, produces confusion in the Union ranks. Officers and men,
generals and soldiers alike, are confounded. By a common impulse they
begin to fall back across the turnpike. Unaccountably to themselves, and
to the Rebel fugitives streaming towards Manassas, they lose strength
and heart. The falling back becomes a retreat, a sudden panic and a
rout. Regiments break and mix with others. Soldiers drop their guns and
cartridge-boxes, and rush towards the rear.</p>

<p>I had watched the tide of battle through the day. Everything was
favorable. The heat was intense, and I was thirsty. A soldier came past
with a back-load of canteens freshly filled.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i068.jpg" width="304" class="jpg2 ispace" height="400" alt="Bull Run Battle-Ground, July 21, 1861." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Bull Run Battle-Ground</span>, July 21, 1861.</span></div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="BullRun">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Stone Bridge.</td>
<td align="right">8</td>
<td align="left">Porter&#8217;s and Burnside&#8217;s brigades.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Sudley Springs.</td>
<td align="right">9</td>
<td align="left">Sherman&#8217;s and Keyes&#8217;s brigades.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Toll-gate kept by Mr. Mathey.</td>
<td align="right">10</td>
<td align="left">Griffin&#8217;s and Rickett&#8217;s batteries.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Mr. Dogan&#8217;s house.</td>
<td align="right">11</td>
<td align="left">Rebel reinforcements which fired</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Mrs. Henry&#8217;s.</td>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">upon Griffin.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">6</td>
<td align="left">Mr. Lewis&#8217;s.</td>
<td align="right">14</td>
<td align="left">Position of Rebel army when the</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">7</td>
<td align="left">Wilcox&#8217;s, Howard&#8217;s, and Franklin&#8217;s</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">Union line gave way.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">brigades.</td>
<td align="right">13</td>
<td align="left">Ridge where the battle began.</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>&#8220;Where did you find the water?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Over there in the woods, in the rear of Schenck&#8217;s brigade.&#8221;</p>

<p>I passed the brigade. Ayers&#8217;s and Carlisle&#8217;s batteries were there. I
found the spring beyond a little hillock. While drinking, there was
sudden confusion in Schenck&#8217;s brigade. There was loud talking, cannon
and musketry firing, and a sudden trampling of horses. A squadron of
Rebel cavalry swept past within a few rods of the spring, charging upon
Schenck&#8217;s brigade. The panic tide had come rolling to the rear. Ayers
lashed his horses to a gallop, to reach Cub Run bridge. He succeeded in
crossing it. He came into position to open upon the Rebels and to check
their pursuit. The road was blocked with wagons. Frightened teamsters
cut their horses loose and rode away. Soldiers, officers, and civilians
fled towards Centreville, frightened at they knew not what. Blenker&#8217;s
brigade was thrown forward from Centreville to the bridge, and the rout
was stopped. The Rebels were too much exhausted, too much amazed at the
sudden and unaccountable breaking and fleeing of McDowell&#8217;s army, to
improve the advantage. They followed to Cub Run bridge, but a few cannon
and musket shots sent them back to the Stone Bridge.</p>

<p>But at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford General Jones crossed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>the stream to attack the
retreating troops. General Davies, with four regiments and Hunt&#8217;s
battery, occupied the crest of a hill looking down towards the ford. The
Rebels marched through the woods upon the bank of the stream, wound
along the hillside, filed through a farm-yard and halted in a hollow
within a quarter of a mile of General Davies&#8217;s guns.</p>

<p><a name="blackburn" id="blackburn"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i070.jpg" class="jpg2 ispace" width="400" height="400" alt="Fight at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford, July 21, 1863." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fight at Blackburn&#8217;s Ford</span>, July 21, 1863.</span></div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="5" summary="BLACKBURN">

<tr><td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Blackburn&#8217;s Ford.</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Davies&#8217;s brigade and batteries.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Mitchell&#8217;s Ford.</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Richardson&#8217;s brigade.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Rebel troops.</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>&#8220;Lie down,&#8221; said the General, and the four regiments dropped upon the
ground. The six cannon and the gunners alone were in sight.</p>

<p>&#8220;Wait till they come over the crest of the hill; wait till I give the
word,&#8221; said the General to Captain Hunt.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>The men stand motionless by their pieces. The long column of Rebels
moves on. There is an officer on his horse giving directions. The long
dark line throws its lengthening shadows upward in the declining
sunlight, toward the silent cannon.</p>

<p>&#8220;Now let them have it!&#8221; The guns are silent no longer. Six flashes of
light, and six sulphurous clouds are belched towards the moving mass.
Grape and canister sweep them down. The officer tumbles from his horse,
and the horse staggers to the earth. There are sudden gaps in the ranks.
They stop advancing. Officers run here and there. Another merciless
storm,&mdash;another,&mdash;another. Eighteen flashes a minute from those six
pieces! Like grass before the mower the Rebel line is cut down. The men
flee to the woods, utterly routed.</p>

<p>The attempt to cut off the retreat signally failed. It was the last
attempt of the Rebels to follow up their mysterious victory. The
rear-guard remained in Centreville till morning recovering five cannon
which had been abandoned at Cub Run, which the Rebels had not secured,
and then retired to Arlington.</p>

<p>So the battle was won and lost. So the hopes of the Union soldiers
changed to sudden, unaccountable fear, and so the fear of the Rebels
became unbounded exultation.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>The sun had gone down behind the Blue Mountains, and the battle-clouds
hung thick and heavy along the winding stream where the conflict had
raged. It was a sad night to us who had gone out with such high hopes,
who had seen the victory so nearly won and so suddenly lost. Many of our
wounded were lying where they had fallen. It was a terrible night to
them. Their enemies, some of them, were hard-hearted and cruel. They
fired into the hospitals upon helpless men. They refused them water to
quench their burning thirst. They taunted them in their hour of triumph,
and heaped upon them bitterest curses. They were wild with the delirium
of success, and treated their prisoners with savage barbarity. Any one
who showed kindness to the prisoners or wounded was looked upon with
suspicion. Says an English officer in the Rebel service:&mdash;<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;I made it my duty to seek out and attend upon the wounded, and
the more so when I found that the work of alleviating their sufferings
was performed with evident reluctance and want of zeal by many of
those whose duty it was to do it. I looked upon the poor fellows only
as suffering fellow-mortals, brothers in need of help, and made no
distinction between friend and foe; nay, I must own that I was
prompted to give the preference to the latter, for the reason that
some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>of our men met with attention from their relations and
friends, who had flocked to the field in numbers to see them. But in
doing so I had to encounter opposition, and was even pointed at by
some with muttered curses as a traitor to the cause of the Confederacy
for bestowing any attention on the d&mdash;&mdash; Yankees.&#8221;</p></div>

<p>Notwithstanding the inhuman treatment they received at the hands of
their captors, there were men on that field who never quailed,&mdash;men with
patriotism so fervent, deep, and unquenchable, that they lay down
cheerfully to their death-sleep. This officer in the Rebel service went
out upon the field where the fight had been thickest. It was night.
Around him were the dying and the dead. There was a young Union officer,
with both feet crushed by a cannon-shot. There were tears upon his
cheeks.</p>

<p>&#8220;Courage, comrade!&#8221; said the officer, bending over him; &#8220;the day will
come when you will remember this battle as one of the things of the
past.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Do not give me false hopes, sir. It is all up with me. I do not grieve
that I must die, for with these stumps I shall not live long.&#8221;</p>

<p>He pointed to his mangled feet, and added: &#8220;<i>I weep for my poor,
distracted country. Had I a second life to live, I would willingly
sacrifice it for the cause of the Union!</i>&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>His eyes closed. A smile lighted his countenance, as if, while on the
border of another world, he saw once more those who were dearest on
earth or in heaven. He raised himself convulsively, and cried, &#8220;Mother!
Father!&#8221;</p>

<p>He was dead.</p>

<p>He sleeps upon the spot where he fell. His name is unknown, but his
devotion to his country shall shine forevermore like a star in heaven!</p>

<p>When the Union line gave way, some of the soldiers were so stupefied by
the sudden change that they were unable to move, and were taken
prisoners. Among them was a Zouave, in red trousers. He was a tall,
noble fellow. Although a prisoner, he walked erect, unabashed by his
captivity. A Virginian taunted him, and called him by hard names.</p>

<p>&#8220;Sir,&#8221; said the Zouave, &#8220;I have heard that yours was a nation of
gentlemen, but your insult comes from a coward and a knave. I am your
prisoner, but you have no right to fling your curses at me because I am
unfortunate. Of the two, I consider myself the gentleman.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p>

<p>The Virginian hung his head in silence, while other Rebel soldiers
assured the brave fellow that he should not again be insulted. So
bravery, true courage, and manliness will win respect even from enemies.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>No accurate reports have been made of the number of men killed and
wounded in this battle; but each side lost probably from fifteen hundred
to two thousand men.</p>

<p>It was a battle which will always have a memorable place in the history
of this Rebellion, because having won a victory, the slaveholders
believed that they could conquer the North. They became more proud and
insolent. They manifested their terrible hate by their inhuman treatment
of the prisoners captured. They gave the dead indecent burial. The Rebel
soldiers dug up the bones of the dead Union men, and carved them into
ornaments, which they sent home to their wives and sweethearts. One girl
wrote to her lover to &#8220;be sure and bring her Old Lincoln&#8217;s <i>skelp</i>&#8221;
(scalp), so that the women as well as the men became fierce in their
hatred. I have seen the letter, which was found upon a prisoner.</p>

<p>The North, although defeated, was not discouraged. There was no thought
of giving up the contest, but, as you remember, there was a great
uprising of the people, who determined that the war should go on till
the Rebellion was crushed.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>

<h3>THE CAPTURE OF FORT HENRY.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ennessee</span>
joined the Southern Confederacy, but Kentucky resisted all the
coaxing, threatening, and planning of the leaders of the Rebellion. Some
Kentuckians talked of remaining neutral, of taking no part in the great
contest; but that was not possible. The Rebels invaded the State, by
sailing up the Mississippi and taking possession of Columbus,&mdash;a town
twenty miles below the mouth of the Ohio. They also advanced from
Nashville to Bowling Green. Then the State decided for the Union,&mdash;to
stand by the old flag till the Rebellion should be crushed.</p>

<p>The Rebels erected two forts on the northern line of Tennessee. Looking
at your map, you see that the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers are near
together where they enter the State of Kentucky. They are not more than
twelve miles apart. The fort on the Tennessee River was named Fort
Henry, the one on the Cumberland, Fort Donelson. A good road was cut
through the woods between them, so that troops and supplies could be
readily <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>removed from one to the other. Fort Henry was on the eastern
bank of the Tennessee, and Fort Donelson on the western bank of the
Cumberland. They were very important places to the Rebels, for at high
water in the winter the rivers are navigable for the largest
steamboats,&mdash;the Cumberland to Nashville and the Tennessee to Florence,
in Northern Alabama,&mdash;and it would be very easy to transport an army
from the Ohio River to the very heart of the Southern Confederacy. The
forts were built to prevent any such movement of the Union troops.</p>

<p><a name="forts" id="forts"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i077.jpg" class="jpg2 ispace" width="396" height="400" alt="The Forts." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">The Forts.</span></span>
</div>

<p>The bluffs of the Mississippi River at Columbus are two hundred feet
high. There the Rebels <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>erected strong batteries, planting heavy guns,
with which they could sweep the Mississippi far up stream, and pour
plunging shots with unobstructed aim upon any descending gunboat. They
called it a Gibraltar, because of its strength. They said it could not
be taken, and that the Mississippi was closed to navigation till the
independence of the Southern Confederacy was acknowledged.</p>

<p>Early in the war it was seen that a fleet of gunboats would be needed on
the Western rivers, and Captain Andrew H. Foote of the navy was placed
in charge of their construction. They were built at Cincinnati and St.
Louis, and taken to Cairo, where they received their armament, crews,
and outfit.</p>

<p>You have heard of Cairo. I do not mean the ancient city on the banks of
the Nile, but the modern town on the tongue of land at the mouth of the
Ohio. Charles Dickens has given a description of the place in one of his
delightful books,&mdash;Martin Chuzzlewit. It was a forest, with a few
log-huts, when Mark Tapley resided there, and all the people were
smitten with fever and ague. It is a town now, with several thousand
inhabitants. In the spring the town is sometimes overflowed, and the
people navigate the streets with boats and rafts. Pigs look out of the
chamber windows, and dogs, cats, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>chickens live on the roofs of
houses at such times.</p>

<p>Let us take a look at the place as it appeared the first day of
February, 1862. Stand with me on the levee, and look up the broad
Ohio,&mdash;the &#8220;la belle rivi&egrave;re,&#8221; as the French called it. There are from
fifty to a hundred steamboats lying along the bank, with volumes of
black smoke rolling up from their tall chimneys, and puffs of steam
vanishing in the air. Among them are the gunboats,&mdash;a cross between a
floating fort, a dredging-machine, and a mud-scow. The sailors, who have
been tossed upon the ocean in stately ships, call them mud-<i>turkles</i>.
There are thousands of soldiers on the steamboats and on the shore,
waiting for the sailing of the expedition which is to make an opening in
the line of Rebel defences. There are thousands of people busy as bees,
loading and unloading the steamboats, rolling barrels and boxes.</p>

<p>When Mark Tapley and Martin Chuzzlewit were here it was muddy, and it is
muddy now. There is fine, thin, sticky, slimy, splashy, thick, heavy,
dirty mud. Thousands of men and thousands of mules and horses are
treading it to mortar. It is mixed with slops from the houses and straw
from the stables. You are reminded of the Slough of Despond described by
Bunyan in the Pilgrim&#8217;s Progress,&mdash;a place for all the filth, sin, and
slime <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>of this world. Christian was mired there, and Pliable nearly lost
his life. If Bunyan had seen Cairo, he might have made the picture still
more graphic. There are old houses, shanties, sheds, stables, pig-sties,
wood-piles, carts, wagons, barrels, boxes, and all the old things you
can imagine. Pigs live in the streets, and there are irrepressible
conflicts between them and the hundreds of dogs. Water-carts, drays,
army-wagons, and artillery go hub deep in the mud. Horses tug and
strive, rear, kick, and flounder. Teamsters lose their footing. Soldiers
wade leg deep in the street. There are sidewalks, but they are slippery,
dangerous, and deceptive.</p>

<p>It is Sunday. A sweet day of rest in peaceful times, but in war there is
not much observance of the Sabbath. It is midwinter, but a south-wind
sweeps up the Mississippi, so mild and balmy that the blue-birds and
robins are out. The steamboats are crowded with troops, who are waiting
for orders to sail, they know not where. Groups stand upon the topmost
deck. Some lie at full length in the warm sunshine. The bands are
playing, the drums beating. Tug-boats are dancing, wheezing, and puffing
in the stream, flitting from gunboat to gunboat.</p>

<p>The shops are open, and the soldiers are purchasing
knickknacks,&mdash;tobacco, pipes, paper, and pens, to send letters to loved
ones far away. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>At a gingerbread stall, a half-dozen are taking a lunch. The
oyster-saloons are crowded. Boys are crying their newspapers. There are
laughable and solemn scenes. Yonder is the hospital. A file of soldiers
stand waiting in the street. A coffin is brought out. The fife begins
its mournful air, the drum its muffled beat. The procession moves away,
bearing the dead soldier to his silent home.</p>

<p>A few months ago he was a citizen, cultivating his farm upon the
prairies, ploughing, sowing, reaping. But now the great reaper, Death,
has gathered him in. He had no thought of being a soldier; but he was a
patriot, and when his country called him he sprang to her aid. He
yielded to disease, but not to the enemy. He was far from home and
friends, with none but strangers to minister to his wants, to comfort
him, to tell him of a better world than this. He gave his life to his
country.</p>

<p>Although there is the busy note of preparation for the sailing of the
fleet, there are some who remember that it is Sunday, and who find time
to worship. The church-bells toll the hour. You tuck your pants into
your boots, and pick your way along the slippery, slimy streets. There
are a few ladies who brave the mud, wearing boots suited to the walking.
Boots which have not been blacked for a fortnight are just as shiny as
those cleaned but an hour ago. At the door of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>church you do as
everybody else does,&mdash;take a chip and scrape off the mud.</p>

<p>Half of the congregation are from the army and navy. Commodore Foote is
there, a devout worshipper. Before coming to church he visited each
gunboat of his fleet, called the crews together, read to them his
general orders, that no unnecessary work should be done on the Sabbath,
and enjoining upon the commanders the duty of having worship, and of
maintaining a high moral character before the men.</p>

<p>Let us on Monday accept the kind invitation of Commodore Foote, and go
on board the Benton, his flag-ship, and make an inspection of the
strange-looking craft. It is unlike anything you ever saw at Boston or
New York. It is like a great box on a raft. The sides are inclined, made
of stout oak timbers and plated with iron. You enter through a porthole,
where you may lay your hand upon the iron lips of a great gun, which
throws a ball nine inches in diameter. There are fourteen guns, with
stout oaken carriages. The men are moving about, exercising the
guns,&mdash;going through the motions of loading and firing. How clean the
floor! It is as white as soap and sand can make it. You must not spit
tobacco-juice here, if you do, the courteous officer will say you are
violating the rules. In the centre of the boat, down beneath the
gun-deck in the hull, are the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>engines and the boilers, partly protected
from any shot which may happen to come in at a porthole, or which may
tear through the sides,&mdash;through the iron and the oak. Near the centre
is the wheel. The top of the box, or the <i>casemate</i>, as it is called, is
of oak timbers, and forms the upper deck. The pilot-house is on this
upper deck, forward of the centre. In shape it is like a tunnel turned
down. It is plated with thick iron. There, in the hour of battle, the
pilot will be, peeping out through narrow holes, his hands grasping the
wheel and steering the vessel.</p>

<p>Its guns, which the sailors call its battery, are very powerful. There
are two nine-inch guns, and also two sixty-four-pounders, rifled, at the
bow. There are two forty-two-pounders at the stern, and those upon the
side are thirty-twos and twenty-fours. There are rooms for the officers,
but the men sleep in hammocks. They take their meals sitting on the
gun-carriages, or cross-legged, like Turks, on the floor.</p>

<p>Captain Foote is the Commodore of the fleet. He points out to you the
<i>Sacred Place</i> of the ship,&mdash;a secluded corner, where any one of the
crew who loves to read his Bible and hold secret devotion may do so, and
not be disturbed. He has given a library of good books to the crew, and
he has persuaded them that it will be better for them to give up their
allowance of grog than to drink <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>it. He walks among the men, and has a
kind word for all, and they look upon him as their father. They have
confidence in him. How lustily they cheer him! Will they not fight
bravely under such a commander?</p>

<hr class="medium" />

<p>On Monday afternoon, February 2d, the gunboats Cincinnati, Essex, St.
Louis, Carondelet, Lexington, Tyler, and Conestoga sailed from Cairo,
accompanied by several river steamboats with ten regiments of troops.
They went up the Ohio to Paducah, and entered the Tennessee River at
dark. The next morning, about daylight, they anchored a few miles below
Fort Henry. Commodore Foote made the Cincinnati his flag-ship.</p>

<p>A party of scouts went on shore and called at a farm-house. &#8220;You never
will take Fort Henry,&#8221; said the woman living there.</p>

<p>&#8220;O yes, we shall; we have a fleet of iron-clad gunboats,&#8221; said one of
the scouts.</p>

<p>&#8220;Your gunboats will be blown sky-high before they get up to the fort.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Ah! how so?&#8221;</p>

<p>The woman saw that she was letting out a secret, and became silent. The
scouts mistrusted that she knew something which might be desirable for
them to know, and informed her that, unless she told all she knew, she
must go with them a prisoner. She was frightened, and informed them <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>that
the river was full of torpedoes, which would blow up the gunboats.</p>

<p>The scouts reported to Commodore Foote. The river was searched with
grappling-irons, and six infernal machines were fished up; but they were
imperfectly constructed, and not one of them would explode.</p>

<p>Looking up the river from the deck of one of Commodore Foote&#8217;s gunboats
you see Panther Island, which is a mile from the fort. It is a long,
narrow sand-bank, covered with a thicket of willows. There is the fort
on the eastern bank. You see an irregular pile of earth, about fifteen
feet above the river, with sand-bag embrasures, which at first sight you
think are blocks of stone, but they are grain-sacks filled with sand.
You count the guns, seventeen in all. One ten-inch columbiad, one
sixty-pounder, twelve thirty-two-pounders, one twenty-four-pounder, and
two twelve-pounders. They are nearly all pivoted, so that they may be
pointed down the river against the boats or inland upon the troops. The
river is nearly a half-mile wide, and on the opposite bank is another
fort, not yet completed. All around Fort Henry you see rifle-pits and
breastworks, enclosing twenty or thirty acres. Above and below the fort
are creeks. The tall trees are cut down to obstruct the way, or to form
an <i>abatis</i>, as it is called. It will not be an easy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>matter to take the
fort from the land side. Inside these intrenchments is the Rebel
camp,&mdash;log-huts and tents, with accommodations for several thousand men.</p>

<p>Commodore Foote has planned how to take the fort. He is confident that
he can shell the Rebels out just as you can pound rats from a barrel or
a box, and if General Grant will get in rear and watch his opportunity,
they will all be caught.</p>

<p>General Grant lands two brigades of troops on the west side of the
river, and three brigades on the east side, about four miles below the
fort. Those on the west side are to look after any Rebels which may be
in or around the unfinished fort, while those upon the east side, under
General McClernand, work their way through the woods to gain the rear of
the fort. This is the order to General McClernand:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;It will be the special duty of this command to prevent all
reinforcements of Fort Henry or escape from it. Also to be held in
readiness to charge and take Fort Henry by storm, promptly on receipt of
orders.&#8221;</p></div>

<p>General Grant and Commodore Foote agreed that the gunboats should
commence the attack at twelve o&#8217;clock.</p>

<p>&#8220;I shall take the fort in about an hour,&#8221; said the Commodore. &#8220;I shall
commence firing when I reach the head of Panther Island, and it will
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>take me about an hour to reach the fort, for I shall steam up slowly. I
am afraid, General, that the roads are so bad the troops will not get
round in season to capture the enemy. I shall take the fort before you
get into position.&#8221;</p>

<p>General Grant thought otherwise; but the roads were very muddy, and when
the engagement commenced the troops were far from where they ought to
have been.</p>

<p>Commodore Foote had prepared his instructions to the officers and crews
of the gunboats several days before. They were brief and plain.</p>

<p>&#8220;The four iron-clad boats&mdash;the Essex, Carondelet, St. Louis, and
Cincinnati&mdash;will keep in line. The Conestoga, Lexington, and Tyler will
follow the iron-clads, and throw shells over those in advance.&#8221;</p>

<p>To the commanders he said:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;<i>Do just as I do!</i>&#8221;</p>

<p>Addressing the crews, he said:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;Fire slowly, and with deliberate aim. There are three reasons why you
should not fire rapidly. With rapid firing there is always a waste of
ammunition. Your range is imperfect, and your shots go wide of the mark,
and that encourages the enemy; and it is desirable not to heat the guns.
If you fire slowly and deliberately, you will keep cool yourselves, and
make every shot tell.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>With such instructions, with all things ready,&mdash;decks cleared for
action, guns run out, shot and shell brought up from the magazines and
piled on deck,&mdash;confident of success, and determined to take the fort or
go to the bottom, he waited the appointed hour.</p>

<p>The gunboats steam up slowly against the current, that the troops may
have time to get into position in rear of the Rebel intrenchments. They
take the channel on the west side of the island. The Essex is on the
right of the battle line, nearest the island. Her Commander is William
D. Porter, who comes from good stock. It was his father who commanded
the Essex in the war with Great Britain in 1813, and who fought most
gallantly a superior force,&mdash;two British ships, the Phebe and
Cherub,&mdash;in the harbor of Valparaiso.</p>

<p>Next the Essex is the Carondelet, then the Cincinnati,&mdash;the flag-ship,
with the brave Commodore on board,&mdash;and nearest the western shore the
St. Louis. These are all iron-plated at the bows. Astern is the
Lexington, the Conestoga, and the Tyler.</p>

<p>The boats reach the head of the island, and the fort is in full view. It
is thirty-four minutes past twelve o&#8217;clock. There is a flash, and a
great creamy cloud of smoke at the bow of the Cincinnati. An eight-inch
shell screams through the air. The gunners watch its course. Their practised eyes follow its
almost viewless flight. Your <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81-2]</a></span>watch ticks fifteen seconds before you hear
from it. You see a puff of smoke, a cloud of sand thrown up in the fort,
and then hear the explosion. The commanders of the other boats remember
the instructions,&mdash;&#8220;Do just as I do!&#8221;&mdash;and from each vessel a shell is
thrown. All fall within the fort, or in the encampment beyond, which is
in sight. You can see the tents, the log-huts, the tall flagstaff. The
fort accepts the challenge, and instantly the twelve guns which are in
position to sweep the river open upon the advancing boats. The shot and
shell plough furrows in the stream, and throw columns of water high in
air.</p>

<p><a name="forthenry" id="forthenry"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 298px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i089.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="298" height="400" alt="Fort Henry." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fort Henry.</span></span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="4" summary="BullRun">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Essex.</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Lexington.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Carondelet.</td>
<td align="right">6</td>
<td align="left">Conestoga.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Cincinnati.</td>
<td align="right">7</td>
<td align="left"> Tyler.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">St. Louis.</td>
<td align="right">8 &amp; 9</td>
<td align="left">Rebel intrenchment.</td></tr></table></div></div>

<p>Another round from the fleet. Another from the fort. The air is calm,
and the thunder of the cannonade rolls along the valley, reverberating
from hill to hill. Louder and deeper and heavier is the booming, till it
becomes almost an unbroken peal.</p>

<p>There is a commotion in the Rebel encampment. Men run to and fro. They
curl down behind the stumps and the fallen trees, to avoid the shot.
Their huts are blown to pieces by the shells. You see the logs tossed
like straws into the air. Their tents are torn into paper-rags. The
hissing shells sink deep into the earth, and then there are sudden
upheavals of sand, with smoke and flames, as if volcanoes were bursting
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>forth. The parapet is cut through. Sand-bags are knocked about. The air
is full of strange, hideous, mysterious, terrifying noises.</p>

<p>There are seven or eight thousand Rebel soldiers in the rifle-pits and
behind the breastworks of the encampment in line of battle. They are
terror-stricken. Officers and men alike lose all self-control. They run
to escape the fearful storm. They leave arms, ammunition, tents,
blankets, trunks, clothes, books, letters, papers,
pictures,&mdash;everything. They pour out of the intrenchments into the road
leading to Dover, a motley rabble. A small steamboat lies in the creek
above the fort. Some rush on board and steam up river with the utmost
speed. Others, in their haste and fear, plunge into the creek and sink
to rise no more. All fly except a brave little band in the fort.</p>

<p>The gunboats move straight on, slowly and steadily. Their fire is
regular and deliberate. Every shot goes into the fort. The gunners are
blinded and smothered by clouds of sand. The gun-carriages are crushed,
splintered, and overturned. Men are cut to pieces. Something unseen
tears them like a thunderbolt. The fort is full of explosions. The heavy
rifled gun bursts, crushing and killing those who serve it. The
flagstaff is splintered and torn, as by intensest lightning.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Yet the fort replies. The gunners have the range of the boats, and
nearly every shot strikes the iron plating. They are like the strokes of
sledge-hammers, indenting the sheets, starting the fastenings, breaking
the tough bolts. The Cincinnati receives thirty-one shots, the Essex
fifteen, the St. Louis seven, and the Carondelet six.</p>

<p>Though struck so often, they move on. The distance lessens. Another gun
is knocked from its carriage in the fort,&mdash;another,&mdash;another. There are
signs that the contest is about over, that the Rebels are ready to
surrender. But a shot strikes the Essex between the iron plates. It
tears through the oaken timbers and into one of the steam-boilers. There
is a great puff of steam. It pours from the portholes, and the boat is
enveloped in a cloud. She drops out of the line of battle. Her engines
stop and she floats with the stream. Twenty-eight of her crew are
scalded, among them her brave commander.</p>

<p>The Rebels take courage. They spring to their guns, and fire rapidly and
wildly, hoping and expecting to disable the rest of the fleet. But the
Commodore does not falter; he keeps straight on as if nothing had
happened. An eighty-pound shell from the Cincinnati dismounts a gun,
killing or wounding every gunner. The boats are so near that every shot
is sure to do its work. The fire of the boats increases <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>while the fire
of the fort diminishes. Coolness, determination, energy, perseverance,
and power win the day. The Rebel flag comes down, and the white flag
goes up. They surrender. Cheers ring through the fleet. A boat puts out
from the St. Louis. An officer jumps ashore, climbs the torn embankment,
stands upon the parapet and waves the Stars and Stripes. &#8220;Hurrah!
hurrah! hurrah!&#8221; You hear it echoing from shore to shore.</p>

<p>General Lloyd Tilghman commanded in the fort. He went on board the
flag-ship.</p>

<p>&#8220;What terms do you grant me?&#8221; he asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;Your surrender must be unconditional, sir. I can grant you no other
terms.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Well, sir, if I must surrender, it gives me pleasure to surrender to so
brave an officer as you.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;You do perfectly right to surrender, sir; but I should not have done it
on any condition.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Why so? I do not understand you.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Because I was fully determined to capture the fort or go to the
bottom.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;I thought I had you, Commodore, but you were too much for me.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;How could you fight against the old flag, General?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Well, it did come hard at first; but if the North had only let us
alone, there would have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>been no trouble. They would not abide by the
Constitution.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;You are mistaken, General, and the whole South is mistaken. The North
have always been willing that the South should have all her rights,
under the Constitution. The South began the war, and she will be
responsible for the blood which has been shed to-day.&#8221;</p>

<p>Thus, in an hour and twelve minutes, the fort which the Rebels
confidently expected would prevent the gunboats from ascending the river
was forced to surrender, and there was unobstructed water communication
to the very heart of the Southern Confederacy. Their line of defence was
broken.</p>

<p>There was but little loss of life in this engagement,&mdash;twenty to thirty
killed and wounded on each side. If the Rebel army had not fled almost
at the first fire, there would have been terrible slaughter. When
Commodore Foote was informed that there were several thousand troops in
the fortifications, said he, &#8220;I am sorry for it, because if they stand
their ground there will be great destruction of life from the heavy
shells; for I shall take the fort or sink with the ships.&#8221;</p>

<p>If the troops under General Grant had been in position to have
intercepted the Rebel force, the whole panic-stricken crowd would have
been captured, but being delayed by the mud, the fleet-footed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>Rebels
were far on their way towards Fort Donelson when General Grant reached
the rear of the intrenchments. In their haste and terror the Rebels
abandoned nine pieces of field artillery on the road, and a large supply
of ammunition.</p>

<p>The battle was fought on Thursday. On Friday Commodore Foote returned to
Cairo, to send his despatches to Washington, also to repair his gunboats
and to see that the poor scalded men on the Essex were well taken care
of.</p>

<p>I was writing, at Cairo, the account of the battle. It was past midnight
when the Commodore came to my room. He sat down, and told me what I have
written of his plan of the battle, and his talk with General Tilghman.
He could not sit still. He was weary and exhausted with his labors. &#8220;I
am afraid, Commodore, that you have overworked. You must have rest and
sleep,&#8221; I remarked.</p>

<p>&#8220;Yes, I have been obliged to work pretty hard, and need rest, but I
never slept better in my life than night before last, and I never prayed
more fervently than on yesterday morning before going into the battle;
but I couldn&#8217;t sleep last night for thinking of those poor fellows on
board the Essex,&#8221; was the reply.</p>

<p>On Sunday morning he was at church as usual. The minister was late. The
people thought there would be no meeting, and were about to leave <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>the
house. Commodore Foote went to one of the Elders of the church, and
urged him to conduct the worship. The Elder declined. But the Commodore
never let slip an opportunity for doing good. He was always ready to
serve his country and his God. He went into the pulpit, read a chapter,
offered a prayer, and preached a short sermon from the words,&mdash;&#8220;Let not
your hearts be troubled. Ye believe in God; believe also in me.&#8221; It was
an exhortation for all men to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as the
Saviour of the world. Some who heard him, as they went home from church,
said that they also believed in Commodore Foote!</p>

<p>To him belongs the credit not only of taking Fort Henry, but of planning
the expedition. When the true history of this Rebellion is written, you
will see how important a thing it was, how great its results, and you
will admire more and more the sterling patriotism and unswerving
Christian principles of a man who struck this first great blow, and did
so much towards crushing the Rebellion.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>

<h3>THE CAPTURE OF FORT DONELSON.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">G</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">eneral</span>
Grant&#8217;s plan for taking Fort Donelson was, to move the first and
second divisions of his army across the country, and attack the fort in
the rear, while another division, accompanied by the gunboats, should go
up the Cumberland and attack the fort from that direction. Commodore
Foote informed the General that it was necessary to repair the gunboats
which had been injured before commencing operations; but General Grant
determined to make no delay on that account. Without fully perfecting
his arrangements, or calculating the time needed for the steamboats to
go from Fort Henry down to the Ohio and up the Cumberland, he ordered
the two divisions to march. General Lewis Wallace was left at Fort Henry
with a brigade, while six regiments of his division, the third, were
embarked on the steamboats, which sailed down the Tennessee in fine
style, turning back other boats, and all proceeded up the Cumberland.</p>

<p>There are steep hills, sandy plains, deep ravines, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>trickling brooks, and
grand old forest-trees between Fort Henry and Fort Donelson. The road
winds along the hillsides, over the plains, and descends into the
ravines. There are but few farm-houses, for the soil is unproductive and
the forests remain almost as they have been for hundreds of years. The
few farmers who reside there live mainly on hog and hominy. They
cultivate a few acres of corn, but keep a great many pigs, which live in
the woods and fatten upon acorns and hickory-nuts.</p>

<p>The regiments which marched to Fort Donelson bivouacked the first night
beside a stream of water about four miles from Fort Henry. They had no
tents. They had been in barracks at Cairo through December and January,
but now they must lie upon the ground, wrapped in their blankets. The
nights were cold, and the ground was frozen. They cut down the tall
trees and kindled great fires, which roared and crackled in the frosty
air. They scraped the dead leaves into heaps and made them beds. They
saw the pigs in the woods. Crack! crack! went their rifles, and they had
roast sparerib and pork-steaks,&mdash;delicious eating to hungry men. The
forest was all aglow with the hundreds of fires. The men told stories,
toasted their toes, looked into the glowing coals, thought perhaps of
home, of the dear ones there, then wrapped their blankets about them and
went <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>to sleep. Out towards Fort Donelson the pickets stood at their
posts and looked into the darkness, watching for the enemy through the
long winter night. But no Rebels appeared. They had been badly
frightened at Fort Henry. They had recovered from their terror, however,
and had determined to make a brave stand at Fort Donelson. They had been
reinforced by a large body of troops from General Albert Sidney
Johnston&#8217;s army at Bowling Green, in Kentucky, and from General Lee&#8217;s
army in Virginia.</p>

<p>General Grant&#8217;s two divisions, which marched across the country,
numbered about fifteen thousand. There were four brigades in the first
division,&mdash;Colonel Oglesby&#8217;s, Colonel W. H. L. Wallace&#8217;s, Colonel
McArthur&#8217;s, and Colonel Morrison&#8217;s. Colonel Oglesby had the Eighth,
Eighteenth, Twenty-ninth, Thirtieth, and Thirty-first Illinois
regiments. Colonel Wallace&#8217;s was composed of the Eleventh, Twentieth,
Forty-fifth, and Forty-eighth Illinois regiments. In Colonel McArthur&#8217;s
were the Second, Ninth, Twelfth, and Forty-first Illinois, and in
Colonel Morrison&#8217;s the Seventeenth and Forty-ninth Illinois regiments.</p>

<p>Schwartz&#8217;s, Taylor&#8217;s, Dresser&#8217;s, and McAllister&#8217;s batteries accompanied
this division.</p>

<p>There were three brigades in the second division. The first, under the
command of Colonel <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>Cook, was composed of the Seventh Illinois, Twelfth
Iowa, Thirteenth Missouri, and Fifty-second Indiana.</p>

<p>Colonel Lauman commanded the second brigade, composed of the Second,
Seventh, Fourteenth, and Twenty-eighth Iowa regiments, the Fifty-second
Indiana, and Colonel Birges&#8217;s regiment of sharpshooters.</p>

<p>The third brigade, commanded by Colonel Morgan L. Smith, was composed of
the Eighth Missouri and Eleventh Indiana.</p>

<p>Major Cavender&#8217;s regiment of Missouri artillery was attached to this
division, composed of three full batteries,&mdash;Captain Richardson&#8217;s,
Captain Stone&#8217;s, and Captain Walker&#8217;s.</p>

<p>The Fourth Illinois cavalry and three or four companies of cavalry were
distributed among the brigades.</p>

<p>Colonel Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters were picked men, who had killed many
bears, deer, and wolves in the Western woods. They could take unerring
aim, and bring down a squirrel from the top of the highest trees. They
wore gray uniforms of felt, with close-fitting skull-caps, and
buffalo-skin knapsacks, and a powder-horn. They were swift runners. Each
man carried a whistle. They had signal-calls for advancing, or
retreating, or moving to the right or the left. They glided through the
forests like fleet-footed deer, or crept as stealthily <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>as an Indian
along the ravines and through the thickets. They were tough, hearty,
daring, courageous men. They thought it no great hardship to march all
day, and lie down beside a log at night without supper. They wanted no
better fun than to creep through the underbrush and pick off the Rebels,
whirling in an instant upon their backs after firing a shot, to reload
their rifles. Although attached to Lauman&#8217;s brigade, they were expected
in battle to go where they could do the most service.</p>

<p>As you go up the Cumberland River, and approach the town of Dover, you
see a high hill on the west bank. It is crowned with an embankment of
earth, which runs all round the top with many angles. At the foot of the
hill are two other embankments, fifteen or twenty feet above the water.
There are seventeen heavy guns in these works. Two of them throw long
bolts of iron, weighing one hundred and twenty-eight pounds, but most of
the guns are thirty-two-pounders.</p>

<p>If you go into the batteries and into the fort, and run your eye along
the guns, you will see that all of them can be aimed at a gunboat in the
river. They all point straight down stream, and a concentrated fire can
be poured upon a single boat. The river makes a bend as it approaches
the batteries, so that the boats will be exposed on their bows and
sides.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>A mile above the fort you see the little village of Dover. Beyond the
village a creek comes in. It is high water, and the creek is too deep to
be forded.</p>

<p>On the south side of the hill, beyond the fort, between the fort and the
village, are log-huts, where the Rebel troops have been encamped through
the winter. A stream of clear running water comes down from the hills
west of the village, where you may fill your canteen.</p>

<p>Going up the hill into the fort, and out to its northwest angle, you see
that the fortifications which the Rebels have thrown up consist of three
distinct parts,&mdash;the fort and the water-batteries, a line of breastworks
west of the village, called field-works, and a line of rifle-pits
outside of the field-works. You begin at the northwest angle of the
fort, face to the southwest, and walk along the field-work which is on
the top of a sharp ridge. The embankment is about four feet high. There
are a great many angles, with embrasures for cannon. You look west from
these embrasures, and see that the ground is much broken. There are
hills and hollows, thick brush and tall trees. In some places the trees
have been cut down to form an <i>abatis</i>, an obstruction, the limbs lopped
off and interlocked.</p>

<p>As you walk on, you come to the Fort Henry and Dover road. Crossing
that, instead of walking <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95-6]</a></span>southwest, you make a gradual turn towards the southeast, and come to
another road, which leads from Dover southwest towards Clarksville and
Nashville. Crossing that, you come to the creek which empties into the
Cumberland just above the town. The distance from the creek back to the
fort, along the line of breastworks, is nearly two miles. Going back
once more to the northwest angle of the fort, you see that the slope of
the hill is very steep outside the works. You go down the slope,
planting your feet into the earth to keep from tumbling headlong. When
you reach the bottom of the ravine you do not find a level piece of
ground, but ascend another ridge. It is not as high as the ridge along
which you have travelled to take a view of the works. The slope of this
outer ridge runs down to a meadow. The Rebels have cut down the tall
trees, and made a line of rifle-pits. The logs are piled one above
another, as the backwoodsman builds a log-fence. There is a space five
or six inches wide between the upper log and the one below it. They have
dug a trench behind, and the dirt is thrown outside.</p>

<p><a name="fortdonelson" id="fortdonelson"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 346px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i103.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="346" height="400" alt="Fort Donelson." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fort Donelson.</span></span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1" summary="DONELSON">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">The Fort.</td>
<td align="right">7</td>
<td align="left">General McClernand&#8217;s division.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Field-works.</td>
<td align="right">8</td>
<td align="left">General Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">8 Rifle-pits.</td>
<td align="right">9</td>
<td align="left">General Smith&#8217;s division.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Town of Dover.</td>
<td align="right">10</td>
<td align="left">General Grant&#8217;s Head-quarters.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Log-huts.</td>
<td align="right">11</td>
<td align="left">Gunboats.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">6</td>
<td align="left">Water-batteries.</td>
<td align="right">12</td>
<td align="left">Light Creek.</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>The Rebel riflemen can lie in the trench, and fire through the space
between the logs upon the Union troops if they attempt to advance upon
the works. You look down this outer slope. It is twenty rods to the
bottom, and it is covered with fallen trees. You think it almost
impossible to climb over such a hedge and such obstructions. You see a
cleared field at the base of the hill, and a farm-house beyond the
field, on the Fort Henry road, which is General Grant&#8217;s head-quarters.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>The whole country is broken into hills, knolls, and ridges. It reminds
you of the waves you have seen on the ocean or on the lakes in a storm.</p>

<p>General Floyd, who was Secretary of War under Buchanan, and who stole
all the public property he could lay his hands on while in office,
commanded the Rebel forces. He arrived on the 13th. General Pillow and
Brigadier-General Johnson were placed in command of the troops on the
Rebel left wing west of the town. General Buckner commanded those in the
vicinity of the fort. General Floyd had the Third, Tenth, Eighteenth,
Twenty-sixth, Thirtieth, Thirty-second, Forty-first, Forty-second,
Forty-Eighth, Forty-ninth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first, and Fifty-third
regiments of Tennessee troops, the Second and Eighth Kentucky, the
First, Third, Fourth, Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-sixth
Mississippi regiments, the Seventh Texas, Fifteenth and Twenty-seventh
Alabama, the Thirty-sixth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first, and Fifty-sixth
Virginia, also two battalions of Tennessee infantry, and a brigade of
cavalry. He had Murray&#8217;s, Porter&#8217;s, Graves&#8217;s, Maney&#8217;s, Jackson&#8217;s, Guy&#8217;s,
Ross&#8217;s, and Green&#8217;s batteries, in all about twenty-three thousand men,
with forty-eight pieces of field artillery, and seventeen heavy guns in
the fort and water-batteries.</p>

<p>General Grant knew but little of the ground, or <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>the fortifications, or
of the Rebel forces, but he pushed boldly on.</p>

<p>On the morning of the 12th the troops left their bivouac, where they had
enjoyed their roast spareribs and steaks, and marched towards the fort.
The cavalry swept the country, riding through the side roads and
foot-paths, reconnoitring the ground, and searching for Rebel pickets.</p>

<p>Soon after noon they came in sight of the Rebel encampments. The ground
was thoroughly examined. No Rebels were found outside the works, but
upon the hills within the intrenchments dark masses of men could be
seen, some busily at work with axes and shovels. Regiments were taking
positions for the expected attack; but it was already evening, and the
advancing army rested for the night.</p>

<p><a name="thursday" id="thursday"></a></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">Thursday.</span></h4>

<p>The night had been cold, but on the morning of the 13th there were
breezes from the southwest, so mild and warm that the spring birds came.
The soldiers thought that the winter was over. The sky was cloudless.
All the signs promised a pleasant day. The troops were early
awake,&mdash;replenishing the fading fires, and cooking breakfasts. With the
dawn the sharpshooters and pickets began their work. There was a
rattling musket-fire in the ravines.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>Before the sun rose the Rebel batteries began throwing shells across the
ravines and hills, aiming at the camp-fires of Colonel Oglesby&#8217;s
brigade. Instantly the camp was astir. The men fell into line with a
hurrah, the cannoneers sprang to their guns, all waiting for the orders.</p>

<p>The clear, running brook which empties into the Cumberland between Dover
and Fort Donelson winds through a wide valley. It divides the Rebel
field-works into two parts,&mdash;those west of the town and those west of
the fort. The road from Fort Henry to Dover crosses the valley in a
southeast direction. As you go towards the town, you see at your left
hand, on the hill, through the branches of the trees, the Rebel
breastworks, and you are almost within musket-shot.</p>

<p>General McClernand moved his division down the Dover road, while General
Smith remained opposite the northwest angle of the fort. Oglesby&#8217;s
brigade had the advance, followed by nearly all of the division. The
batteries moved along the road, but the troops marched through the woods
west of the road. The artillery came into position on the hills about a
half-mile from the breastworks, and opened fire,&mdash;Taylor, Schwartz, and
Dresser west of the town, and Cavender, with his heavy guns, west of the
fort.</p>

<p>The Rebel batteries began a furious fire. Their shells were excellently
aimed. One struck almost <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>at the feet of Major Cavender as he was
sighting a gun, but it did not disturb him. He took deliberate aim, and
sent shell after shell whizzing into the fort. Another shot fell just in
rear of his battery. A third burst overhead. Another struck one of
Captain Richardson&#8217;s men in the breast, whirling him into the air,
killing him instantly.</p>

<p>Major Cavender moved his pieces, and then returned the fire with greater
zeal. Through the forenoon the forests echoed the terrific cannonade,
mingled with the sharp crack of the riflemen, close under the
breastworks.</p>

<p>At noon the infantry fight began. West of the town, in addition to the
line of rifle-pits and breastworks, the Rebels had thrown up a small
redoubt, behind which their batteries were securely posted. General
McClernand decided to attack it. He ordered Colonel Wallace to direct
the assault. The Forty-eighth, Seventeenth, and Forty-ninth Illinois
regiments were detached from the main force, and placed under the
command of Colonel Hayne, of the Forty-eighth, for a storming party.
McAllister&#8217;s battery was wheeled into position to cover the attack.</p>

<p>They form in line at the base of the hill. The shells from the Rebel
batteries crash among the trees. The Rebel riflemen keep up a rattling
fire from the thickets. The troops are fresh from the prairies. This is
their first battle, but at the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>word of command they advance across the
intervening hollows and ascend the height, facing the sheets of flame
which burst from the Rebel works. They fire as they advance. It is not a
rush and a hurrah, but a steady movement. Men begin to drop from the
line, but there is no wavering. They who never before heard the sounds
of battle stand like veterans. The Rebel line in front of them extends
farther than their own. The Forty-fifth Illinois goes to the support of
Wallace. The Rebels throw forward reinforcements. There is a continuous
roll of musketry, and quick discharges of cannon. The attacking force
advances nearer and still nearer, close up to the works. Their gallantry
does not fail them; their courage does not falter; but they find an
impassable obstruction,&mdash;fallen trees, piles of brush, and rows of sharp
stakes. Taylor&#8217;s battery gallops up the road, and opens a rapid fire,
but the Rebel sharpshooters pick off his gunners. It is madness to
remain, and the force retires beyond the reach of the Rebel musketry;
but they are not disheartened. They have hardly begun to fight.</p>

<p>Colonel Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters are sent for. They move down through the
bushes, and creep up in front of the Rebel lines. There are jets of
flame and wreaths of blue smoke from their rifles. The Rebel pickets are
driven back. The sharpshooters work their way still nearer to the
trenches. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>The bushes blaze. There are mysterious puffs of smoke from the
hollows, from stumps, and from the roots of trees. The Rebel gunners are
compelled to let their guns remain silent, and the infantry dare not
show their heads above the breastworks. They lie close. A Rebel soldier
raises his slouched hat on his ramrod. Birges&#8217;s men see it, just over
the parapet. Whiz! The hat disappears. The Rebels chuckle that they have
outwitted the Yankee.</p>

<p>&#8220;Why don&#8217;t you come out of your old fort?&#8221; shouts a sharpshooter, lying
close behind a tree.</p>

<p>&#8220;Why don&#8217;t you come in?&#8221; is the answer from the breastworks.</p>

<p>&#8220;O, you are cowards!&#8221; says the voice at the stump.</p>

<p>&#8220;When are you going to take the fort?&#8221; is the response from the
breastwork.</p>

<p>The cannonade lasted till night. Nothing had been gained, but much had
been lost, by the Union army. There were scores of men lying in the
thickets, where they had fallen. There were hundreds in the hospitals.
The gunboats and the expected reinforcements had not arrived. The Rebels
outnumbered General Grant&#8217;s force by several thousand, but fortunately
they did not know it. General Grant&#8217;s provisions were almost gone. There
was no meat, nothing but hard bread. The south-wind of the morning had
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>changed to the east. It was mild then, but piercing now. The sky, so
golden at the dawn, was dark and lowering, with clouds rolling up from
the east. The rain began to fall. The roads were miry, the dead leaves
slippery. The men had thrown aside their overcoats and blankets. They
had no shelter, no protection. They were weary and exhausted with the
contest. They were cold, wet, and hungry. The rain increased. The wind
blew more furiously. It wailed through the forest. The rain changed to
hail. The men lay down upon frozen beds, and were covered with icy
sheets. It grew colder. The hail became snow. The wind increased to a
gale, and whirled the snow into drifts. The soldiers curled down behind
the stumps and fallen trees. They built great fires. They walked, ran,
thumped their feet upon the frozen ground, beat their fingers till the
blood seemed starting from beneath the nails. The thermometer sank
almost to zero. It was a night of horror, not only outside, but inside
the Rebel lines. The Southern soldiers were kept in the intrenchments,
in the rifle-pits, and ditches, to be in readiness to repel an assault.
They could not keep up great, roaring fires, for fear of inviting a
night attack. Through the long hours the soldiers of both armies kept
their positions, exposed to the fury of the winter storm, not only the
severest <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>storm of the season, but the wildest and coldest that had been
known for many years in that section of the country.</p>

<p><a name="friday" id="friday"></a></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">Friday.</span></h4>

<p>Friday morning dawned, and with the first rays of light the rifles
cracked in the frosty air. The sharpshooters, though they had passed a
sleepless night, were in their places behind rocks and stumps and trees.
Neither army was ready to recommence the struggle. General Grant was out
of provisions. The transports, with supplies and reinforcements, had not
arrived. Only one gunboat, the Carondelet, had come.</p>

<p>It was a critical hour. What if the Rebels, with their superior force,
should march out from their intrenchments and make an attack? How long
could the half-frozen, exhausted, hungry men maintain their ground?
Where were the gunboats? Where the transports? Where the reinforcements?
There were no dark columns of smoke rising above the forest-trees,
indicating the approach of the belated fleet.</p>

<p>General Grant grew anxious. Orders were despatched to General Wallace at
Fort Henry to hasten over with his troops. There was no thought of
giving up the enterprise.</p>

<p>&#8220;We came here to take the fort, and we intend to do it,&#8221; said Colonel
Oglesby.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>A courier came dashing through the woods. He had been on the watch three
miles down the river, looking for the gunboats. He had descried a dense
cloud of black smoke in the distance, and started with the welcome
intelligence. They were coming. The Carondelet, which had been lying
quietly in the stream below the fort, steamed up against the current,
and tossed a shell towards the Rebels. The deep boom of the columbiad
echoed over the hills of Tennessee. The troops answered with a cheer
from the depths of the forest. They could see the trailing black banners
of smoke from the steamer. They became light-hearted. The wounded lying
in the hospitals, stiff, sore, mangled, their wounds undressed, chilled,
frozen, covered with ice and snow, forgot their sufferings. So the fire
of patriotism burned within their hearts, which could not be quenched by
sufferings worse than death itself.</p>

<p>The provisions, troops, and artillery were landed at a farm, three miles
below the fort. A road was cut through the woods, and communication
opened with the army.</p>

<p>A division was organized under General Lewis Wallace. Colonel Cruft
commanded the first brigade, composed of the Thirty-first and
Forty-fourth Indiana, the Seventeenth and Twenty-fifth Kentucky
regiments.</p>

<p>The second brigade was composed of the Forty-sixth, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>Fifty-seventh, and
Fifty-eighth Illinois regiments. It had no brigade commander, and was
united to the third brigade, commanded by Colonel Thayer. The third
brigade was composed of the First Nebraska, the Sixteenth, Fifty-eighth,
and Sixty-eighth Ohio regiments. Several other regiments arrived while
the fight was going on, but they were held in reserve, and had but
little if any part in the action.</p>

<p>Wallace&#8217;s division was placed between General Smith&#8217;s and General
McClernand&#8217;s, near General Grant&#8217;s head-quarters, on the road leading
from Fort Henry to Dover. It took all day to get the troops into
position and distribute food and ammunition, and there was no fighting
except by the skirmishers and sharpshooters.</p>

<p>At three o&#8217;clock in the afternoon the gunboats steamed slowly up stream
to attack the water-batteries. Commodore Foote repeated the instructions
to the commanders and crews that he made before the attack at Fort
Henry,&mdash;to fire slow, take deliberate aim, and keep cool.</p>

<p>The Pittsburg, St. Louis, Louisville, and Carondelet, iron-plated boats,
had the advance, followed by the three wooden boats,&mdash;the Tyler,
Lexington, and Conestoga. A bend in the river exposed the sides of the
gunboats to a raking fire from the batteries, while Commodore Foote
could only use the bow guns in reply. The fort on the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>hill was so high
above the boats that the muzzles of the guns could not be elevated far
enough to hit it. Commodore Foote directed the boats to engage the
water-batteries, and pay no attention to the guns of the fort till the
batteries were silenced; then he would steam past them and pour
broadsides into the fort.</p>

<p>As soon as the gunboats rounded the point of land a mile and a half
below the fort, the Rebels opened fire, and the boats replied. There was
excellent gunnery. The shots from the fort and batteries fell upon the
bows of the boats, or raked their sides; while the shells from the boats
fell plump into the batteries, cutting the embankments, or sinking deep
in the side of the hill and bursting with tremendous explosions,
throwing the earth upon the gunners in the trenches. Steadily onward
moved the boats, pouring all their shells into the lower works. It was a
continuous storm,&mdash;an unbroken roll of thunder. There were constant
explosions in the Rebel trenches. The air was filled with pieces of iron
from the exploding shells and lumps of frozen earth thrown up by the
solid shot. The Rebels fled in confusion from the four-gun battery,
running up the hill to the intrenchments above.</p>

<p>The fight had lasted an hour, and the boats were within five hundred
feet of the batteries; fifteen minutes more and the Commodore would <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>be
abreast of them, and would rake them from bottom to top with his
tremendous broadsides. But he had reached the bend of the river; the
eight-gun battery could cut him through crosswise, while the guns on the
top of the hill could pour plunging shots upon his decks. The Rebels saw
their advantage, and worked their guns with all their might. The boats
were so near that every Rebel shot reached its mark. A solid shot cut
the rudder-chains of the Carondelet and she became unmanageable. The
thirty-two-pound balls went through the oak sides of the boats as you
can throw peas through wet paper. Another shot splintered the helm of
the Pittsburg, and that boat also became unmanageable. A third shot
crashed through the pilot-house of the St. Louis, killing the pilot
instantly. The Commodore stood by his side, and was sprinkled with the
blood of the brave, unfortunate man. The shot broke the wheel and
knocked down a timber which wounded the Commodore in the foot. He sprang
to the deck, limped to another steering apparatus, and endeavored with
his own hands to keep the vessel head to the stream; but that apparatus
also had been shot away. Sixty-one shots had struck the St. Louis; some
had passed through from stem to stern. The Louisville had received
thirty-five shots. Twenty-six had crashed into and through the
Carondelet. One <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>of her guns had burst, killing and wounding six of the
crew. The Pittsburg had been struck twenty-one times. All but the
Louisville, of the iron-plated boats, were unmanageable. At the very
last moment&mdash;when the difficulties had been almost overcome&mdash;the
Commodore was obliged to hoist the signal for retiring. Ten minutes
more,&mdash;five hundred feet more,&mdash;and the Rebel trenches would have been
swept from right to left, their entire length. When the boats began to
drift down the stream they were running from the trenches, deserting
their guns, to escape the fearful storm of grape and canister which they
knew would soon sweep over them. Fifty-four were killed and wounded in
this attack.</p>

<p>At night Commodore Foote sat in the cabin of the St. Louis and wrote a
letter to a friend. His wound was painful, but he thought not of his own
sufferings. He frequently asked how the wounded men were getting along,
and directed the surgeons to do everything possible for their comfort.
This is what he wrote to his friend:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;While I hope ever to rely on Him who controls all things, and to say
from my heart, &#8216;Not unto us, but unto thee, O Lord, belongs the glory,&#8217;
yet I feel bad at the result of our attack on Fort Donelson. To see
brave officers and men, who say they will go where I lead them, fall by
my side, it makes me sad to lead them to almost certain death.&#8221;</p></div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>So passed Friday. The gunboats were disabled. No impression had been
made on the fort. General Grant determined to place his army in position
on the hills surrounding the fort, throw up intrenchments, and wait till
the gunboats could be repaired. Then there would be a combined attack,
by water and by land, which he hoped would reduce the place.</p>

<p>On Friday evening there was a council of war at General Floyd&#8217;s
head-quarters in the town. General Buckner, General Johnson, General
Pillow, Colonel Baldwin, Colonel Wharton, and other commanders of
brigades were present. General Floyd said that he was satisfied that
General Grant would not renew the attack till the gunboats were
repaired, and till he had received reinforcements. He thought that the
whole available force of Union troops would be hurried up by steamboat
from St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Cairo; and that when they arrived a
division would be marched up the river towards Clarksville, above Dover,
and that they in the fort would be starved out and forced to surrender
without a battle. It was very good and correct reasoning on the part of
General Floyd, who did not care to be taken prisoner after he had stolen
so much public property. It was just what General Grant intended to do.
He knew that by such a course the fort would be obliged to surrender,
and he would save the lives of his men.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>General Floyd proposed to attack General Grant at daylight on Saturday
morning, by throwing one half of the Rebel army, under Pillow and
Johnson, upon McClernand&#8217;s division. By making the attack then in
overwhelming force, he felt pretty sure he could drive McClernand back
upon General Wallace. General Buckner, with the other half of the army,
was to push out from the northwest angle of the fort at the same time,
attack General Wallace, and force him back upon General McClernand,
which would throw the Union troops into confusion. By adopting this plan
he hoped to win a victory, or if not that, he could open a way of escape
to the whole army. The plan was agreed to by the other officers, and
preparations were made for the attack. The soldiers received extra
rations and a large quantity of ammunition. The caissons of the
artillery were filled up, and the regiments placed in position to move
early in the morning.</p>

<p><a name="saturday" id="saturday"></a></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">Saturday.</span></h4>

<p>General B. R. Johnson led the Rebel column, and Colonel Baldwin&#8217;s
brigade the advance. It was composed of the First and Fourteenth
Mississippi and the Twenty-sixth Tennessee regiments. The next brigade
was Colonel Wharton&#8217;s. It was composed of the Fiftieth and Fifty-first
Virginia. McCousland&#8217;s brigade was composed of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>the Thirty-sixth and
Fifty-sixth Virginia; Davidson&#8217;s brigade was composed of the Seventh
Texas, Eighth Kentucky, and Third Mississippi; Colonel Drake&#8217;s brigade
was composed of the Fourth and Twentieth Mississippi, Garven&#8217;s battalion
of riflemen, Fifteenth Arkansas, and a Tennessee regiment. Hieman&#8217;s
brigade was composed of the Tenth, Thirtieth, and Forty-eighth
Tennessee, and the Twenty-seventh Alabama. There were about thirty
pieces of artillery, and twelve thousand men in this column.</p>

<p>McArthur&#8217;s brigade of McClernand&#8217;s division was on the extreme right,
and a short distance in rear of Oglesby. The Rebels moved down the Union
Ferry road, which leads southwest towards Clarksville, which brought
them nearly south of Oglesby and McArthur. Oglesby&#8217;s regiments stood,
the Eighth Illinois on the right, then the Twenty-ninth, Thirtieth, and
Thirty-first, counting towards the left. Schwartz&#8217;s battery was on the
right and Dresser&#8217;s on the left. Wallace&#8217;s brigade was formed with the
Thirty-first Illinois on the right, close to Oglesby&#8217;s left flank
regiment, then the Twentieth, Forty-eighth, Forty-fifth, Forty-ninth,
and Seventeenth Illinois. McAllister&#8217;s battery was between the Eleventh
and Twentieth, and Taylor&#8217;s between the Seventeenth and Forty-ninth.
Colonel Dickey&#8217;s cavalry was in rear, his horses picketed in the woods
and eating corn. North of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>the Fort Henry road was Colonel Cruft&#8217;s
brigade of General Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division, the Twenty-fifth Kentucky
having the right, then the Thirty-first Indiana, the Seventeenth
Kentucky, the Forty-fourth Indiana, with Wood&#8217;s battery.</p>

<p>These are all the regiments which took part in the terrible fight of
Saturday forenoon. They were unprepared for the assault. The soldiers
had not risen from their snowy beds. The reveille was just sounding when
the sharp crack of the rifles was heard in the thickets on the extreme
right. Then the artillery opened. Schwartz&#8217;s, Dresser&#8217;s, McAllister&#8217;s,
and Taylor&#8217;s men sprang from their blankets to their guns. It was hardly
light enough to see the enemy. They could only distinguish the flashes
of the guns and the wreaths of smoke through the branches of the trees;
but they aimed at the flashes, and sent their shells upon the advancing
columns.</p>

<p>The Rebel batteries replied, and the wild uproar of the terrible day
began.</p>

<p>Instead of moving west, directly upon the front of Oglesby, McArthur,
and Wallace, the Rebel column under Pillow marched down the Union Ferry
road south a half-mile, then turned abruptly towards the northwest. You
see by the accompanying diagram how the troops stood at the beginning of
the battle. There is McArthur&#8217;s brigade with Schwartz&#8217;s battery,
Oglesby&#8217;s brigade <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>with Dresser&#8217;s battery, Wallace&#8217;s brigade with
McAllister&#8217;s and Taylor&#8217;s batteries,&mdash;all facing the town. Across the
brook, upon the north side of the ravine, is Cruft&#8217;s brigade. You see
Pillow&#8217;s brigades wheeling upon McArthur and Oglesby, and across the
Fort Henry road, coming down from the breastworks, are General Buckner&#8217;s
brigades.</p>

<p><a name="mcclernand" id="mcclernand"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i122.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="406" height="400" alt="The Attack on McClernand." title="" />
<span class="caption">The Attack on McClernand.</span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1" summary="MCCLERNAND">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">McArthur&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Cruft&#8217;s brigade.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Oglesby&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Pillow&#8217;s divisions.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">W. H. L. Wallace&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">6</td>
<td align="left">Buckner&#8217;s divisions.</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>Schwartz, Dresser, and McAllister wheel their guns towards Pillow&#8217;s
column. The Rebels open with a volley of musketry. The fire is aimed at
the Eighth and Twenty-ninth Illinois regiments, which, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>you remember, are
on the right of Oglesby&#8217;s brigade. The men are cold. They have sprung
from their icy beds to take their places in the ranks. They have a scant
supply of ammunition, and are unprepared for the assault, but they are
not the men to run at the first fire. The Rebel musketry begins to thin
their ranks, but they do not flinch. They send their volleys into the
face of the enemy.</p>

<p>Another Rebel brigade arrives, and fires upon the Thirtieth and
Thirty-first Illinois,&mdash;the two regiments on the left of Oglesby&#8217;s
brigade. Colonel John A. Logan commands the Thirty-first. He told the
Southern conspirators in Congress, when they were about to secede from
the Union, that the men of the Northwest would hew their way to the Gulf
of Mexico with their swords, if they attempted to close the Mississippi.
He is not disposed to yield his ground. He encourages his men, and they
remain immovable before the Rebel brigades. Instead of falling back, he
swings his regiment towards the Rebels, and stands confronting them.</p>

<p>But while this is going on, the Rebel cavalry have moved round to the
rear of McArthur. They dash down a ravine, through the bushes, over the
fallen trees, and charge up the hill upon the Ninth and Eighteenth
regiments of McArthur&#8217;s brigade. They are sent back in confusion, but
the onset has <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>been so fierce and the charge so far in the rear, that
McArthur is compelled to fall back and form a new line. The Rebels have
begun to open the door which General Grant had closed against them. The
brigades in front of Oglesby are pouring murderous volleys upon the
Eighth and Twenty-ninth. The falling back of McArthur to meet the attack
on his rear has enabled the enemy to come up behind these regiments, and
they are also compelled to fall back.</p>

<p>The Rebels in front are elated. They move nearer, working their way
along a ravine, sheltered by a ridge of land. They load their muskets,
rush up to the crest of the hill, deliver their fire, and step back to
reload; but as often as they appear, McAllister and Dresser and Taylor
give them grape and canister.</p>

<p>The Eleventh and Twentieth Illinois, on the right of Wallace&#8217;s brigade,
join in the conflict, supporting the brave Logan. Colonel Wallace swings
the Forty-eighth, Forty-fifth, and half of the Forty-ninth round towards
Pillow&#8217;s brigades, leaving the other half of the Forty-ninth and the
Seventeenth to hold the line towards the Fort Henry road. If you study
the diagram carefully, you will see that this man&oelig;uvre was a change
of front. At the beginning the line of battle faced northeast, but now
it faces south.</p>

<p>There is a ridge between Wallace&#8217;s brigade and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>the Rebels. As often as
the Rebels advance to the ridge, Taylor and McAllister with the infantry
drive them back. It is an obstinate and bloody contest. The snow becomes
crimson. There are pools of clotted blood where the brave men lie down
upon the ground. There are bayonet-charges, fierce hand-to-hand
contests. The Rebels rush upon McAllister&#8217;s guns, but are turned back.
The lines surge to and fro like the waves of the sea. The dying and the
dead are trampled beneath the feet of the contending hosts.</p>

<p>Wallace hears a sharp fire in his rear. The Rebels have pushed out once
more towards the west and are coming in again upon the right flank of
the new battle line. McClernand sees that he is contending against
overwhelming numbers, and he sends a messenger in haste to General Lewis
Wallace, who sends Cruft&#8217;s brigade to his assistance. The brigade goes
down the road upon the run. The soldiers shout and hurrah. They pass in
rear of Taylor&#8217;s battery, and push on to the right to help Oglesby and
McArthur.</p>

<p>The Rebels have driven those brigades. The men are hastening to the rear
with doleful stories. Some of them rush through Cruft&#8217;s brigade. Cruft
meets the advancing Rebels face to face. The din of battle has lulled
for a moment, but now it rolls again louder than before. The Rebels dash
on, but it is like the dashing of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>waves against a rock. Cruft&#8217;s men
are unmoved, though the Rebels advance till they are within twenty feet
of the line. There are deafening volleys. The smoke from the opposing
lines becomes a single cloud. The Rebels are held in check on the right
by their firmness and endurance.</p>

<p>But just at this moment General Buckner&#8217;s brigades come out of their
intrenchments. They pass in front of their rifle-pits at the base of the
hill, and march rapidly down to the Dover road. Colonel Wallace sees
them. In a few minutes they will pour their volleys into the backs of
his men. You remember that the Seventeenth and part of the Forty-ninth
Illinois regiments were left standing near the road. You hear from their
muskets now. They stand their ground and meet the onset manfully. Two
guns of Taylor&#8217;s battery, which have been thundering towards the south,
wheel round to the northeast and sweep the Rebels with grape and
canister.</p>

<p>Three fourths of the Rebel army is pressing upon McClernand&#8217;s one
division. His troops are disappearing. Hundreds are killed and wounded.
Men who carry the wounded to rear do not return. The Rebels see their
advantage, and charge upon Schwartz&#8217;s and McAllister&#8217;s batteries, but
are repulsed. Reinforced by new regiments, they rush on again. They
shoot the gunners and the horses <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>and seize the cannon. The struggle is
fierce, but unequal. Oglesby&#8217;s men are overpowered, the line gives way.
The Rebels push on with a yell, and seize several of Schwartz&#8217;s and
McAllister&#8217;s guns. The gunners fight determinedly for a moment, but they
are few against many, and are shot or taken prisoners. A Mississippi
regiment attempts to capture Taylor&#8217;s guns, but he sweeps it back with
grape and canister.</p>

<p>Up to this moment Wallace has not yielded an inch. Two of Oglesby&#8217;s
regiments next to his brigade still hold their ground, but all who stood
beyond are in full retreat. The Rebels have picked off a score of brave
officers in Oglesby&#8217;s command,&mdash;Colonels Logan, Lawler, and Ransom are
wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel White of the Thirty-first,
Lieutenant-Colonel Smith of the Forty-eighth, Lieutenant-Colonel Irvin
of the Twentieth, and Major Post of the Eighth are killed. The men of
Oglesby&#8217;s brigade, although they have lost so many of their leaders, are
not panic-stricken. They are overpowered for the moment. Some of the
regiments are out of ammunition. They know that reinforcements are at
hand, and they fall back in order.</p>

<p>To understand Wallace&#8217;s position at this stage of the battle, imagine
that you stand with your face towards the south fighting a powerful
antagonist, that a second equally powerful is coming up <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>on your right
hand, and that a third is giving heavy blows upon your left shoulder,
almost in your back. Pillow, with one half of his brigades, is in front,
Johnson, with the other half of Pillow&#8217;s command, is coming up on the
right, and Buckner, with all of his brigades, is moving down upon the
left.</p>

<p>Wallace sees that he must retreat. The Eleventh and
Thirty-first&mdash;Ransom&#8217;s and Logan&#8217;s regiments&mdash;are still fighting on
Wallace&#8217;s right. There is great slaughter in their ranks, but they do
not flee. They change front and march a few rods to the rear, come into
line and fire a volley at the advancing Rebels. Forest&#8217;s cavalry dashes
upon them and cuts off a few prisoners, but the line is only bruised,
not broken. Thus loading and firing, contesting all the ground, the
troops descend the hill, cross the clear running brook, and march up the
hill upon the other side.</p>

<p>But there are some frightened men, who fling away their guns and rush
wildly to the rear. An officer dashes down the road, crying: &#8220;We are cut
to pieces! The day is lost!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Shut up your head, you scoundrel!&#8221; shouts General Wallace.</p>

<p>It has had an effect upon his troops. They are nervous, and look round,
expecting to see the enemy in overwhelming numbers. General Wallace sees
that there has been disaster. He does not wait for orders to march.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>&#8220;Third brigade, by the right flank, double-quick, Forward, March!&#8221;
Colonel Thayer commanding the brigade repeats the order. The men break
into a run towards the front along the road. General Wallace gallops in
advance, and meets Colonel Wallace conducting his brigade to the rear.</p>

<p>&#8220;We are out of ammunition. The enemy are following. If you will put your
troops into line till we can fill our cartridge-boxes, we will stop
them.&#8221; He says it so coolly and deliberately that it astonishes General
Wallace. It reassures him. He feels that it is a critical moment, but
with men retiring so deliberately, there is no reason to be discouraged.</p>

<p>He leads Thayer&#8217;s brigade up to the crest of the hill, just where the
road begins to descend into the ravine, through which gurgles the clear
running brook.</p>

<p>&#8220;Bring up Company A, Chicago Light Artillery!&#8221; he shouts to an aid. A
few moments, and Captain Wood, who commands the battery, leads it along
the road. The horses are upon the gallop. The teamsters lash them with
their whips. They leap over logs, stones, stumps, and through the
bushes. They halt at the crest of the hill.</p>

<p>&#8220;Put your guns here, two pieces in the road, and two on each side, and
load with grape and canister.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>The men spring to their pieces. They throw off their coats, and work in
their shirt-sleeves. They ram home the cartridges and stand beside their
pieces, waiting for the enemy.</p>

<p>The battery faces southeast. On the right of the battery, next to it, is
the First Nebraska, and beyond it the Fifty-eighth Illinois. On the left
of the battery is Captain Davison&#8217;s company of the Thirty-second
Illinois, and beyond it the Fifty-eighth Ohio. A few rods in rear is the
Seventy-sixth Ohio and the Forty-sixth and Fifty-seventh Illinois.</p>

<p>McArthur, Oglesby, Wallace, and Cruft have all fallen back, and their
regiments are reforming in the woods west of Thayer&#8217;s position, and
filling their cartridge-boxes.</p>

<p>The Rebels halt a little while upon the ground from which they have
driven McClernand, rifling the pockets of the dead and robbing the
wounded. General Pillow feels very well. He writes a despatch, which is
telegraphed to Nashville,&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;On the honor of a soldier, the day is ours!&#8221;</div>

<p>Buckner unites his brigades to Pillow&#8217;s, and they prepare for a second
advance. It gives General Wallace time to perfect his line. Willard&#8217;s
battery, which was left at Fort Henry, has just arrived. It gallops into
position in the woods west of Thayer&#8217;s brigade. Dresser and Taylor also
come into position. They are ready.</p>

<p>The Rebels descend the hill on the east side <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>of the brook, and move up
the road. They are flushed with success, and are confident of defeating
General Grant. General Floyd has changed his mind; instead of escaping,
as he can do by the road leading to Nashville, he thinks he will put the
army of General Grant to rout.</p>

<p><a name="second" id="second"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 451px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i131.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="451" height="400" alt="The Second Engagement" title="" />
<span class="caption">The Second Engagement.</span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1" summary="SECOND">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Thayer&#8217;s brigade with Wood&#8217;s battery.</td>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Cruft&#8217;s brigade.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">McClernand&#8217;s brigades.</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Rebels.</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>The advancing columns step across the brook, and begin to ascend the
hill. The artillery opens its fire. The Rebel batteries reply. The
infantry rolls its volleys. The hill and the hollow are enveloped in
clouds of smoke. Wood&#8217;s, Dresser&#8217;s, Willard&#8217;s, and Taylor&#8217;s batteries
open,&mdash;twenty-four guns send their grape and canister, shrapnel and
shells, into the gray ranks which are vainly endeavoring to reach the
top of the hill. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>The Rebels concentrate their fire upon Wood&#8217;s battery
and the First Nebraska, but those hardy pioneers from beyond the
Missouri, some of them Rocky Mountain hunters, cannot be driven. The
Rebels fire too high. The air is filled with the screaming of their
bullets, and a wild storm sweeps over the heads of the men from
Nebraska, who lose but ten men killed and wounded in this terrible
contest. The Nebraska men are old hunters, and do not fire at random,
but take deliberate aim.</p>

<p>The Rebels march half-way up the hill, and then fall back to the brook.
They have lost courage. Their officers rally the wavering lines. Again
they advance, but are forced back by the musketry and the grape and
canister.</p>

<p>They break in confusion, and vain are all the attempts of the officers
to rally them. General Floyd&#8217;s plan, which worked so successfully in the
morning, has failed at noon. General Pillow&#8217;s telegram was sent too soon
by a half-hour. The Rebels retire to the hill, and help themselves to
the overcoats, blankets, beef, bread, and other things in McClernand&#8217;s
camp.</p>

<p>General Grant determined to assault the enemy&#8217;s works. He thought that
the rifle-pits at the northwest angle of the fort could be carried; that
then he could plant his batteries so near that, under their fire, he
could get into the fort. General <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>Smith&#8217;s division had not been engaged
in the battles of the morning. His troops had heard the roar of the
conflict and the cheers of their comrades when the Rebels were beaten
back.</p>

<p>They were ready for action. They were nerved up to attempt great deeds
for their country. The Rebels had been repulsed, and now they could
defeat them.</p>

<p>General Grant directed General Wallace to move forward from his
position, across the brook, drive the Rebels back, and then assault
their works. A large body of Rebels still held the ground, from which
McClernand had been driven.</p>

<p>General Wallace placed Colonel Morgan L. Smith&#8217;s brigade in front. There
was contention between the Eighth Missouri and Eleventh Indiana, for
each wanted the honor of leading the assault. The Eleventh yielded to
the Eighth, with the understanding that in the next assault it should
have the advance. Thus with generous rivalry and unbounded enthusiasm
they prepared to advance.</p>

<p>The Eleventh followed the Eighth. Colonel Cruft&#8217;s brigade, with two Ohio
regiments under Colonel Ross, completed the column. Colonel Cruft formed
in line of battle to the right of Colonel Smith. They crossed the brook.
It was a dark and bloody ravine. The Rebel dead and wounded were lying
there, thick almost as the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>withered forest-leaves. The snow was crimson.
The brook was no longer a clear running stream, but red with blood.</p>

<p>General Wallace was aware of the desperate character of the enterprise.
He told his men what they were to do,&mdash;to drive the enemy, and storm the
breastworks.</p>

<p>&#8220;Hurrah! that&#8217;s just what we want to do. Forward! Forward! We are
ready!&#8221; were their answers. They could see the Rebel lines on the hill.
The Rebels knew that they were to be attacked, and were ready to receive
them.</p>

<p>Colonel Smith moved up the road. His point of attack was clear, but
Cruft&#8217;s was through brush and over stony ground. A line of skirmishers
sprang out from the Eighth Missouri. They ran up the hill, and came face
to face with the Rebel skirmishers.</p>

<p>They fought from tree to tree, firing, picking off an opponent, then
falling upon the ground to reload.</p>

<p>The regiments followed. They were half-way up the hill, when a line of
fire began to run round the crest.</p>

<p>&#8220;Down! down!&#8221; shouted Colonel Smith. The regiments fell flat, and the
storm swept harmlessly over their heads. The Rebels cheered. They
thought they had annihilated Colonel Smith&#8217;s command. Up they rose, and
rushed upon the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>enemy, pouring in their volleys, falling when the fight
was hottest, rising as soon as the Rebels had fired. Thus they closed
upon the enemy, and pushed him back over all the ground he had won in
the morning, driving him into his works.</p>

<p>General Wallace was preparing to assault the works, when an officer
dashed down the line with cheering news of success upon the left.</p>

<p>Returning now to General Smith&#8217;s division, we see him preparing to storm
the works near the northwest angle of the fort. Colonel Cook&#8217;s brigade
is directed to make a feint of attacking the fort. Major Cavender brings
his heavy guns into position, and opens a furious cannonade, under cover
of which Colonel Lauman is to advance upon the rifle-pits on the outer
ridge. If he can get possession of those, Cavender can plant his guns
there and rake the inner trenches.</p>

<p>Colonel Hanson&#8217;s brigade,&mdash;the Second Kentucky, Twentieth Mississippi,
and Thirtieth Tennessee, are in the rifle-pits. There are six pieces of
artillery and another brigade behind the inner intrenchments, all ready
to pour their fire upon the advancing columns. Colonel Hanson&#8217;s men lie
secure behind the trunks of the great forest oaks, their rifles thrust
through between the logs. It is fifteen or twenty rods to the bottom of
the slope, and there you find the fallen trees, with their branches
interlocked, and sharp stakes driven <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>into the ground. Beyond is the
meadow where Lauman forms his brigade. The Rebels have a clear sweep of
all the ground.</p>

<p>General Smith leads Lauman&#8217;s men to the meadow, while Colonel Cook moves
up on the left and commences the attack. The soldiers hear, far down on
the right, Wallace&#8217;s brigades driving the enemy from the hill.</p>

<p><a name="laumanbrigade" id="laumanbrigade"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i136.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="349" height="400" alt="The Charge of Lauman&#8217;s Brigade." title="" />
<span class="caption">The Charge of Lauman&#8217;s Brigade.</span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1" summary="Lauman">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Lauman&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Rebel rifle-pits.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Cook&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Rebel inner works.</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Cavender&#8217;s batteries, with infantry.</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>It is almost sunset. The rays of light fall aslant the meadow, upon the
backs of Lauman&#8217;s men, and into the faces of the Rebels. The advancing
brigade is in solid column of regiments, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>the Second Iowa in front, then
the Twenty-fifth Indiana, the Seventh and Fourteenth Iowa,&mdash;four firm,
unwavering lines, which throw their shadows forward as they advance.
Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters, with their unerring rifles, are flung out on
each flank.</p>

<p>The brigade halts upon the meadow. General Smith rides along the line,
and informs them that they are to take the rifle-pits with the bayonet
alone. He sits firmly on his horse, and his long gray hair, falling
almost to his shoulders, waves in the evening breeze. He is an iron man,
and he leads iron men. The Rebel cannon cut them through with solid
shot, shells burst above and around them, with loud explosions and
terrifying shrieks from the flying fragments, men drop from the ranks,
or are whirled into the air torn and mangled. There are sudden gaps, but
not a man flinches. They look not towards the rear, but towards the
front. There are the fallen trees, the hill, the line of two thousand
muskets poised between the logs, the cannon thundering from the height
beyond. There is no whispering in those solid ranks, no loud talking,
nothing but the &#8220;Steady! steady!&#8221; of the officers. Their hearts beat
great throbs. Their nerves are steel, their muscles iron. They grasp
their muskets with the grip of tigers. Before them rides their General,
his cap upon his sword, his long hair <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>streaming like a banner in the
wind. The color-bearer, waving the stars and stripes, marches by his
side.</p>

<p>They move across the meadow. All around them is the deafening roar of
the conflict. Cavender is behind them, Cook is upon their left, the
enemy is in front, and Wallace away upon their right. They reach the
fallen trees at the foot of the hill. The pile of logs above them bursts
into flame. A deadly storm, more terrible than the fiercest winter
blast, sweeps down the slope into their faces. There are lightning
flashes and thunderbolts from the hill above. Men drop from their
places, to lie forever still among the tangled branches. But their
surviving comrades do not falter. On,&mdash;on,&mdash;creeping, crawling, climbing
over the obstructions, unterrified, undaunted, with all the energy of
life centred in one effort; like a tornado they sweep up the
slope,&mdash;into the line of fire, into the hissing storm, up to the logs,
into the cloud, leaping like tigers, thrusting the bayonet home upon the
foe. The Rebels reel, stagger, tumble, run!</p>

<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Hurra&mdash;&mdash;h!</span>&#8221;</p>

<p>It is a wild, prolonged, triumphant shout, like the blast of a trumpet.
They plant their banners on the works, and fire their volleys into the
retreating foe. Stone&#8217;s battery gallops over the meadow, over the logs,
up the hill, the horses <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>leaping and plunging as if they, too, knew that
victory was hanging in the scale. The gunners spring from their seats,
wheel their pieces and throw their shells, an enfilading fire, into the
upper works.</p>

<p>&#8220;Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!&#8221; rings through the forest, down the line to
Wallace&#8217;s men.</p>

<p>&#8220;We have carried the works!&#8221; &#8220;We are inside!&#8221; shouts an officer bearing
the welcome news.</p>

<p>The men toss their caps in the air. They shake hands, they shout, and
break into singing. They forget all their hardships and sufferings, the
hungry days, the horrible nights, the wounded and the dead. The success
is worth all the sacrifice.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>

<h3>THE SURRENDER.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">A</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ll</span>
through the night the brave men held the ground they had so nobly
won. They rested on snowy beds. They had no supper. They could kindle no
fires to warm the wintry air. The cannon above them hurled down shells,
and sent volleys of grape, which screamed above and around them like the
voices of demons in the darkness. The branches of the trees were torn
from their trunks by the solid shot, and the trunks were splintered from
top to bottom, but they did not falter or retire from that slope where
the snow was crimsoned with the life-blood of hundreds of their
comrades. Nearly four hundred had fallen in that attack. The hill had
cost a great deal of blood, but it was worth all it cost, and they would
not give it up. So they braved the leaden rain and iron hail through the
weary hours of that winter night. They only waited for daybreak to storm
the inner works and take the fort. Their ardor and enthusiasm was
unbounded.</p>

<p>As the morning approached they heard a bugle-call. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>They looked across
the narrow ravine, and saw, in the dim light of the dawn, a man waving a
white flag upon the intrenchments. It was a sign for a parley. He jumped
down from the embankment, and descended the hill.</p>

<p>&#8220;Halt! Who comes there?&#8221; shouted the picket.</p>

<p>&#8220;Flag of truce with a letter for General Grant.&#8221;</p>

<p>An officer took the letter, and hastened down the slope, across the
meadow, up to the house on the Dover road, where General Grant had his
head-quarters.</p>

<p>During the night there had been a council of war at General Floyd&#8217;s
head-quarters. Nearly all the Rebel officers commanding brigades and
regiments were there. They were down-hearted. They had fought bravely,
won a victory, as they thought, but had lost it. A Rebel officer who was
there told me what they said. General Floyd and General Pillow blamed
General Buckner for not advancing earlier in the morning, and for making
what they thought a feeble attack. They could have escaped after they
drove McClernand across the brook, but now they were hemmed in. The
prospect was gloomy. The troops were exhausted by the long conflict, by
constant watching, and by the cold. What bitter nights those were to the
men who came from Texas, Alabama, and Mississippi, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>where the roses bloom
and the blue-birds sing through all the winter months.</p>

<p>What should be done? Should they make another attack, and cut their way
out, or should they surrender?</p>

<p>&#8220;I cannot hold my position a half-hour. The Yankees can turn my flank or
advance directly upon the breastworks,&#8221; said General Buckner.</p>

<p>&#8220;If you had advanced at the time agreed upon, and made a more vigorous
attack, we should have routed the enemy,&#8221; said General Floyd.</p>

<p>&#8220;I advanced as soon as I could, and my troops fought as bravely as
others,&#8221; was the response from General Buckner,&mdash;a middle-aged,
medium-sized man. His hair is iron gray. He has thin whiskers and a
moustache, and wears a gray kersey overcoat, with a great cape, and gold
lace on the sleeves, and a black hat with a nodding black plume.</p>

<p>&#8220;Well, here we are, and it is useless to renew the attack with any hope
of success. The men are exhausted,&#8221; said General Floyd,&mdash;a stout, heavy
man, with thick lips, a large nose, evil eyes, and coarse features.</p>

<p>&#8220;We can cut our way out,&#8221; said Major Brown, commanding the Twentieth
Mississippi,&mdash;a tall, black-haired, impetuous, fiery man.</p>

<p>&#8220;Some of us might escape in that way, but the attempt would be attended
with great slaughter,&#8221; responded General Floyd.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>&#8220;My troops are so worn out and cut to pieces and demoralized, that I
can&#8217;t make another fight,&#8221; said Buckner.</p>

<p>&#8220;My troops will fight till they die,&#8221; answered Major Brown, setting his
teeth together.</p>

<p>&#8220;It will cost the command three quarters of its present number to cut
its way through, and it is wrong to sacrifice three quarters of a
command to save the other quarter,&#8221; Buckner continued.</p>

<p>&#8220;No officer has a right to cause such a sacrifice,&#8221; said Major Gilmer,
of General Pillow&#8217;s staff.</p>

<p>&#8220;But we can hold out another day, and by that time we can get steamboats
here to take us across the river,&#8221; said General Pillow.</p>

<p>&#8220;No, I can&#8217;t hold my position a half-hour, and the Yankees will renew
the attack at daybreak,&#8221; Buckner replied.</p>

<p>&#8220;Then we have got to surrender, for aught I see,&#8221; said an officer.</p>

<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t surrender the command, neither will I be taken prisoner,&#8221; said
Floyd. He doubtless remembered how he had stolen public property, while
in office under Buchanan, and would rather die than to fall into the
hands of those whom he knew would be likely to bring him to an account
for his villany.</p>

<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t intend to be taken prisoner,&#8221; said Pillow.</p>

<p>&#8220;What will you do, gentlemen?&#8221; Buckner asked.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>&#8220;I mean to escape, and take my Virginia brigade with me, if I can. I
shall turn over the command to General Pillow. I have a right to escape
if I can, but I haven&#8217;t any right to order the entire army to make a
hopeless fight,&#8221; said Floyd.</p>

<p>&#8220;If you surrender it to me, I shall turn it over to General Buckner,&#8221;
said General Pillow, who was also disposed to shirk responsibility and
desert the men whom he had induced to vote to secede from the Union and
take up arms against their country.</p>

<p>&#8220;If the command comes into my hands, I shall deem it my duty to
surrender it. I shall not call upon the troops to make a useless
sacrifice of life, and I will not desert the men who have fought so
nobly,&#8221; Buckner replied, with a bitterness which made Floyd and Pillow
wince.</p>

<p>It was past midnight. The council broke up. The brigade and regimental
officers were astonished at the result. Some of them broke out into
horrid cursing and swearing at Floyd and Pillow.</p>

<p>&#8220;It is mean!&#8221; &#8220;It is cowardly!&#8221; &#8220;Floyd always was a rascal.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;We are betrayed!&#8221; &#8220;There is treachery!&#8221; said they.</p>

<p>&#8220;It is a mean trick for an officer to desert his men. If my troops are
to be surrendered, I shall stick by them,&#8221; said Major Brown.</p>

<p>&#8220;I denounce Pillow as a coward, and if I ever <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>meet him, I&#8217;ll shoot him
as quick as I would a dog,&#8221; said Major McLain, red with rage.</p>

<p>Floyd gave out that he was going to join Colonel Forrest, who commanded
the cavalry, and thus cut his way out; but there were two or three small
steamboats at the Dover landing. He and General Pillow jumped on board
one of them, and then secretly marched a portion of the Virginia brigade
on board. Other soldiers saw what was going on, that they were being
deserted. They became frantic with terror and rage. They rushed on
board, crowding every part of the boat.</p>

<p>&#8220;Cut loose!&#8221; shouted Floyd to the captain. The boats swung into the
stream and moved up the river, leaving thousands of infuriated soldiers
on the landing. So the man who had stolen the public property, and who
did all he could to bring on the war, who induced thousands of poor,
ignorant men to take up arms, deserted his post, stole away in the
darkness, and left them to their fate.</p>

<p>General Buckner immediately wrote a letter to General Grant, asking for
an armistice till twelve o&#8217;clock, and the appointment of commissioners
to agree upon terms by which the fort and the prisoners should be
surrendered.</p>

<p>&#8220;No terms, other than unconditional and immediate surrender can be
accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works,&#8221; was General
Grant&#8217;s reply.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>General Buckner replied, that he thought it very <i>unchivalrous</i>, but
accepted the terms. He meant that he did not think it very honorable in
General Grant to require an unconditional surrender. He professed to
have a high sense of all that was noble, generous, honorable, and
high-minded. But a few days before he had so forgotten those qualities
of character, that he took some cattle from Rev. Mr. Wiggin of
Rochester, Kentucky, one of his old acquaintances, and paid him with a
check of three hundred dollars on the Southern Bank at Russelville. When
Rev. Mr. Wiggin called at the bank and presented the check, the cashier
told him that General Buckner never had had any money on deposit there,
and the bank did not owe him a dollar! He cheated and swindled the
minister, and committed the crime of forgery, which would have sent him
to the state-prison in time of peace.</p>

<p>The morning dawned,&mdash;Sunday morning, calm, clear, and beautiful. The
horrible nights were over and the freezing days gone by. The air was
mild, and there was a gentle breeze from the south, which brought the
blue-birds. They did not mind the soldiers or the cannon, but chirped
and sang in the woods as merrily as ever.</p>

<p>I saw the white flag flying on the breastworks. The soldiers and sailors
saw it, and cheered. General <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>Grant had moved his head-quarters to the
steamboat Uncle Sam, and, as I happened to be on board that boat, I saw
a great deal that took place.</p>

<p>The gunboats, and all the steamboats, fifty or more, began to move up
the river. Dense clouds of smoke rolled up from the tall chimneys. The
great wheels plashed the sparkling stream. Flags were flying on all the
staffs. The army began its march into the fort. The bands played. How
grand the crash of the drums and the trumpets! The soldiers marched
proudly. The columns were winding along the hills,&mdash;the artillery, the
infantry, the cavalry, with all their banners waving, and the bright
sunshine gleaming and glistening on their bayonets! They entered the
fort, and planted their standards on the embankments. The gunboats and
the field artillery fired a grand salute. From the steamboats, from the
hillside, from the fort, and the forest there were answering shouts. The
wounded in the hospitals forgot, for the moment, that they were torn and
mangled, raised themselves on their beds of straw, and mingled their
feeble cheers in the universal rejoicing!</p>

<p>Thirteen thousand men, sixty-seven pieces of artillery, and fifteen
thousand small arms were surrendered. A motley, care-worn, haggard,
anxious crowd stood at the landing. I sprang ashore, and walked through
the ranks. Some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>were standing, some lying down, taking no notice of what
was going on around them. They were prisoners of war. When they joined
the army, they probably did not dream that they would be taken
prisoners. They were to be victorious, and capture the Yankees. They
were poor, ignorant men. Not half of them knew how to read or write.
They had been deluded by their leaders,&mdash;the slaveholders. They had
fought bravely, but they had been defeated, and their generals had
deserted them. No wonder they were down-hearted.</p>

<p>Their clothes were of all colors. Some wore gray, some blue, some
butternut-colored clothes,&mdash;a dirty brown. They were very ragged. Some
had old quilts for blankets, others faded pieces of carpeting, others
strips of new carpeting, which they had taken from the stores. Some had
caps, others old slouched felt hats, and others nothing but straw hats
upon their heads.</p>

<p>&#8220;We fought well, but you outnumbered us,&#8221; said one.</p>

<p>&#8220;We should have beaten you as it was, if it hadn&#8217;t been for your
gunboats,&#8221; said another.</p>

<p>&#8220;How happened it that General Floyd and General Pillow escaped, and left
you?&#8221; I asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;They are traitors. I would shoot the scoundrels, if I could get a
chance,&#8221; said a fellow in a snuff-colored coat, clenching his fist.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>&#8220;I am glad the fighting is over. I don&#8217;t want to see another such day as
yesterday,&#8221; said a Tennesseean, who was lying on the ground.</p>

<p>&#8220;What will General Grant do with us? Will he put us in prison?&#8221; asked
one.</p>

<p>&#8220;That will depend upon how you behave. If you had not taken up arms
against your country, you would not have been in trouble now.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;We couldn&#8217;t help it, sir. I was forced into the army, and I am glad I
am a prisoner. I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t have to fight any more,&#8221; said a blue-eyed young
man, not more than eighteen years old.</p>

<p>There were some who were very sullen and sour, and there were others who
did not care what became of them.</p>

<p>I went up the hill into the town. Nearly every house was filled with the
dying and the dead. The shells from the gunboats had crashed through
some of the buildings. The soldiers had cut down the orchards and the
shade-trees, and burned the fences. All was desolation. There were sad
groups around the camp-fires, with despair upon their countenances. O
how many of them thought of their friends far away, and wished they
could see them again!</p>

<p>The ground was strewed with their guns, cartridge-boxes, belts, and
knapsacks. There were bags of corn, barrels of sugar, hogsheads of
molasses, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>tierces of bacon, broken open and trodden into the mud.</p>

<p>I went into the fort, and saw where the great shells from the gunboats
had cut through the embankments. There were piles of cartridges beside
the cannon. The dead were lying there, torn, mangled, rent. Near the
intrenchments, where the fight had been fiercest, there were pools of
blood. The Rebel soldiers were breaking the frozen earth, digging
burial-trenches, and bringing in their fallen comrades and laying them
side by side, to their last, long, silent sleep. I looked down the slope
where Lauman&#8217;s men swept over the fallen trees in their terrible charge;
then I walked down to the meadow, and looked up the height, and wondered
how men could climb over the trees, the stumps, the rocks, and ascend it
through such a storm. The dead were lying where they fell, heroes every
one of them! It was sad to think that so many noble men had fallen, but
it was a pleasure to know that they had not faltered. They had done
their duty. If you ever visit that battle-field, and stand upon that
slope, you will feel your heart swell with gratitude and joy, to think
how cheerfully they gave their lives to save their country, that you and
all who come after you may enjoy peace and prosperity forever.</p>

<p>How bravely they fought! There, upon the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>cold ground, lay a soldier of
the Ninth Illinois. Early in the action of Saturday he was shot through
the arm. He went to the hospital and had it bandaged, and returned to
his place in the regiment. A second shot passed through his thigh,
tearing the flesh to shreds.</p>

<p>&#8220;We will carry you to the hospital,&#8221; said two of his comrades.</p>

<p>&#8220;No, you stay and fight. I can get along alone.&#8221; He took off his
bayonet, used his gun for a crutch, and reached the hospital. The
surgeon dressed the wound. He heard the roar of battle. His soul was on
fire to be there. He hobbled once more to the field, and went into the
thickest of the fight, lying down, because he could not stand. He fought
as a skirmisher. When the Rebels advanced, he could not retire with the
troops, but continued to fight. After the battle he was found dead upon
the field, six bullets having passed through his body.</p>

<p>One bright-eyed little fellow, of the Second Iowa, had his foot crushed
by a cannon-shot. Two of his comrades carried him to the rear. An
officer saw that, unless the blood was stopped, he never would reach the
hospital. He told the men to tie a handkerchief around his leg, and put
snow on the wound.</p>

<p>&#8220;O, never mind the foot, Captain,&#8221; said the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>brave fellow. &#8220;We drove the
Rebels out, and have got their trench; that&#8217;s the most I care for!&#8221; The
soldiers did as they were directed, and his life was saved.</p>

<p>There in the trenches was a Rebel soldier with a rifle-shot through his
head. He was an excellent marksman, and had killed or wounded several
Union officers. One of Colonel Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters, an old hunter,
who had killed many bears and wolves, crept up towards the breastworks
to try his hand upon the Rebel. They fired at each other again and
again, but both were shrewd and careful. The Rebel raised his hat above
the breastwork,&mdash;whi&mdash;&mdash;z! The sharpshooter out in the bushes had put a
bullet through it. &#8220;Ha! ha! ha!&#8221; laughed the Rebel, sending his own
bullet into the little puff of smoke down in the ravine. The Rocky
Mountain hunter was as still as a mouse. He knew that the Rebel had
outwitted him, and expected the return shot. It was aimed a little too
high, and he was safe.</p>

<p>&#8220;You cheated me that time, but I will be even with you yet,&#8221; said the
sharpshooter, whirling upon his back, and loading his rifle and whirling
back again. He rested his rifle upon the ground, aimed it, and lay with
his eye along the barrel, his finger on the trigger. Five minutes
passed. &#8220;I reckon that that last shot fixed him,&#8221; said the Rebel. &#8220;He
hasn&#8217;t moved this five minutes.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>He raised his head, peeped over the embankment, and fell back lifeless.
The unerring rifle-bullet had passed through his head.</p>

<p>If you could go over the battle-ground with one of those sharpshooters,
he would show you a little clump of bushes, and some stumps, where three
or four of them lay on Saturday, in front of one of the Rebel batteries,
and picked off the gunners. Two or three times the artillerymen tried to
drive them out with shells; but they lay close upon the ground, and the
shells did not touch them. The artillerymen were obliged to cease
firing, and retreat out of reach of the deadly bullets.</p>

<p>Some of the Rebel officers took their surrender very much to heart. They
were proud, insolent, and defiant. Their surrender was unconditional,
and they thought it very hard to give up their swords and pistols. One
of them fired a pistol at Major Mudd, of the Second Illinois, wounding
him in the back. I was very well acquainted with the Major. He lived in
St. Louis, and had been from the beginning an ardent friend of the
Union. He had hunted the guerillas in Missouri, and had fought bravely
at Wilson&#8217;s Creek. It is quite likely he was shot by an old enemy.
General Grant at once issued orders that all the Rebel officers should
be disarmed. General Buckner, in insolent tones, said to General Grant
that it was barbarous, inhuman, brutal, unchivalrous, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>and at variance
with the rules of civilized warfare! General Grant replied:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;You have dared to come here to complain of my acts, without the right
to make an objection. You do not appear to remember that your surrender
was unconditional. Yet, if we compare the acts of the different armies
in this war, how will yours bear inspection? You have cowardly shot my
officers in cold blood. As I rode over the field, I saw the dead of my
army brutally insulted by your men, their clothing stripped off of them,
and their bodies exposed, without the slightest regard for common
decency. Humanity has seldom marked your course whenever our men have
been unfortunate enough to fall into your hands. At Belmont your
authorities disregarded all the usages of civilized warfare. My officers
were crowded into cotton-pens with my brave soldiers, and then thrust
into prison, while your officers were permitted to enjoy their parole,
and live at the hotel in Cairo. Your men are given the same fare as my
own, and your wounded receive our best attention. These are
incontrovertible facts. I have simply taken the precaution to disarm
your officers and men, because necessity compelled me to protect my own
from assassination.&#8221;</p>

<p>General Buckner had no reply to make. He hung his head in shame at the
rebuke.</p>

<p>Major Mudd, though severely wounded, recovered, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>but lost his life in
another battle. One day, while riding with him in Missouri, he told me a
very good story. He said he was once riding in the cars, and that a very
inquisitive man sat by his side. A few rods from every road-crossing the
railroad company had put up boards with the letters W. R. upon them.</p>

<p>&#8220;What be them for?&#8221; asked the man.</p>

<p>&#8220;Those are directions to the engineer to blow the whistle and ring the
bell, that people who may be on the carriage-road may look out and not
get run over by the train,&#8221; the Major answered.</p>

<p>&#8220;O yes, I see.&#8221;</p>

<p>The man sat in silence awhile, with his lips working as if he was trying
to spell.</p>

<p>&#8220;Well, Major,&#8221; he said at last, &#8220;it may be as you say. I know that
w-r-i-n-g spells ring, but for the life of me I don&#8217;t see how you can
get an R into whistle!&#8221;</p>

<p>The fall of Fort Donelson was a severe blow to the Rebels. It had a
great effect. It was the first great victory of the Union troops. It
opened all the northwest corner of the Confederacy. It compelled General
Johnston to retreat from Bowling Green, and also compelled the
evacuation of Columbus and all Central Tennessee. Nashville, the capital
of that State, fell into the hands of the Union troops.</p>

<p>On Sunday morning the Rebels at Nashville <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>were in good spirits. General
Pillow had telegraphed on Saturday noon, as you remember, &#8220;On the honor
of a soldier, the day is ours.&#8221; The citizens shouted over it.</p>

<p>One sober citizen said: &#8220;I never liked Pillow, but I forgive him now. He
is the man for the occasion.&#8221;</p>

<p>Another, who had been Governor of the State,&mdash;a wicked, profane
man,&mdash;said: &#8220;It is first-rate news. Pillow is giving the Yankees hell,
and rubbing it in!&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> It is a vile sentence, and I would not quote it,
were it not that you might have a true picture from Rebel sources.</p>

<p>The newspapers put out bulletins:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Enemy Retreating! Glorious Result!! Our Boys following and peppering
their Rear!! A complete Victory!</span>&#8221;</div>

<p>The bell-ringers rang jubilant peals, and the citizens shook hands over
the good news as they went to church. Services had hardly commenced,
when a horseman dashed through the streets, covered with mud, and almost
breathless from hard riding, shouting, &#8220;Fort Donelson has surrendered,
and the Yankees are coming!&#8221;</p>

<p>The people poured out from the churches and their houses into the
street. Such hurrying to and fro was never seen. Men, women, and
children ran here and there, not knowing what to do, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>imagining that the
Yankees would murder them. They began to pack their goods. Carts,
wagons, carriages, drays, wheelbarrows,&mdash;all were loaded. Strong men
were pale with fear, women wrung their hands, and children cried.</p>

<p>Before noon Generals Floyd and Pillow arrived on steamboats. The people
crowded round the renegade officers, and called for a speech. General
Floyd went out upon the balcony of the hotel, and said:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;Fellow-Citizens: This is not the time for speaking, but for action. It
is a time when every man should enlist for the war. Not a day is to be
lost. We had only ten thousand effective men, who fought four days and
nights against forty thousand of the enemy. But nature could hold out no
longer. The men required rest, and having lost one third of my gallant
force I was compelled to retire. We have left a thousand of the enemy
dead on the field. General Johnston has not slept a wink for three
nights; he is all worn out, but he is acting wisely. He is going to
entice the Yankees into the mountain gaps, away from the rivers and the
gunboats, and then drive them back, and carry the war into the enemy&#8217;s
country.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p>

<p>General Johnston&#8217;s army, retreating from Bowling Green, began to pass
through the city. The <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>soldiers did not stop, but passed on towards the
South. The people had thought that General Johnston would defend the
place, the capital of the State; but when they saw that the troops were
retreating, they recklessly abandoned their homes. It was a wild night
in Nashville. The Rebels had two gunboats nearly completed, which were
set on fire. The Rebel storehouses were thrown open to the poor people,
who rushed pell-mell to help themselves to pork, flour, molasses, and
sugar. A great deal was destroyed. After Johnston&#8217;s army had crossed the
river, the beautiful and costly wire suspension bridge which spanned it
was cut down. It cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and
belonged to the daughters of the Rebel General Zollicoffer, who was
killed at the battle of Mill Springs in Kentucky. The Rebel officers
undertook to carry off the immense supplies of food which had been
accumulated; but in the panic, barrels of meat and flour, sacks of
coffee, hogsheads of sugar were rolled into the streets and trampled
into the mire. Millions of dollars&#8217; worth were lost to the Confederacy.
The farmers in the country feared that they would lose their slaves, and
from all the section round they hurried the poor creatures towards the
South, hoping to find a place where they would be secure.</p>

<p>Throughout the South there was gloom and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>despondency. But all over the
North there was great rejoicing. Everybody praised the brave soldiers
who had fought so nobly. There were public meetings, speeches,
processions, illuminations and bonfires, and devout thanksgivings to
God.</p>

<p>The deeds of the brave men of the West were praised in poetry and song.
Some stanzas were published in the Atlantic Monthly in Boston, which are
so beautiful that I think you will thank me for quoting them.</p>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">&#8220;O gales that dash the Atlantic&#8217;s swell</span><br />
<span class="i2">Along our rocky shores,</span><br />
<span class="i0">Whose thunders diapason well</span><br />
<span class="i2">New England&#8217;s glad hurrahs,</span></div>

<div class="stanza"><span class="i0">&#8220;Bear to the prairies of the West</span><br />
<span class="i2">The echoes of our joy,</span><br />
<span class="i0">The prayer that springs in every breast,&mdash;</span><br />
<span class="i2">&#8216;God bless thee, Illinois!&#8217;</span></div>

<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">&#8220;O awful hours, when grape and shell</span><br />
<span class="i2">Tore through the unflinching line!</span><br />
<span class="i0">&#8216;Stand firm! remove the men who fell!</span><br />
<span class="i2">Close up, and wait the sign.&#8217;</span></div>

<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">&#8220;It came at last, &#8216;Now, lads, the steel!&#8217;</span><br />
<span class="i2">The rushing hosts deploy;</span><br />
<span class="i0">&#8216;Charge, boys!&#8217;&mdash;the broken traitors reel,&mdash;</span><br />
<span class="i2">Huzza for Illinois!</span></div>

<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span><span class="i0">&#8220;In vain thy rampart, Donelson,</span><br />
<span class="i2">The living torrent bars,</span><br />
<span class="i0">It leaps the wall, the fort is won,</span><br />
<span class="i2">Up go the Stripes and Stars.</span></div>

<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">&#8220;Thy proudest mother&#8217;s eyelids fill,</span><br />
<span class="i2">As dares her gallant boy,</span><br />
<span class="i0">And Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill</span><br />
<span class="i2">Yearn to thee, Illinois.&#8221;</span></div></div></div>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>

<h3>THE ARMY AT PITTSBURG LANDING.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">n</span>
the 6th and 7th of April, 1862, one of the greatest battles of the
war was fought near Pittsburg Landing in Tennessee, on the west bank of
the Tennessee River, about twelve miles from the northeast corner of the
State of Mississippi. The Rebels call it the battle of Shiloh, because
it was fought near Shiloh Church. I did not see the terrible contest,
but I reached the place soon after the fight, in season to see the guns,
cannon, wagons, knapsacks, cartridge-boxes, which were scattered over
the ground, and the newly-made graves where the dead had just been
buried. I was in camp upon the field several weeks, and saw the woods,
the plains, hills, ravines. Officers and men who were in the fight
pointed out the places where they stood, showed me where the Rebels
advanced, where their batteries were, how they advanced and retreated,
how the tide of victory ebbed and flowed. Having been so early on the
ground, and having listened to the stories of a great many persons, I
shall try to give you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>a correct account. It will be a difficult task,
however, for the stories are conflicting. No two persons see a battle
alike; each has his own stand-point. He sees what takes place around
him. No other one will tell a story like his. Men have different
temperaments. One is excited, and another is cool and collected. Men
live fast in battle. Every nerve is excited, every sense intensified,
and it is only by taking the accounts of different observers that an
accurate view can be obtained.</p>

<p>After the capture of Fort Donelson, you remember that General Johnston
retreated through Nashville towards the South. A few days later the
Rebels evacuated Columbus on the Mississippi. They were obliged to
concentrate their forces. They saw that Memphis would be the next point
of attack, and they must defend it. All of their energies were aroused.
The defeat of the Union army at Bull Run, you remember, caused a great
uprising of the North, and so the fall of Donelson stirred the people of
the South.</p>

<p>If you look at the map of Tennessee, you will notice, about twenty miles
from Pittsburg Landing, the town of Corinth. It is at the junction of
the Memphis and Charleston and the Mobile and Ohio Railroads, which made
it an important place to the Rebels.</p>

<p>&#8220;Corinth must be defended,&#8221; said the Memphis newspapers.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 441px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i163.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="441" height="400" alt="Pittsburg Landing and Vicinity." title="" />
<span class="caption">Pittsburg Landing and Vicinity.</span>
</div>

<p>Governor Harris of Tennessee issued a proclamation calling upon the
people to enlist.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;As Governor of your State, and Commander-in-Chief of its army, I call
upon every able-bodied man of the State, without regard to age, to
enlist in its service. I command him who can obtain a weapon to march
with our armies. I ask him who can repair or forge an arm to make it
ready at once for the soldier.&#8221;</p></div>

<p>General Beauregard was sent in great haste to the West by Jeff Davis,
who hoped that the fame and glory which he had won by attacking Fort
Sumter and at Bull Run would rouse the people <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>of the Southwest and save
the failing fortunes of the Confederacy.</p>

<p>To Corinth came the flower of the Southern army. All other points were
weakened to save Corinth. From Pensacola came General Bragg and ten
thousand Alabamians, who had watched for many months the little frowning
fortress on Santa Rosa Island. The troops which had been at Mobile to
resist the landing of General Butler from Ship Island were hastened
north upon the trains of the Mobile and Ohio road. General Beauregard
called upon the Governors of Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, and
Louisiana for additional troops.</p>

<p>General Polk, who had been a bishop before the war, sent down two
divisions from Columbus on the Mississippi. General Johnston with his
retreating army hastened on, and thus all the Rebel troops in the
Southwestern States were mustered at Corinth.</p>

<p>The call to take up arms was responded to everywhere; old men and boys
came trooping into the place. They came from Texas, Arkansas, and
Missouri. Beauregard labored with unremitting energy to create an army
which would be powerful enough to drive back the Union troops, recover
Tennessee, and invade Kentucky.</p>

<p>General Grant, after the capture of Donelson, moved his army, on
steamboats, down the Cumberland <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>and up the Tennessee, to Pittsburg
Landing. He made his head-quarters at Savannah, a small town ten miles
below Pittsburg Landing, on the east side of the river.</p>

<p>General Buell, who had followed General Johnston through Nashville with
the army of the Ohio, was slowly making his way across the country to
join General Grant. The Rebel generals had the railroads, by which they
could rapidly concentrate their troops, and they determined to attack
General Grant at Pittsburg, with their superior force, before General
Buell could join him. Beauregard had his pickets within four miles of
General Grant&#8217;s force, and he could move his entire army within striking
distance before General Grant would know of his danger. He calculated
that he could annihilate General Grant, drive him into the river, or
force him to surrender, capture all of his cannon, wagons, ammunition,
provisions, steamboats,&mdash;everything,&mdash;by a sudden stroke. If he
succeeded, he could then move against General Buell, destroy his army,
and not only recover all that had been lost, but he would also redeem
Kentucky and invade Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.</p>

<p>All but one division of General Grant&#8217;s army was at Pittsburg. Two miles
above the Landing the river begins to make its great eastern bend. Lick
Creek comes in from the west, at the bend. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>Three miles below Pittsburg
is Snake Creek, which also comes in from the west. Five miles further
down is Crump&#8217;s Landing. General Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division was near
Crump&#8217;s, but the other divisions were between the two creeks. The banks
of the river are seventy-five feet high, and the country is a succession
of wooded hills, with numerous ravines. There are a few clearings and
farm-houses, but it is nearly all forest,&mdash;tall oak-trees, with here and
there thickets of underbrush. The farmers cultivate a little corn,
cotton, and tobacco. The country has been settled many years, but is
almost as wild as when the Indians possessed the land.</p>

<p>Pittsburg is the nearest point to Corinth on the river. The road from
the Landing winds up the bank, passes along the edge of a deep ravine,
and leads southwest. As you go up the road, you come to a log-cabin
about a mile from the river. There is a peach-orchard near by. There the
roads fork. The left-hand road takes you to Hamburg, the middle one is
the Ridge road to Corinth, and the third is the road to Shiloh Church,
called also the Lower Corinth road. There are other openings in the
woods,&mdash;old cotton-fields. Three miles out from the river you come to
Shiloh Church. A clear brook, which is fed by springs, gurgles over a
sandy bed, close by the church. You fill your canteen, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>and find it
excellent water. On Sunday noons, the people who come to church sit down
beneath the grand old trees, eat their dinners, and drink from the
brook.</p>

<p>It is not such a church as you see in your own village. It has no tall
steeple or tapering spire, no deep-toned bell, no organ, no
singing-seats or gallery, no pews or carpeted aisles. It is built of
logs. It was chinked with clay years ago, but the rains have washed it
out. You can thrust your hand between the cracks. It is thirty or forty
feet square. It has places for windows, but there are no sashes, and of
course no glass. As you stand within, you can see up to the roof,
supported by hewn rafters, and covered with split shingles, which shake
and rattle when the wind blows. It is the best-ventilated church you
ever saw. It has no pews, but only rough seats for the congregation. A
great many of the churches of this section of the country are no better
than this. Slavery does not build neat churches and school-houses, as a
general thing. Around this church the battle raged fearfully.</p>

<p>Not far from the church, a road leads northeast towards Crump&#8217;s Landing,
and another northwest towards the town of Purdy. By the church, along
the road leading down to the Landing, at the peach-orchard, and in the
ravines you find the battle-ground.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>General Johnston was senior commander of the Rebel army. He had
Beauregard, Bragg, Polk, Hardee, Cheatham,&mdash;all Major-Generals, who had
been educated at West Point, at the expense of the United States. They
were considered to be the ablest generals in the Rebel service. General
Breckenridge was there. He was Vice-President under Buchanan, and was
but a few weeks out of his seat in the Senate of the United States. He
was, you remember, the slaveholders&#8217; candidate for President in 1860.
Quite likely he felt very sour against the Northern people, because he
was not elected President.</p>

<p>The Rebel army numbered between forty and fifty thousand men. General
Johnston worked with all his might to organize into brigades the troops
which were flocking in from all quarters. It was of the utmost
importance that the attack should be made before General Buell joined
General Grant. The united and concentrated forces of Beauregard, Bragg,
and Johnston outnumbered Grant&#8217;s army by fifteen thousand. General Van
Dorn, with thirty thousand men, was expected from Arkansas. They were to
come by steamboat to Memphis, and were to be transported to Corinth by
the Memphis and Charleston Railroad; but Van Dorn was behind time, and,
unless the attack was made at once, it would be too late, for the
combined armies of Grant and Buell would outnumber <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>the Rebels. At
midnight, on the 1st of April, Johnston learned that General Buell&#8217;s
advance divisions were within two or three days&#8217; march of Savannah. He
immediately issued his orders to his corps commanders, directing the
routes which each was to take in advancing towards Pittsburg.</p>

<p>The troops began their march on Thursday morning. They were in excellent
spirits. They cheered, swung their hats, and marched with great
enthusiasm. The Rebel officers, who knew the situation, the ground where
General Grant was encamped, believed that his army would be annihilated.
They assured the troops it would be a great and glorious victory.</p>

<p>The distance was only eighteen miles, and General Johnston intended to
strike the blow at daylight on Saturday morning, but it rained hard
Friday night, and the roads in the morning were so muddy that the
artillery could not move. It was late Saturday afternoon before his army
was in position. It was too near night to make the attack. He examined
the ground, distributed ammunition, posted the artillery, gave the men
extra rations, and waited for Sunday morning.</p>

<p>The Union army rested in security. No intrenchments were thrown up on
the hills and along the ridges. No precautions were taken against
surprise. The officers and soldiers did not dream of being attacked.
They were unprepared. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>The divisions were not in order for battle. They
were preparing to advance upon Corinth, and were to march when General
Halleck, who was at St. Louis, commanding the department, should take
the field.</p>

<p>On the evening of Friday the pickets on the Corinth road, two miles out
from Shiloh Church, were fired upon. A body of Rebels rushed through the
woods, and captured several officers and men. The Seventieth,
Seventy-second, and Forty-eighth Ohio, of General Sherman&#8217;s division,
were sent out upon a reconnoissance. They came upon a couple of Rebel
regiments, and, after a sharp action, drove them back to a Rebel
battery, losing three or four prisoners and taking sixteen. General
Lewis Wallace ordered out his division, and moved up from Crump&#8217;s
Landing a mile or two, and the troops stood under arms in the rain, that
poured in torrents through the night, to be ready for an attack from
that direction; but nothing came of it. There was more skirmishing on
Saturday,&mdash;a continual firing along the picket lines. All supposed that
the Rebels were making a reconnoissance. No one thought that one of the
greatest battles of the war was close at hand. General Grant went down
the river to Savannah on Saturday night. The troops dried their clothes
in the sun, cooked their suppers, told their evening stories, and put
out their lights at tattoo, as usual.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>To get at the position of General Grant&#8217;s army, let us start from
Pittsburg Landing. It is a very busy place at the Landing. Forty or
fifty steamboats are there, and hundreds of men are rolling out barrels
of sugar, bacon, pork, beef, boxes of bread, bundles of hay, and
thousands of sacks of corn. There are several hundred wagons waiting to
transport the supplies to the troops. A long train winds up the hill
towards the west.</p>

<p>Ascending the hill, you come to the forks of the roads. The right-hand
road leads to Crump&#8217;s Landing. You see General Smith&#8217;s old division,
which took the rifle-pits at Donelson, on the right-hand side of the
road in the woods. It is commanded now by W. H. L. Wallace, who has been
made a Brigadier-General for his heroism at Donelson. There have been
many changes of commanders since that battle. Colonels who commanded
regiments there are now brigade commanders.</p>

<p>Keeping along the Shiloh road a few rods, you come to the road which
leads to Hamburg. Instead of turning up that, you keep on a little
farther to the Ridge road, leading to Corinth. General Prentiss&#8217;s
division is on that road, two miles out, towards the southwest. Instead
of taking that road, you still keep on the right-hand one, travelling
nearly west all the while, and you come to McClernand&#8217;s division, which
is encamped <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>in a long line on both sides of the road. Here you see
Dresser&#8217;s, Taylor&#8217;s, Schwartz&#8217;s, and McAllister&#8217;s batteries, and all
those regiments which fought so determinedly at Donelson. They face
northwest. Their line is a little east of the church.</p>

<p>Passing over to the church, you see that a number of roads centre
there,&mdash;one coming in from the northwest, which will take you to Purdy;
one from the northeast, which will carry you to Crump&#8217;s Landing; the
road up which you have travelled from Pittsburg Landing; one from the
southeast, which will take you to Hamburg; and one from the southwest,
which is the lower road to Corinth.</p>

<p>You see, close by the church, on both sides of this lower road to
Corinth, General Sherman&#8217;s division, not facing northwest, but nearly
south. McClernand&#8217;s left and Sherman&#8217;s left are close together. They
form the two sides of a triangle, the angle being at the left wings.
They are in a very bad position to be attacked.</p>

<p>Take the Hamburg road now, and go southeast two miles and you come to
the crossing of the Ridge road to Corinth, where you will find General
Prentiss&#8217;s division, before mentioned. Keeping on, you come to Lick
Creek. It has high, steep banks. It is fordable at this point, and
Colonel Stuart&#8217;s brigade of Sherman&#8217;s division is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>there, guarding the
crossing. The brook which gurgles past the church empties into the
creek. You see that Prentiss&#8217;s entire division, and the left wing of
McClernand&#8217;s, is between Stuart&#8217;s brigade and the rest of Sherman&#8217;s
division. There are detached regiments encamped in the woods near the
Landing, which have just arrived, and have not been brigaded. There are
also two regiments of cavalry in rear of these lines. There are several
pieces of siege artillery on the top of the hill near the Landing, but
there are no artillerists or gunners to serve them.</p>

<p>You see that the army does not expect to be attacked. The cavalry ought
to be out six or eight miles on picket; but they are here, the horses
quietly eating their oats. The infantry pickets ought to be out three or
four miles, but they are not a mile and a half advanced from the camp.
The army is in a bad position to resist a sudden attack from a superior
force. McClernand ought not to be at right angles with Sherman, Stuart
ought not to be separated from his division by Prentiss, and General
Lewis Wallace is too far away to render prompt assistance. Besides,
General Grant is absent, and there is no commander-in-chief on the
field. You wonder that no preparations have been make to resist an
attack, no breastworks thrown up, no proper disposition of the forces,
no extended reconnoissances by the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>cavalry, and that, after the
skirmishing on Friday and Saturday, all hands should lie down so quietly
in their tents on Saturday night. They did not dream that fifty thousand
Rebels were ready to strike them at daybreak.</p>

<p>General Johnston&#8217;s plan of attack was submitted to his corps commanders
and approved by them. It was to hurl the entire army upon Prentiss and
Sherman. He had four lines of troops, extending from Lick Creek on the
right to the southern branch of Snake Creek on the left, a distance of
about two miles and a half.</p>

<p>The front line was composed of Major-General Hardee&#8217;s entire corps, with
General Gladden&#8217;s brigade of Bragg&#8217;s corps added on the right. The
artillery was placed in front, followed closely by the infantry.
Squadrons of cavalry were thrown out on both wings to sweep the woods
and drive in the Union pickets.</p>

<p>About five hundred yards in rear of Hardee was the second line, Bragg&#8217;s
corps in the same order as Hardee&#8217;s. Eight hundred yards in rear of
Bragg was General Polk, his left wing supported by cavalry, his
batteries in position to advance at a moment&#8217;s notice. The reserve,
under General Breckenridge, followed close upon Polk. Breckenridge&#8217;s and
Polk&#8217;s corps were both reckoned as reserves. They had instructions to
act as they thought best. There were from ten to twelve thousand men in
each line.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>The Rebel troops had received five days&#8217; rations on Friday,&mdash;meat and
bread in their haversacks. They were not permitted to kindle a fire
except in holes in the ground. No loud talking was allowed; no drums
beat the tattoo, no bugle-note rang through the forest. They rolled
themselves in their blankets, knowing at daybreak they were to strike
the terrible blow. They were confident of success. They were assured by
their officers it would be an easy victory, and that on Sunday night
they should sleep in the Yankee camp, eat Yankee bread, drink real
coffee, and have new suits of clothes.</p>

<p>In the evening General Johnston called his corps commanders around his
bivouac fire for a last talk before the battle. Although Johnston was
commander-in-chief, Beauregard planned the battle. Johnston was
Beauregard&#8217;s senior, but the battle-ground was in Beauregard&#8217;s
department. He gave directions to the officers.</p>

<p>Mr. William G. Stevenson, of Kentucky, who was in Arkansas when the war
broke out, was impressed into the Rebel service. He acted as special
<i>aide-de-camp</i> to General Breckenridge in that battle. He escaped from
the Rebel service a few months later, and has published an interesting
narrative of what he saw.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> He stood outside the circle of generals
waiting by his horse <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>in the darkness to carry any despatch for his
commander. He gives this description of the scene:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;In an open space, with a dim fire in the midst, and a drum on which to
write, you could see grouped around their &#8216;Little Napoleon,&#8217; as
Beauregard was sometimes fondly called, ten or twelve generals, the
flickering light playing over their eager faces, while they listened to
his plans, and made suggestions as to the conduct of the fight.</p>

<p>&#8220;Beauregard soon warmed with his subject, and, throwing off his cloak,
to give free play to his arms, he walked about the group, gesticulating
rapidly, and jerking out his sentences with a strong French accent. All
listened attentively, and the dim light, just revealing their
countenances, showed their different emotions of confidence or distrust
of his plans.</p>

<p>&#8220;General Sidney Johnston stood apart from the rest, with his tall,
straight form standing out like a spectre against the dim sky, and the
illusion was fully sustained by the light-gray military cloak which he
folded around him. His face was pale, but wore a determined expression,
and at times he drew nearer the centre of the ring, and said a few
words, which were listened to with great attention. It may be he had
some foreboding of the fate he was to meet on the morrow, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>for he did not
seem to take much part in the discussion.</p>

<p>&#8220;General Breckenridge lay stretched out on a blanket near the fire, and
occasionally sat upright and added a few words of counsel. General Bragg
spoke frequently, and with earnestness. General Polk sat on a camp-stool
at the outside of the circle, and held his head between his hands,
buried in thought. Others reclined or sat in various positions.</p>

<p>&#8220;For two hours the council lasted, and as it broke up, and the generals
were ready to return to their respective commands, I heard General
Beauregard say, raising his hand and pointing in the direction of the
Federal camp, whose drums we could plainly hear, &#8216;Gentlemen, we sleep in
the enemy&#8217;s camp to-morrow night.&#8217;&#8221;</p></div>

<p>The Confederate General, the same writer says, had minute information of
General Grant&#8217;s position and numbers. This knowledge was obtained
through spies and informers, some of whom lived in the vicinity, had
been in and out of Grant&#8217;s camp again and again, and knew every foot of
ground.</p>

<p>Under these circumstances, with a superior force, with accurate
knowledge of the position of every brigade in General Grant&#8217;s army, with
troops in the best spirits, enthusiastic, ardent, expecting a victory,
stealing upon a foe unsuspicious, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>unprepared, with brigades and
divisions widely separated, with General Grant, the commander-in-chief,
ten miles away, and General Buell&#8217;s nearest troops twenty miles distant,
the Rebel generals waited impatiently for the coming of the morning.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>

<h3>THE BATTLE.</h3>

<h4><span class="smcap">From Daybreak till Ten o&#8217;clock.</span></h4>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">t</span>
was a lovely morning. A few fleecy clouds floated in the sky. The
trees were putting out their tender leaves. The air was fragrant with
the first blossoms of spring. The birds were singing their sweetest
songs.</p>

<p>At three o&#8217;clock the Rebel troops were under arms, their breakfasts
eaten, their blankets folded, their knapsacks laid aside. They were to
move unencumbered, that they might fight with more vigor. The morning
brightened, and the long lines moved through the forest.</p>

<p>The Union army was asleep. The reveille had not been beaten. The
soldiers were still dreaming of home, or awaiting the morning drum-beat.
The mules and horses were tied to the wagons, whinnying for their oats
and corn. A few teamsters were astir. Cooks were rekindling the
smouldering camp-fires. The pickets, a mile out, had kept watch through
the night. There had been but little firing. There was nothing to
indicate the near approach of fifty thousand men. Beauregard <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>had ordered
that there should be no picket-firing through the night.</p>

<p>General Prentiss had strengthened his picket-guard on the Corinth Ridge
road Saturday night. Some of his officers reported that Rebel cavalry
were plenty in the woods. He therefore doubled his grand guard, and
extended the line. He also ordered Colonel Moore, of the Twenty-first
Missouri, to go to the front with five companies of his regiment.
Colonel Moore marched at three o&#8217;clock. General Prentiss did not expect
a battle, but the appearance of the Rebels along the lines led him to
take these precautions.</p>

<p>About the time Colonel Moore reached the pickets the Rebel skirmishers
came in sight. The firing began. The pickets resolutely maintained their
ground, but the Rebels pushed on. Colonel Moore, hearing the firing,
hastened forward. It was hardly light enough to distinguish men from
trees, but the steady advance of the Rebels convinced him that they were
making a serious demonstration. He sent a messenger to General Prentiss
for the balance of his regiment, which was sent forward. At the same
time General Prentiss issued orders for the remainder of his division to
form.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 369px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i181.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="369" height="500" alt="Pittsburg Landing." title="" />
<span class="caption">Pittsburg Landing.</span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="DISPOSITION">

<tr><td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Hurlburt&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">8</td>
<td align="left">Gunboats.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">W. H. L. Wallace&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">9</td>
<td align="left">Transports.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">McClernand&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">10</td>
<td align="left">Ravine.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Sherman&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">A</td>
<td align="left">Hardee&#8217;s line.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Prentiss&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">B</td>
<td align="left">Bragg&#8217;s line.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">6</td>
<td align="left">Stuart&#8217;s brigade.</td>
<td align="right">C</td>
<td align="left">Polk&#8217;s line.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">7</td>
<td align="left">Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division.</td>
<td align="right">D</td>
<td align="left">Breckenridge&#8217;s reserves.</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>His entire force was seven regiments, divided into two brigades. The
first brigade was commanded by Colonel Peabody, and contained the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>Twenty-fifth
Missouri, Sixteenth Wisconsin, and Twelfth Michigan. The
second brigade was composed of the Eighteenth and Twenty-third Missouri,
Eighteenth Wisconsin, and Sixty-first Illinois. The Twenty-third
Missouri was at Pittsburg Landing, having just disembarked from a
transport, and was not with the brigade till nearly ten o&#8217;clock. When
the firing began, its commander, having been ordered to report to
General Prentiss, moved promptly to join the division.</p>

<p>General Prentiss also sent an officer to Generals Hurlburt and Wallace,
commanding the divisions in his rear, near the Landing, informing them
that the Rebels were attacking his pickets in force. The firing
increased. The Twenty-first Missouri gave a volley or two, but were
obliged to fall back.</p>

<p>There had been a great deal of practising at target in the regiments,
and every morning the pickets, on their return from the front,
discharged their guns, and so accustomed had the soldiers become to the
constant firing, that these volleys, so early in the morning, did not
alarm the camp.</p>

<p>The orders which General Prentiss had issued were tardily acted upon.
Many of the officers had not risen when the Twenty-first Missouri came
back upon the double-quick, with Colonel Moore and several others
wounded. They came in with wild cries. The Rebels were close upon their
heels.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>General Johnston had, as you have already seen, four lines of troops.
The third corps was in front, commanded by Major-General Hardee, the
second corps next, commanded by General Bragg; the first corps next,
commanded by Major-General Polk, followed by the reserves under General
Breckenridge.</p>

<p>General Hardee had three brigades, Hindman&#8217;s, Cleburn&#8217;s, and Wood&#8217;s.
General Bragg had two divisions, containing six brigades. The first
division was commanded by General Ruggles, and contained Gibson&#8217;s,
Anderson&#8217;s, and Pond&#8217;s brigades. The second division was commanded by
General Withers, and contained Gladden&#8217;s, Chalmers&#8217;s, and Jackson&#8217;s
brigades.</p>

<p>General Polk had two divisions, containing four brigades. The first
division was commanded by General Clark, and contained Russell&#8217;s and
Stewart&#8217;s brigades. The second division was commanded by Major-General
Cheatham, and contained Johnson&#8217;s and Stephens&#8217;s brigades.</p>

<p>Breckenridge had Tabue&#8217;s, Bowen&#8217;s and Statham&#8217;s brigades. General
Gladden&#8217;s brigade of Withers&#8217;s division was placed on the right of
Hardee&#8217;s line. It was composed of the Twenty-first, Twenty-fifth,
Twenty-sixth Alabama, and First Louisiana, with Robertson&#8217;s battery.
Hindman&#8217;s brigade joined upon Gladden&#8217;s. Gladden followed Colonel
Moore&#8217;s force, and fell upon Prentiss&#8217;s camp.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>Instantly there was a great commotion in the camp,&mdash;shouting, hallooing,
running to and fro, saddling horses, seizing guns and cartridge-boxes,
and forming in ranks. Gladden advanced rapidly, sending his bullets into
the encampment. Men who had not yet risen were shot while lying in their
tents.</p>

<p>But General Prentiss was all along his lines, issuing his orders,
inspiring the men who, just awakened from sleep, were hardly in
condition to act coolly. He ordered his whole force forward, with the
exception of the Sixteenth Iowa, which had no ammunition, having arrived
from Cairo on Saturday evening.</p>

<p>There was a wide gap between Prentiss&#8217;s right and Sherman&#8217;s left, and
Hardee, finding no one to oppose him, pushed his own brigades into the
gap, flanking Prentiss on one side and Sherman on the other, as you will
see by a glance at the diagram on page 173.</p>

<p>Behind Gladden were Withers&#8217;s remaining brigades, Chalmers&#8217;s, and
Jackson&#8217;s. Chalmers was on the right, farther east than Gladden. He had
the Fifth, Seventh, Ninth, Tenth Mississippi, and Fifty-second
Tennessee, and Gage&#8217;s battery.</p>

<p>Jackson had the Second Texas, Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth
Alabama, and Girardey&#8217;s battery. Chalmers moved rapidly upon Prentiss&#8217;s
left flank. Gage&#8217;s and Robertson&#8217;s batteries <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>both opened with shell.
Jackson came up on Prentiss&#8217;s right, and in a short time his six
regiments were engaged with twelve of Bragg&#8217;s and two batteries.</p>

<p>They curled around Prentiss on both flanks, began to gain his rear to
cut him off from the Landing, and separate him from Stuart&#8217;s brigade of
Sherman&#8217;s division, which was a mile distant on the Hamburg road. The
regiments on the left began to break, then those in the centre. The
Rebels saw their advantage. Before them, dotting the hillside, were the
much-coveted tents. They rushed on with a savage war-cry.</p>

<p>General Prentiss, aided by the cool and determined Colonel Peabody,
rallied the faltering troops in front, but there was no power to stop
the flood upon the flanks.</p>

<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t give way! Stand firm! Drive them back with the bayonet!&#8221; shouted
Colonel Peabody, and some Missourians as brave as he remained in their
places, loading and firing deliberately.</p>

<p>&#8220;On! on! forward boys!&#8221; cried General Gladden, leading his men; but a
cannon-shot came screaming through the woods, knocked him from his
horse, inflicting a mortal wound. The command devolved on Colonel Adams
of the First Louisiana.</p>

<p>But the unchecked tide was flowing past Prentiss&#8217;s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>gallant band.
Prentiss looked up to the right and saw it there, the long lines of men
steadily moving through the forest. He galloped to the left and saw it
there. The bayonets of the enemy were glistening between him and the
brightening light in the east. His men were losing strength. They were
falling before the galling fire, now given at short range. They were
beginning to flee. He must fall back, and leave his camp, or be
surrounded. His troops ran in wild disorder. Men, horses,
baggage-wagons, ambulances, bounded over logs and stumps and through
thickets in indescribable confusion. Colonel Peabody was shot from his
horse, mortally wounded, and his troops, which had begun to show pluck
and endurance, joined the fugitives.</p>

<p>Prentiss advised Hurlburt of the disaster. Hurlburt was prepared. He
moved his division forward upon the double-quick. Prentiss&#8217;s
disorganized regiments drifted through it, but his ranks were unshaken.</p>

<p>The Rebels entered the tents of the captured camp, threw off their old
clothes, and helped themselves to new garments, broke open trunks,
rifled the knapsacks, and devoured the warm breakfast. They were
jubilant; they shouted, danced, sung, and thought the victory won. Two
or three hundred prisoners were taken, disarmed, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>their pockets
searched. They were obliged to give up all their money, and exchange
clothes with their captors, and then were marched to the rear.</p>

<p>While this was taking place in Prentiss&#8217;s division, Sherman&#8217;s pickets
were being driven back by the rapid advance of the Rebel lines. It was a
little past sunrise when they came in, breathless, with startling
accounts that the entire Rebel army was at their heels. The officers
were not out of bed. The soldiers were just stirring, rubbing their
eyes, putting on their boots, washing at the brook, or tending their
camp-kettles. Their guns were in their tents; they had a small supply of
ammunition. It was a complete surprise.</p>

<p>Officers jumped from their beds, tore open the tent-flies, and stood in
undress to see what it was all about. The Rebel pickets rushed up within
close musket range and fired.</p>

<p>&#8220;Fall in! Form a line! here, quick!&#8221; were the orders from the officers.</p>

<p>There was running in every direction. Soldiers for their guns, officers
for their sabres, artillerists to their pieces, teamsters to their
horses. There was hot haste, and a great hurly-burly.</p>

<p>General Hardee made a mistake at the outset. Instead of rushing up with
a bayonet-charge upon Sherman&#8217;s camp, and routing his unformed brigades
in an instant, as he might have done, he unlimbered his batteries and
opened fire.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>The first infantry attack was upon Hildebrand&#8217;s brigade, composed of the
Fifty-third, Fifty-ninth, and Seventy-sixth Ohio, and the Fifty-third
Illinois, which was on the left of the division. Next to it stood
Buckland&#8217;s brigade, composed of the Forty-eighth, Seventieth, and
Seventy-second Ohio. On the extreme right, west of the church, was
McDowell&#8217;s brigade, composed of the Sixth Iowa, Fortieth Illinois, and
Forty-sixth Ohio. Taylor&#8217;s battery was parked around the church, and
Waterhouse&#8217;s battery was on a ridge a little east of the church, behind
Hildebrand&#8217;s brigade.</p>

<p>Notwithstanding this sudden onset, the ranks did not break. Some men
ran, but the regiments formed with commendable firmness. The Rebel
skirmishers came down to the bushes which border the brook south of the
church, and began a scattering fire, which was returned by Sherman&#8217;s
pickets, which were still in line a few rods in front of the regiments.
There was an open space between the Fifty-seventh and Fifty-third
regiments of Hildebrand&#8217;s brigade, and Waterhouse, under Sherman&#8217;s
direction, let fly his shells through the gap into the bushes. Taylor
wheeled his guns into position on both sides of the church.</p>

<p>Hindman, Cleburn, and Wood advanced into the gap between Sherman and
Prentiss, and swung towards the northwest upon Sherman&#8217;s left flank.
Ruggles, with his three brigades, and Hodgson&#8217;s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>battery of Louisiana
artillery, and Ketchum&#8217;s battery, moved upon Sherman&#8217;s front. He had
Gibson&#8217;s brigade on the right, composed of the Fourth, Thirteenth, and
Nineteenth Louisiana, and the First Arkansas. Anderson&#8217;s brigade was
next in line, containing the Seventeenth and Twentieth Louisiana, and
Ninth Texas, a Louisiana and a Florida battalion. Pond&#8217;s brigade was on
the left, and contained the Sixteenth and Eighteenth Louisiana,
Thirty-eighth Tennessee, and two Louisiana battalions.</p>

<p>When the alarm was given, General Sherman was instantly on his horse. He
sent a request to McClernand to support Hildebrand. He also sent word to
Prentiss that the enemy were in front, but Prentiss had already made the
discovery, and was contending with all his might against the avalanche
rolling upon him from the ridge south of his position. He sent word to
Hurlburt that a force was needed in the gap between the church and
Prentiss. He was everywhere present, dashing along his lines, paying no
attention to the constant fire aimed at him and his staff by the Rebel
skirmishers, within short musket range. They saw him, knew that he was
an officer of high rank, saw that he was bringing order out of
confusion, and tried to pick him off. While galloping down to
Hildebrand, his orderly, Halliday, was killed.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>The fire from the bushes was galling, and Hildebrand ordered the
Seventy-seventh and Fifty-seventh Ohio to drive out the Rebels. They
advanced, and were about to make a charge, when they saw that they were
confronted by Hardee&#8217;s line, moving down the slope. The sun was just
sending its morning rays through the forest, shining on the long line of
bayonets. Instead of advancing, Hildebrand fell back and took position
by Waterhouse, on the ridge. When Hildebrand advanced, two of
Waterhouse&#8217;s guns were sent across the brook, but they were speedily
withdrawn, not too soon, however, for they were needed to crush Hindman
and Cleburn who were crossing below Hildebrand.</p>

<p>Upon the south side of the brook there was a field and a crazy old
farm-house. Ruggles came into the field, halted, and began to form for a
rapid descent to the brook. His troops were in full view from the
church.</p>

<p>&#8220;Pay your respects to those fellows over there,&#8221; said Major Taylor to
the officer commanding his own battery. Taylor was chief of artillery in
Sherman&#8217;s division, and was not in immediate command of his own battery.
When he first saw them come into the field he thought they were not
Rebels, but some of Prentiss&#8217;s men, who had been out on the front. He
hesitated to open fire till it was ascertained who they were. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>He rode
down to Waterhouse, and told him to fire into the field. He galloped up
to McDowell&#8217;s brigade, where Barrett&#8217;s battery was stationed, and told
the officer commanding to do the same. In a moment the field was smoking
hot, shells bursting in the air, crashing through Ruggles&#8217;s ranks, and
boring holes in the walls of the dilapidated old cabin. The Rebels could
not face in the open field so severe a fire. Instead of advancing
directly against the church, they moved into the woods east of the
field, and became reinforcements to the brigades already well advanced
into the gap between Sherman and Prentiss.</p>

<p>They came up on Hildebrand&#8217;s left flank. The thick growth of hazel and
alders along the brook concealed their movements. They advanced till
they were not more than three hundred feet from the Fifty-third and
Fifty-seventh Ohio before they began their fire. They yelled like
demons, screeching and howling to frighten the handful of men supporting
Waterhouse. Taylor saw that they intended an attack upon Waterhouse. He
rode to the spot. &#8220;Give them grape and canister!&#8221; he shouted. It was
done. The iron hail swept through the bushes. The yelling suddenly
ceased. There were groans and moans instead. The advance in that
direction was instantly checked.</p>

<p>But all the while the centre brigades of Hardee were pushing into the
gap, and, without serious <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>opposition, were gaining Sherman&#8217;s left flank.
Waterhouse began to limber up his guns for a retreat. Taylor feared a
sudden panic.</p>

<p>&#8220;Contest every inch of ground. Keep cool. Give them grape. Let them have
all they want,&#8221; said Taylor.</p>

<p>Waterhouse unlimbered his guns again, wheeled them a little more to the
east, almost northeast, and opened a fire which raked the long lines and
again held them in check. Taylor sent to Schwartz, Dresser, and
McAllister, connected with McClernand&#8217;s division, to come into position
and stop the flank movement.</p>

<p>This took time. The Rebels, seeing their advantages, and hoping to cut
off Sherman, pushed on, and in five minutes were almost in rear of
Waterhouse and Hildebrand. They gained the ridge which enfiladed
Hildebrand. Cleburn and Wood swung up against Waterhouse. He wheeled
still farther north, working his guns with great rapidity. They rushed
upon him with the Indian war-whoop. His horses were shot. He tried to
drag off his guns. He succeeded in saving three, but was obliged to
leave the other three in their hands.</p>

<p>General McClernand had promptly responded to Sherman&#8217;s request to
support Hildebrand. Three regiments of Raitt&#8217;s and Marsh&#8217;s brigades were
brought round into position in rear of Hildebrand. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>You remember that
McClernand&#8217;s division was facing northwest, and this movement,
therefore, was a change of front to the southeast. The Eleventh Illinois
formed upon the right of Waterhouse. The other two, the Forty-third and
Thirtieth Illinois, were on the left, in rear. The fight was in
Hildebrand&#8217;s camp. There was a fierce contest. Two thirds of
Hildebrand&#8217;s men had been killed and wounded, or were missing. Most of
the missing had fled towards the river. The regiments that remained were
mixed up. The sudden onset had thrown them into confusion. There was but
little order. Each man fought for himself. It was a brave little band,
which tried to save the camp, but they were outnumbered and outflanked.
The Eleventh Illinois lost six or eight of its officers by the first
volley, yet they stood manfully against the superior force.</p>

<p>Meanwhile, Buckland and McDowell were in a hot fight against Anderson
and Pond, who had moved to the western border of the field, and were
forming against McDowell&#8217;s right. Barrett and Taylor were thundering
against them, but there were more cannon replying from the Rebel side.
They were so far round on McDowell&#8217;s flank, that the shells which flew
over the heads of McDowell&#8217;s men came past the church into Hildebrand&#8217;s
ranks. Sherman tried to hold his position by the church. He considered
it to be of the utmost importance. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>He did not want to lose his camp. He
exhibited great bravery. His horse was shot, and he mounted another.
That also was killed, and he took a third, and, before night, lost his
fourth. He encouraged his men, not only by his words, but by his
reckless daring. Buckland&#8217;s and McDowell&#8217;s men recovered from the shock
they first received. They became bull-dogs. Their blood was up. As often
as the Rebels attempted to crowd McDowell back, they defeated the
attempt. The two brigades with Taylor&#8217;s and Barrett&#8217;s batteries held
their ground till after ten o&#8217;clock, and they would not have yielded
then had it not been for disaster down the line.</p>

<p>Hildebrand rallied his men. About one hundred joined the Eleventh
Illinois, of McClernand&#8217;s division, and fought like tigers.</p>

<p>In the advance of Bragg&#8217;s line, Gibson&#8217;s brigade became separated from
Anderson and Pond, Gibson moving to the right towards Prentiss, and they
to the left towards Sherman. Several regiments of Polk&#8217;s line
immediately moved into the gap. It was a reinforcement of the centre,
but it was also a movement which tended to disorganize the Rebel lines.
Gibson became separated from his division commands, and the regiments
from Polk&#8217;s corps became disconnected from their brigades, but General
Bragg directed them to join General Hindman.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>They moved on towards McClernand, who was changing front and getting
into position a half-mile in rear of Sherman. They were so far advanced
towards Pittsburg Landing, that Sherman saw he was in danger of being
cut off. He reluctantly gave the order to abandon his camp and take a
new position. He ordered the batteries to fall back to the Purdy and
Hamburg road. He saw Buckland and McDowell, and told them where to
rally. Captain Behr had been posted on the Purdy road with his battery,
and had had but little part in the fight. He was falling back, closely
followed by Pond.</p>

<p>&#8220;Come into position out there on the right,&#8221; said Sherman, pointing to
the place where he wanted him to unlimber. There came a volley from the
woods. A shot struck the Captain from his horse. The drivers and gunners
became frightened, and rode off with the caissons, leaving five unspiked
guns to fall into the hands of the Rebels! Sherman and Taylor, and other
officers, by their coolness, bravery, and daring, saved Buckland and
McDowell&#8217;s brigades from a panic; and thus, after four hours of hard
fighting, Sherman was obliged to leave his camp and fall back behind
McClernand, who now was having a fierce fight with the brigades which
had pushed in between Prentiss and Sherman.</p>

<p>The Rebels rejoiced over their success. Their <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>loud hurrahs rose above
the din of battle. They rushed into the tents and helped themselves to
whatever they could lay their hands on, as had already been done in
Prentiss&#8217;s camps. Officers and men in the Rebel ranks alike forgot all
discipline. They threw off their old gray rags, and appeared in blue
uniforms. They broke open the trunks of the officers, and rifled the
knapsacks of the soldiers. They seized the half-cooked breakfast, and
ate like half-starved wolves. They found bottles of whiskey in some of
the officers&#8217; quarters, and drank, danced, sung, hurrahed, and were
half-crazy with the excitement of their victory.</p>

<p>Having taken this look at matters in the vicinity of the church, let us
go towards the river, and see the other divisions.</p>

<p>It was about half past six o&#8217;clock in the morning when General Hurlburt
received notice from General Sherman that the Rebels were driving in his
pickets. A few minutes later he had word from Prentiss asking for
assistance.</p>

<p>He sent Veatch&#8217;s brigade, which you remember consisted of the
Twenty-fifth Indiana, the Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and Forty-eighth
Illinois, to Sherman. The troops sprang into ranks as soon as the order
was issued, and were on the march in ten minutes.</p>

<p>Prentiss sent a second messenger, asking for immediate aid. Hurlburt in
person led his other <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>two brigades, Williams&#8217;s and Lauman&#8217;s. He had
Mann&#8217;s Ohio battery, commanded by Lieutenant Brotzman, Ross&#8217;s battery,
from Michigan, and Meyer&#8217;s Thirteenth Ohio battery. He marched out on
the Ridge road, and met Prentiss&#8217;s troops, disorganized and broken, with
doleful stories of the loss of everything. Prentiss and other officers
were attempting to rally them.</p>

<p>Hurlburt formed in line of battle on the border of an old cotton-field
on the Hamburg road. There were some sheds, and a log-hut with a great
chimney built of mud and sticks, along the road. In front of the hut was
a peach-orchard. Mann&#8217;s battery was placed near the northeast corner of
the field. Williams&#8217;s brigade was placed on one side of the field, and
Lauman&#8217;s on the other, which made the line nearly a right angle. Ross&#8217;s
battery was posted on the right, and Meyer&#8217;s on the left. This
disposition of his force enabled Hurlburt to concentrate his fire upon
the field and into the peach-orchard.</p>

<p>You see the position,&mdash;the long line of men in blue, in the edge of the
woods, sheltered in part by the giant oaks. You see the log-huts, the
mud chimney, the peach-trees in front, all aflame with pink blossoms.
The field is as smooth as a house floor. Here and there are handfuls of
cotton, the leavings of last year&#8217;s crop. It is perhaps forty or fifty
rods across the field to the forest <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>upon the other side. Hurlburt and
his officers are riding along the lines, cheering the men and giving
directions. The fugitives from Prentiss are hastening towards the
Landing. But a line of guards has been thrown out, and the men are
rallying behind Hurlburt. The men standing in line along that field know
that they are to fight a terrible battle. At first there is a little
wavering, but they gain confidence, load their guns, and wait for the
enemy.</p>

<p>Withers&#8217;s division, which had pushed back Prentiss, moved upon
Hurlburt&#8217;s right. Gage&#8217;s and Girardey&#8217;s batteries opened fire. The first
shot struck near Meyer&#8217;s battery. The men never before had heard the
shriek of a Rebel shell. It was so sudden, unexpected, and terrifying,
that officers and men fled, leaving their cannon, caissons, horses, and
everything. Hurlburt saw no more of them during the day. Indignant at
the manifestation of cowardice, he rode down to Mann&#8217;s battery, and
called for volunteers to work the abandoned guns; ten men responded to
the call. A few other volunteers were picked up, and although they knew
but little of artillery practice, took their places beside the guns and
opened fire. The horses with the caissons were dashing madly through the
forest, increasing the confusion, but they were caught and brought in.
You see that in battle men sometimes lose their presence <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>of mind, and
act foolishly. It is quite likely, however, that the troops fought all
the more bravely for this display of cowardice. Many who were a little
nervous, who had a strange feeling at the heart, did not like the
exhibition, and resolved that they would not run.</p>

<p>At this time the fortunes of the Union army were dark. Prentiss had been
routed. His command was a mere rabble. Hildebrand&#8217;s brigade of Sherman&#8217;s
division was broken to pieces; there was not more than half a regiment
left. The other two brigades of Sherman&#8217;s division by the church were
giving way. Half of Waterhouse&#8217;s battery, and all but one of Behr&#8217;s guns
were taken. Sherman and Prentiss had been driven from their camps. Four
of the six guns composing Meyer&#8217;s battery could not be used for want of
men. The three regiments which McClernand had sent to Sherman were badly
cut to pieces. The entire front had been driven in. Johnston had gained
a mile of ground. He had accomplished a great deal with little loss.</p>

<p>General Grant heard the firing at Savannah, ten miles down the river. It
was so constant and heavy that he understood at once it was an attack.
He sent a messenger post haste to General Buell, whose advance was ten
miles east of Savannah, and then hastened to Pittsburg on a steamboat.
He arrived on the ground about nine o&#8217;clock. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>Up to that hour there was
no commander-in-chief, but each division commander gave such orders as
he thought best. There was but little unity of action. Each commander
was impressed with a sense of danger, and each was doing his best to
hold the enemy in check.</p>

<p>The wide gap between Prentiss and Sherman, and the quick routing of
Prentiss&#8217;s regiments, enabled Hardee to push his middle brigades to the
centre of the Union army without much opposition. Both of Hardee&#8217;s
flanks had been held back by the stout fight of Sherman on one side, the
weaker resistance of Prentiss on the other. This gradually made the
Rebel force into the form of a wedge, and at the moment when Hurlburt
was waiting for their advance, the point of the wedge had penetrated
beyond Hurlburt&#8217;s right, but there it came against General W. H. L.
Wallace&#8217;s division.</p>

<p>When Hurlburt notified Wallace that Prentiss was attacked, that noble
commander ordered his division under arms. You remember his position,
near Snake Creek, and nearer the Pittsburg Landing than any other
division. He at once moved in the direction of the firing, which brought
him west of Hurlburt&#8217;s position.</p>

<p>You remember that General McClernand had sent three regiments to General
Sherman, and that they were obliged to change front. Having <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>done that,
he moved his other two brigades, the first under the command of Colonel
Hare, including the Eighth and Eighteenth Illinois infantry and the
Eleventh and Thirteenth Iowa, with Dresser&#8217;s battery, and the third
brigade with Schwartz&#8217;s and McAllister&#8217;s batteries. It was a complete
change of front. These movements of Wallace and McClernand were directly
against the two sides and the point of the wedge which Hardee was
driving. Wallace marched southwest, and McClernand swung round facing
southeast. They came up just in season to save Sherman from being cut
off and also to save Veatch&#8217;s brigade of Hurlburt&#8217;s division from being
overwhelmed.</p>

<p>McClernand&#8217;s head-quarters were in an old cotton-field. The camps of his
regiments extended across the field and into the forest on both sides.
He established his line on the south side of the field in the edge of
the forest, determined to save his camp if possible. His men had seen
hard fighting at Fort Donelson, and so had General Wallace&#8217;s men. They
were hardened to the scenes of battle, whereas Sherman&#8217;s, Prentiss&#8217;s,
and Hurlburt&#8217;s men were having their first experience. Schwartz,
McAllister, and Dresser had confronted the Rebels at Donelson, and so
had Major Cavender with his eighteen pieces, commanded by Captains
Stone, Richardson, and Walker.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>This is a long and intricate story, and I fear you will not be able to
understand it. The regiments at this hour were very much mixed up, and
as the battle continued they became more so. Later in the day there was
so much confusion that no correct account can ever be given of the
positions of the regiments. Thousands of you, I doubt not, had friends
in that battle, and you would like to know just where they stood. Let us
therefore walk the entire length of the line while the Rebels are
preparing for the second onset. Commencing on the extreme right, we find
Sherman reforming with his left flank a little in rear of McClernand&#8217;s
right. There is McDowell&#8217;s brigade on the right, the Sixth Iowa, Fourth
Illinois, and Forty-sixth Ohio. Buckland&#8217;s brigade next, the
Forty-eighth, Seventieth, and Seventy-second Ohio. A few men of
Hildebrand&#8217;s brigade, not five hundred in all, of the Fifty-third,
Fifty-seventh, and Seventy-sixth Ohio. Next the regiments of
McClernand&#8217;s division, the Eleventh Iowa, Eleventh, Twentieth,
Forty-eighth, Forty-fifth, Seventeenth, Twenty-ninth, Forty-ninth,
Forty-third, Eighth, and Eighteenth Illinois. Next Wallace&#8217;s division,
Seventh, Ninth, Twelfth, Fiftieth, and Fifty-second Illinois, the
Twelfth, Thirteenth Iowa, and the Twenty-fifth, Fifty-second, and
Fifty-sixth Indiana. I think that all of those regiments were there,
although it is possible that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>one or two of them had not arrived. These
are not all in the front line, but you see them in two lines. Some of
them lying down behind the ridges waiting the time when they can spring
up and confront the enemy.</p>

<p>Next in line you see Veatch&#8217;s brigade of Hurlburt&#8217;s division, the
Twenty-fifth Indiana, the Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and Forty-sixth
Illinois; then Williams&#8217;s brigade, the Third Iowa, the Twenty-eighth,
Thirty-second, and Forty-first Illinois, by the log-huts of the
cotton-field on the Hamburg road. Here are Cavender&#8217;s guns, eighteen of
them. Next is Lauman&#8217;s brigade,&mdash;not the one he commanded at Donelson in
the victorious charge, but one composed of the Thirty-first and
Forty-fourth Indiana, and the Seventeenth and Twenty-fifth Kentucky.</p>

<p>Behind Wallace and Hurlburt Prentiss is reforming his disorganized
regiments, the Twenty-first, Twenty-third, and Twenty-fifth Missouri,
Sixteenth and Eighteenth Wisconsin, and the Twelfth Michigan.</p>

<p>You remember that Stuart&#8217;s brigade of Sherman&#8217;s division was keeping
watch on the Hamburg road at the Lick Creek crossing, towards the river
from Prentiss. When Prentiss was attacked, he sent word to Stuart, who
ordered his brigade under arms at once. He waited for orders. He saw
after a while the Rebel <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196</a></span>bayonets gleaming through the woods between
himself and Prentiss. He placed the Seventy-first Ohio on the right, the
Fifty-fifth Illinois in the centre, and the Fifty-fourth on the left.
These three regiments compose his brigade, and complete the list of
those engaged in the fight on Sunday.</p>

<p>When the fight began in the morning, Stuart sent two companies across
the creek to act as skirmishers, but before they could scale the high
bluffs upon the south side, Statham&#8217;s and Bowen&#8217;s brigades, of
Breckenridge&#8217;s reserves, had possession of the ground, and they
returned. Statham&#8217;s batteries opened upon Stuart&#8217;s camp. Breckenridge
had moved round from his position in rear, and now formed the extreme
right of Johnston. There were eight regiments and a battery in front of
Stuart. The battery forced the Seventy-first Ohio from its position. It
retired to the top of the ridge behind its camp-ground, which Stuart
could have held against a superior force, had he not been outflanked.
The Seventy-first, without orders, abandoned the position, retreated
towards the Landing, and Stuart saw no more of them during the day.</p>

<p>He took a new position, with his two regiments, on the crest of the
hill. East of him was a ravine. Breckenridge sent a body of cavalry and
infantry across the creek to creep up this ravine, get in rear <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>of
Stuart&#8217;s left flank, and with the masses hurrying past his right cut him
off. Stuart determined to make a gallant resistance. He sent four
companies of the Fifty-fourth Ohio, who took their position at the head
of the ravine or gully which makes up from the creek towards the north.
They crept into the thick bushes, hid behind the trees, and commenced a
galling fire, forcing the cavalry back and stopping the advance of the
infantry. The remainder of his force kept Statham back on the front. His
line of fire was across an open field, and as often as Statham attempted
to cross it, he was sent back by the well-directed volleys. Stuart
received assurances from General McArthur, commanding one of Wallace&#8217;s
brigades, that he should be supported, but the supports could not be
spared from the centre. Stuart maintained his position more than two
hours, till his cartridge-boxes were emptied. When his ammunition
failed, Statham and Bowen made another rush upon his left, and he saw
that he must retreat or be taken prisoner. He fell back to Hurlburt&#8217;s
line, and formed the remnant of his brigade on the left, thus completing
the line of battle which was established at ten o&#8217;clock.</p>

<p><a name="tenoclock" id="tenoclock"></a></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">From Ten o&#8217;clock till Four.</span></h4>

<p>Generals Bragg and Polk directed the attack on McClernand and Wallace.
Pond&#8217;s brigade was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>northwest of the church, Anderson&#8217;s by the church,
Cleburn&#8217;s and Wood&#8217;s east of it. Hindman&#8217;s and the regiments of Polk&#8217;s
corps which had broken off from their brigades were in front of
Wallace&#8217;s right. These regiments belonged to Cheatham&#8217;s division. The
whole of his division was in front of Wallace.</p>

<p>Russell, Stewart, and Gibson were in front of Wallace&#8217;s left. Gladden,
Chalmers, and Jackson were on Hurlburt&#8217;s right, while Breckenridge,
having driven back Stuart, came up on his left.</p>

<p>The Rebels, confident of final victory, came up with great bravery, and
commenced attacking McClernand, but they were confronted by men equally
brave. Pond and Anderson charged upon the regiments on McClernand&#8217;s
right, but the charge was broken by the quick volleys of the Eleventh,
Twentieth, and Forty-eighth Illinois. Cleburn and Wood rushed upon the
Forty-fifth, Seventeenth, and Forty-ninth, which were in the centre of
the division, but were repulsed. Then they swung against the Eleventh
and Eighteenth, in front of McClernand&#8217;s head-quarters, but could not
break the line. For a half-hour more, they stood and fired at long
musket range. Dresser, McAllister, and Schwartz gave their batteries
full play, but were answered by the batteries planted around the church,
on the ground from which Sherman had been driven. Bragg advanced his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>men
to short musket range, fifteen to twenty rods distant. Trees were broken
off by the cannon-shot, splintered by the shells; branches were wrenched
from the trunks, the hazel-twigs were cut by the storm of leaden hail.
Many trees were struck fifty, sixty, and a hundred times. Officers and
men fell on both sides very fast. Polk&#8217;s brigades came up, and the
united forces rushed upon the batteries. There was a desperate struggle.
The horses were shot,&mdash;Schwartz lost sixteen, Dresser eighteen, and
McAllister thirty. The guns were seized,&mdash;Schwartz lost three,
McAllister two, and Dresser three. The infantry could not hold their
ground. They fell back, took a new position, and made another effort to
save their camp.</p>

<p>The woods rang with the hurrahs of the Rebels. The ground was thick with
their dead and wounded, but they were winning. They had the largest
army, and success stimulated them to make another attack. Bragg reformed
his columns.</p>

<p>McClernand&#8217;s second line of defence was near his camp. His men fought
bravely to save it. Polk&#8217;s brigades moved to the front, and charged upon
the line, but they were checked. McClernand charged upon them, and in
turn was repulsed. So the contest went on hour after hour.</p>

<p>Buckland and McDowell, of Sherman&#8217;s command, were too much exhausted and
disorganized <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>by their long contest in the morning to take much part in
this fight. They stood as reserves. Barrett and Taylor had used all
their ammunition, and could not aid.</p>

<p>McClernand&#8217;s right was unprotected. Bragg saw it, and moved round
Anderson&#8217;s, Pond&#8217;s, and a portion of Stewart&#8217;s brigades. There was a
short struggle, and then the troops gave way. The men ran in confusion
across the field swept by the Rebel artillery. The pursuers, with
exultant cheers, followed, no longer in order, but each Rebel soldier
running for the plunder in the tents. The contest was prolonged a little
on the left, but the camp was in the hands of the Rebels, and McClernand
and Sherman again fell back towards Wallace&#8217;s camp.</p>

<p>Wallace was already engaged. The tide which had surged against Sherman
and McClernand now came with increased force against his division.
Beauregard aimed for the Landing, to seize the transports, using his
force as a wedge to split the Union army off from the river. He might
have deflected his force to Grant&#8217;s right, and avoided what, as you will
presently see, prevented him from accomplishing his object; but having
been thus far successful in his plan, he continued the direct advance.</p>

<p>General Wallace was a very brave man. He was cool, had great presence of
mind, and possessed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>the rare qualification of making his soldiers feel
his presence. He could bring order out of confusion, and by a word, a
look, or an act inspire his men. He posted Cavender&#8217;s three batteries in
commanding positions on a ridge, and kept his infantry well under cover
behind the ridge. Cavender&#8217;s men had fought under the brave General Lyon
at Wilson&#8217;s Creek in Missouri, and had been in half a dozen battles. The
screaming of the shells was music to them.</p>

<p>From eleven till four o&#8217;clock the battle raged in front of Wallace. The
men who had fought their first battle so determinedly at Donelson were
not to be driven now.</p>

<p>Four times Hardee, Bragg, and Cheatham rushed upon Wallace&#8217;s line, but
were in each instance repulsed. Twice Wallace followed them as they
retired after their ineffectual attempts to crush him, but he had not
sufficient power to break their triple ranks. He could hold his ground,
but he could not push the superior force. His coolness, endurance,
bravery, stubbornness, his quick perception of all that was taking
place, his power over his men, to make each man a hero, did much towards
saving the army on that disastrous day.</p>

<p>General Bragg says: &#8220;Hindman&#8217;s command was gallantly led to the attack,
but recoiled under a murderous fire. The noble and gallant leader
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>(Hindman) fell severely wounded. The command returned to its work, but
was unequal to the heavy task. I brought up Gibson&#8217;s brigade, and threw
them forward to attack the same point. A very heavy fire soon opened,
and after a short conflict this command fell back in considerable
disorder. Rallying the different regiments by my staff officers and
escort, they were twice more moved to the attack only to be driven
back.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p>

<p>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&#8217;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.</p>

<p>General Breckenridge rode up to General Johnston and conversed with him.</p>

<p>&#8220;I will lead your men into the fight to-day, for I intend to show these
Tennesseeans and Kentuckians that I am no coward,&#8221; said Johnston to
Breckenridge.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p>

<p>The people of the Southwest thought he was a coward, because he had
abandoned Nashville without a fight.</p>

<p>Breckenridge brought up Statham&#8217;s and Bowen&#8217;s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>brigades 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&#8217;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.</p>

<p>Breckenridge sent his special aid to General Johnston for
instructions.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> As the aid rode up, a shell exploded above the General
and his staff. A fragment cut through General Johnston&#8217;s right thigh,
severing an artery. He was taken from his horse, and died on the field
at half past two o&#8217;clock.</p>

<p>General Beauregard assumed command, and gave orders to keep General
Johnston&#8217;s death a secret, that the troops might not be discouraged.</p>

<p>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&#8217;s regiments fired away all their ammunition, and
Prentiss who had rallied <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>his men, advanced to the front while the
cartridge-boxes were refilled.</p>

<p>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:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;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&#8217;s
division of Major-General Polk&#8217;s command to their left and rear. The
troops were soon put in motion again, responding with great alacrity to
the command, &#8216;Forward!&#8217;&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p>

<p>Just at this moment General Wallace, on the right, was mortally wounded.</p>

<p>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&#8217;s camp
fell into the hands of the Rebels.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>Of this movement General Bragg says: &#8220;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&#8217;s and Pond&#8217;s brigades of his division.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p>

<p>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&#8217;s. Beauregard had redeemed his
promise. They could sleep in the enemy&#8217;s camps.</p>

<p><a name="evening" id="evening"></a></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">Sunday Evening.</span></h4>

<p>Look at the situation of General Grant&#8217;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. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>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.</p>

<p>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. &#8220;We shall hold them yet,&#8221;
says General Grant.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>&#8220;Tell Captain Gwin to use his own discretion and judgment,&#8221; is the
reply.</p>

<p>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 had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>no 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.</p>

<p>Colonel Webster, General Grant&#8217;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 is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>no 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.</p>

<p><a name="ravine" id="ravine"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 484px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i216.jpg" class="ispace jpg" width="484" height="400" alt="The Fight at the Ravine." title="" />
<span class="caption">The Fight at the Ravine.</span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="5" summary="RAVINE">

<tr><td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Union batteries.</td>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Gunboats.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Rebel batteries.</td>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">Transports.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Ravine.</td>
<td>&nbsp;</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>Commencing nearest the river, on the ridge of the ravine, you see two of
McAllister&#8217;s twenty-four-pounders, next four of Captain Stone&#8217;s ten
pounders, then Captain Walker with one twenty-pounder, then Captain
Silversparre with four <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>twenty-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&#8217;s battery
of four twenty-pounder Parrott guns; then a six-pounder and two
twelve-pound howitzers of Captain Powell&#8217;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,&mdash;Taylor&#8217;s, Willard&#8217;s, and what is left of Schwartz&#8217;s
battery, and Mann&#8217;s, Dresser&#8217;s, and Ross&#8217;s,&mdash;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.</p>

<p>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, Tennessee <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>redeemed. 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!</p>

<p>Beauregard&#8217;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: &#8220;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.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p>

<p>Chalmers&#8217;s brigade was on the extreme right. What was left of Jackson&#8217;s
came next. Breckenridge, with his shattered brigades, was behind
Chalmers. Trabue, commanding a brigade of Kentuckians, was comparatively
fresh. Withers&#8217;s, Cheatham&#8217;s, and Ruggles&#8217;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, &#8220;Forward, boys, and drive them into the Tennessee.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p>

<p>The Rebel cannon open. A sulphurous cloud <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>borders 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,&mdash;all the springs of life broken
in an instant.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>&#8220;Grape and canister now!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Give them double charges!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Lower your guns!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Quick! Fire!&#8221;</p>

<p>The words run along the line. Moments are ages now. Seconds are years.
How fast men <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>live 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.</p>

<p>General Chalmers says: &#8220;We received orders from General Bragg to drive
the enemy into the river. My brigade, together with General Jackson&#8217;s
brigade, filed to the right, formed facing the river, and endeavored to
press forward to the water&#8217;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.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p>

<p>Says Colonel Fagan, of the First Arkansas, of Gibson&#8217;s brigade:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;Three different times did we go into that &#8216;Valley of Death,&#8217; 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.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></p>

<p>Colonel Allen, of the Fourth Louisiana, says:&mdash;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>&#8220;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.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>He has done a good day&#8217;s work. His men have fought well, but they are
exhausted. Tomorrow morning he will finish General Grant. Thus he
reasons.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p>

<p>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 the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>Stars and Stripes. There is a buzz, a
commotion, among the thousands by the river-side.</p>

<p>&#8220;It is Buell&#8217;s advance!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!&#8221;</p>

<p>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&#8217;s division. McCook&#8217;s and Crittenden&#8217;s divisions are
at Savannah. Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division from Crump&#8217;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.</p>

<p>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 on <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>board
McCook&#8217;s and Crittenden&#8217;s divisions of Buell&#8217;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.</p>

<p>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&#8217;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.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p>
<h4><span class="smcap">Monday.</span></h4>

<p>Beauregard laid his plans to begin the attack at daybreak. Grant and
Buell resolved to do the same,&mdash;not to stand upon the defensive, but to
astonish Beauregard by advancing. Nelson&#8217;s division was placed on the
left, nearest the river, Crittenden&#8217;s next, McCook&#8217;s beyond, and Lewis
Wallace on the extreme right,&mdash;all fresh troops,&mdash;with Grant&#8217;s other
divisions, which had made such a stubborn resistance, in reserve.</p>

<p>In General Nelson&#8217;s division, you see nearest the river Colonel Ammen&#8217;s
brigade, consisting of the Thirty-sixth Indiana, Sixth and Twenty-fourth
Ohio; next, Colonel Bruer&#8217;s brigade, First, Second, and Twentieth
Kentucky; next, Colonel Hazen&#8217;s brigade, Ninth Indiana, Sixth Kentucky,
and Forty-first Ohio. Colonel Ammen&#8217;s brigade arrived in season to take
part in the contest at the ravine on Sunday evening.</p>

<p>General Crittenden&#8217;s division had two brigades: General Boyle&#8217;s and
Colonel W. L. Smith&#8217;s. General Boyle had the Nineteenth and Fifty-ninth
Ohio, and Ninth and Thirteenth Kentucky. Colonel Smith&#8217;s was composed of
the Thirteenth Ohio, and Eleventh and Twenty-sixth Kentucky, with
Mendenhall&#8217;s battery, belonging to the United States Regular Army, and
Bartlett&#8217;s Ohio battery.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>General McCook&#8217;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.</p>

<p>General Lewis Wallace&#8217;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&#8217;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,&mdash;the First Nebraska, Twenty-third and Sixty-eighth
Ohio, with Thompson&#8217;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.</p>

<p>Two brigades of General Wood&#8217;s division arrived <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>during the day, but not
in season to take part in the battle.</p>

<p>Beauregard&#8217;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.</p>

<p>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&#8217;s brigade of Breckenridge&#8217;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&#8217;s division. Gladden&#8217;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&#8217;s camp. Cheatham was
in the vicinity, but his regiments were dwindled to companies, and
scattered over all the ground.</p>

<p>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. Although <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>exhausted, 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.</p>

<p>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&#8217;s line gave way.</p>

<p>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&#8217;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.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>It astonished General Beauregard. He had not expected it. He was to
attack and annihilate Grant, not be attacked and driven.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> He ordered
up fresh troops from his reserves, and the contest raged with increased
fury.</p>

<p>Nelson, seeing the effect of Mendenhall&#8217;s fire, threw Hazen&#8217;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.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> 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,&mdash;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.</p>

<p>&#8220;Send me another battery, quick!&#8221; was his request, made to General
Buell.</p>

<p>Tirrell&#8217;s battery, which had just landed from a steamer, went up the
hill, through the woods, over stumps and trees, the horses leaping as if
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>they had caught the enthusiasm of the commander of the battery. Captain
Tirrell had a quick eye.</p>

<p>&#8220;Into position there. Lively, men! Caissons to the rear!&#8221; 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.</p>

<p>&#8220;Fire with shell, two-second fuses,&#8221; he said to the lieutenants
commanding his two ten-pounder Parrott guns.</p>

<p>&#8220;Grape and canister,&#8221; 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&#8217;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.</p>

<p>Crittenden and McCook advanced a little later. They came upon the enemy,
which had quiet possession of McClernand&#8217;s and Sherman&#8217;s camps.
Beauregard&#8217;s head-quarters were there. The Rebels, finding themselves
assailed, made a desperate <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>effort 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s brigade. They are upon the run. They halt,
dress their ranks as if upon parade, and charge upon the Rebels. Colonel
Stambough&#8217;s Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania follows. Then all of Kirk&#8217;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&#8217;s third brigade, General Gibson, comes
up. Rousseau is ready again, and at eleven o&#8217;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&#8217;s division, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>If I were to go through all the details, as I might, and write how
Crittenden&#8217;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&#8217;s
division flanked the enemy at Owl Creek; how <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>Rousseau&#8217;s brigade fought
in front of McClernand&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>hundreds of his wounded on
the field; how the Union army recovered all the cannon lost on
Sunday;&mdash;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.</p>

<p>It was a terrible fight. The loss on each side was nearly equal,&mdash;about
thirteen thousand killed, wounded, and missing, or twenty-six thousand
in all.</p>

<p>I had a friend killed in the fight on Sunday,&mdash;Captain Carson,
commanding General Grant&#8217;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.</p>

<p>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. Beauregard <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>was completely defeated; but
he telegraphed to Jefferson Davis that he had won a great victory. This
is what he telegraphed&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p class="right">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Corinth</span>, April 8th, 1862.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">&#8220;To the Secretary of War, Richmond</span>:&mdash;<br />

&#8220;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.</p>

<p class="right">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Beauregard.</span>&#8221;</p></div>

<p>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.</p>

<p>The Rebel newspapers believed Beauregard&#8217;s report. One began its account
thus:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;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.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p></div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>One of the chaplains, in conducting the service, read a hymn,
commencing:</p>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox"><div class="poem">
<span class="i0">&#8220;Look down, O Lord, O Lord forgive;</span><br />
<span class="i0">Let a repenting rebel live.&#8221;</span></div></div>

<p>But he was suddenly interrupted by a patriotic soldier, who cried, &#8220;No
sir, not unless they lay down their arms, every one of them.&#8221;</p>

<p>He thought the chaplain had reference to the Rebels who had been
defeated.</p>

<p>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 the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>graves. 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.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2>

<h3>EVACUATION OF COLUMBUS.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span>
Rebels, 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,&mdash;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.</p>

<p>They cut down the trees and made <i>abatis</i>. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>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.</p>

<p><a name="torpedo" id="torpedo"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i239.jpg" class="ispace jpg" width="437" height="400" alt="A Rebel Torpedo." title="" />
<span class="caption">A Rebel Torpedo.</span>
</div>

<p>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&#8217;s gunboats. He had
several thousand made,&mdash;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
hundred <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>pounds 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.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>The taking of Fort Donelson compelled the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>Rebels to evacuate
Columbus,&mdash;the Gibraltar of the Mississippi, as they called it,&mdash;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.</p>

<p>&#8220;Perhaps we shall have hot work,&#8221; he said, as I stepped on board in the
evening of the 3d.</p>

<p>&#8220;We shall move at four o&#8217;clock,&#8221; said Captain Stemble, commanding the
ship, &#8220;and shall be at Columbus at daybreak.&#8221;</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>&#8220;We are approaching Columbus,&#8221; 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.</p>

<p>Commodore Foote was on the upper deck, walking with crutches, still lame
from the wound received at Donelson.</p>

<p>&#8220;I always feel an exhilaration of spirits before going into a fight. I
don&#8217;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,&#8221; said the Commodore.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>One by one the boats came down. The morning brightened. We could see men
on the bluff, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>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.</p>

<p>&#8220;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,&#8221; said General Sherman.</p>

<p>&#8220;I will make a reconnoissance with a party of soldiers,&#8221; he added. He
jumped on board his tug, and went off to get his soldiers.</p>

<p>&#8220;Captain Phelps, you will please to take my tug and drop down also,&#8221;
said Commodore Foote. &#8220;If you are willing to run the risk, you are at
liberty to accompany Captain Phelps,&#8221; were his words to me. What is a
thing worth that costs nothing?</p>

<p>We drop down the stream slowly and cautiously.</p>

<p>&#8220;We are in easy range. If the Rebels are there, they could trouble us,&#8221;
says Captain Phelps.</p>

<p>We drop nearer. The flag is still waving. The man holding it swings his
hat.</p>

<p>They are not Rebels, but Union cavalry! Away we dash. The other tug,
with General Sherman, is close behind.</p>

<p>&#8220;A little more steam! Lay her in quick!&#8221; says Captain Phelps.</p>

<p>He is not to be beaten. We jump ashore, scramble up the bank ahead of
all the soldiers, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>reach the upper works, and fling out the Stars and
Stripes to the bright morning sunshine on the abandoned works of the
Rebel Gibraltar!</p>

<p>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,&mdash;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&#8217;s torpedoes,&mdash;old iron now. We wander over the town, along the
fortifications, view the strong defences, and wonder that the Rebels
gave it up,&mdash;defended as it was by one hundred and twenty guns,&mdash;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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>

<h3>OPERATIONS AT NEW MADRID.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">here</span>
are 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&#8217;s throw of
the Tennessee shore. The bank on that side of the stream is also about
fifteen or twenty feet above high water.</p>

<p>The Rebels, before commencing their works at Columbus, saw that Island
No. 10 was a very strong position, and commenced fortifications <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>there.
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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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 the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>3d of March, the day on which we
raised the flag on the heights at Columbus.</p>

<p><a name="islandten" id="islandten"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 369px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i247.jpg" class="jpg ispace" width="369" height="500" alt="Island No. 10." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Island No. 10.</span></span>
</div>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox"><div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="ISLAND10">

<tr>
<td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Commodore Foote&#8217;s fleet.</td>
<td align="right">4</td>
<td align="left">Rebel boats.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">2</td>
<td align="left">Island No. 10 and Rebel floating-battery.</td>
<td align="right">5</td>
<td align="left">2 Forts at New Madrid.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">3</td>
<td align="left">Shore batteries.</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>The Rebels had completed their forts. The one above the town mounted
fourteen heavy guns, and the one below it seven. Both were strong works,
with bastions and angles, and ditches that could be swept by an
enfilading fire. There was a line of intrenchments between the two
forts, enclosing the town.</p>

<p>There were five regiments of infantry and several batteries of
artillery, commanded by General McCown, at New Madrid. General Mackall
was sent up by Beauregard to direct the defence there and at Island No.
10. When he arrived, he issued an address to the soldiers. He said:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;Soldiers: We are strangers, commander and commanded, each to the other.
Let me tell you who I am. I am a General made by Beauregard,&mdash;a General
selected by Beauregard and Bragg for this command, when they knew it was
in peril.</p>

<p>&#8220;They have known me for twenty years; together we stood on the fields of
Mexico. Give them your confidence now; give it to me when I have earned
it.</p>

<p>&#8220;Soldiers: The Mississippi Valley is intrusted to your courage, to your
discipline, to your patience; exhibit the coolness and vigilance you
have heretofore, and hold it.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p>

<p>They thought they could hold the place. A Rebel officer wrote, on the
11th of March, to his friends thus: &#8220;General Mackall has put the rear <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>in
effective defence. The forts are impregnable. All are hopeful and ready.
We will make this an American Thermopyl&aelig;, if necessary.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p>

<p>By this he intended to say that they would all die before they would
surrender the place, and would make New Madrid as famous in history as
that narrow mountain-pass in Greece, where the immortal three hundred
under Leonidas fought the Persian host.</p>

<p>The Rebels had several gunboats on the river, each carrying three or
four guns. The river was very high, and its banks overflowed. The
country is level for miles around, and it was an easy matter for the
gunboats to throw shells over the town into the woods upon General
Pope&#8217;s army. The Rebels had over sixty pieces of heavy artillery, while
General Pope had only his light field artillery; but he sent to Cairo
for siege-guns, meanwhile driving in the enemy&#8217;s pickets and investing
the place.</p>

<p>He detached Colonel Plummer, of the Eleventh Missouri, with three
regiments and a battery of rifled Parrott guns, to take possession of
Point Pleasant, ten miles farther down. The order was admirably
executed. Colonel Plummer planted his guns, threw up intrenchments, and
astonished the Rebels by sending his shells into a steamboat which was
passing up with supplies.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>Commodore Hollins, commanding the Rebel gunboats, made all haste down to
find out what was going on. He rained shot and shell all day long upon
Colonel Plummer&#8217;s batteries, but could not drive him from the position
he had selected. He had made holes in the ground for his artillery, and
the Rebel shot did him no injury. Hollins began at long range, then
steamed up nearer to the batteries, but Plummer&#8217;s artillerymen, by their
excellent aim, compelled him to withdraw. The next day Hollins tried it
again, but with no better success. The river was effectually blockaded.
No Rebel transport could get up, and those which were at Island No. 10
and New Madrid could not get down, without being subjected to a heavy
fire.</p>

<p>General Mackall determined to hold New Madrid, and reinforced the place
from Island No. 10, till he had about nine thousand troops. On the 11th
of March four siege-guns were sent to General Pope. He received them at
sunset. Colonel Morgan&#8217;s brigade was furnished with spades and
intrenching tools. General Stanley&#8217;s division was ordered under arms, to
support Morgan. The force advanced towards the town at dark, drove in
the Rebel pickets, secured a favorable position within eight hundred
yards of the fort. The men worked all night, and in the morning had two
breastworks thrown up, each eighteen feet thick, and five feet high,
with a smaller <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>breastwork, called a curtain, connecting the two. This
curtain was nine hundred feet long, nine feet thick, and three feet
high. On each side of the breastworks, thrown out like wings was a line of
rifle-pits. Wooden platforms were placed behind the breastworks, and the
guns all mounted by daylight. Colonel Bissell, of the engineers, managed
it all. In thirty-four hours from the time he received the guns at
Cairo, he had shipped them across the Mississippi River, loaded them on
railroad cars, taken them to Sykestown, twenty miles, mounted them on
carriages, then dragged them twenty miles farther, through almost
impassable mud, and had them in position within eight hundred yards of
the river! The work was done so quietly that the Rebel pickets did not
mistrust what was going on. At daybreak they opened fire upon what they
supposed was a Union rifle-pit, and were answered by a shell from a
rifled thirty-two pounder.</p>

<p>It was a foggy morning. The air was still, and the deep thunder rolled
far away along the wooded stream. It woke up the slumbering garrison.
Commodore Hollins heard it, and immediately there was commotion among
the Rebel gunboats. They came to New Madrid. Hollins placed them in
position above the town to open fire. The fog lifted, and all the guns
of the fleet and the forts began to play upon the breastworks. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>General
Pope brought up his heavy field guns, and replied. He paid but little
attention to the fort, but sent his shot and shell at the gunboats.
Captain Mower, of the First United States artillery, commanded the
batteries, and his fire was so accurate that the gunboats were obliged
to take new positions. Shortly after the cannonade began, a shot from
the fort struck one of Captain Mower&#8217;s thirty-two pounders in the muzzle
and disabled it; but he kept up his fire through the day, dismounting
three guns in the lower fort and disabling two of the gunboats. Nearly
all of the shells from the Rebel batteries fell harmlessly into the soft
earth. There were very few of General Pope&#8217;s men injured. They soon
became accustomed to the business, and paid but little attention to the
screaming of the shot and the explosions of the shells. They had many
hearty laughs, as the shells which burst in the ground frequently
spattered them with mud.</p>

<p>There was one soldier in one of the Ohio regiments who was usually
profane and wicked; but he was deeply impressed with the fact that so
few were injured by such a terrific fire, and at night said to his
comrades, seriously: &#8220;Boys, there is no use denying it; God has watched
over us to-day.&#8221;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>His comrades also noticed that he did not swear that night.</p>

<p>Just at night, General Paine&#8217;s division made a demonstration towards the
lower fort, driving in the enemy&#8217;s pickets. General Paine advanced
almost to the ditch in front of the fort. Preparations were made to hold
the ground, but during the night there came up a terrific thunder-storm
and hurricane, which stopped all operations.</p>

<p>The Twenty-seventh and Thirty-ninth Ohio, and the Tenth and Sixteenth
Illinois, were the grand guard for the night. They had been under fire
all day. They had endured the strain upon their nerves, but through the
long night-hours they stood in the drenching rain, beneath the sheets of
lurid flame, looking with sleepless eyes towards the front, prepared to
repel a sortie or challenge spies.</p>

<p>At daybreak there was no enemy in sight. The fort was deserted. A
citizen of the town came out with a flag of truce. The General who had
called upon his men in high-sounding words, the officer who was going to
make New Madrid a Thermopyl&aelig;, and himself a Leonidas in history,&mdash;the
nine thousand infantry had gone! Two or three soldiers were found
asleep. They rubbed their eyes and stared wildly when they were told
that they were prisoners, that their comrades and commander had fled.</p>

<p>During the thunder-storm, the Rebel gunboats and steamers had taken the
troops on board, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>ferried them to the Tennessee shore near Island No.
10. They spiked their heavy guns, but Colonel Bissell&#8217;s engineers were
quickly at work, and in a few hours had the guns ready for use again.</p>

<p>The Rebels left an immense amount of corn, in bags, and a great quantity
of ammunition. They tumbled their wagons into the river.</p>

<p>General Pope set his men to work, and before night the guns which had
been pointed inland were wheeled the other way. He sent a messenger to
Commodore Foote, with this despatch:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;All right! River closed! No escape for the enemy by water.&#8221;</div>

<p>All this was accomplished with the loss of seven killed and forty-three
wounded. By these operations against New Madrid, and by the battle at
Pea Ridge, in the southwestern part of the State, which was fought about
the same time, the Rebels were driven from Missouri!</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2>

<h3>OPERATIONS AT ISLAND NUMBER TEN.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">C</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ommodore</span>
Foote, having repaired the gunboats disabled at Fort Donelson,
sailed from Cairo the day that New Madrid fell into the hands of General
Pope. He had seven gunboats and ten mortars, besides several tugs and
transports. Colonel Buford, with fifteen hundred troops, accompanied the
expedition.</p>

<p>The mortars were untried. They were the largest ever brought into use at
that time, weighing nineteen thousand pounds, and throwing a shell
thirteen inches in diameter. The accompanying diagram will perhaps give
you an idea of their appearance. You see the mortar mounted on its
carriage, or bed as it is called. The figures 1, 1 represent one cheek
of the bed, a thick wrought-iron plate. The figures 2, 2 represent the
heads of the bolts which connect the cheek in view to the one on the
other side. The bed stands on thick timbers, represented by 3, and the
timbers rest on heavy sleepers, 4. Figure 5 represents a thick strap of
iron which clasps the trunion <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>or axis of the mortar, and holds it in its
place. This strap is held by two other straps, 6, 6, all iron, and very
strong. The figure 7 represents what is called a bolster. You see it is
in the shape of a wedge. It is used to raise or depress the muzzle of
the mortar. The figure 8 represents what is called a quoin, and keeps
the bolster in its place. The figure 9 represents one of the many bolts
by which the whole is kept in place on the boat.</p>

<p><a name="mortar" id="mortar"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i256.jpg" class="ispace" width="500" height="274" alt="A Mortar" title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Mortar.</span></span>
</div>

<p>The boat is built like a raft, of thick timbers, laid crosswise and
bolted firmly together. It is about thirty feet long and twelve wide,
and has iron plates around its sides to screen the men from Rebel
sharpshooters. The mortar is more than four feet in diameter. It is
thicker than it is long. To fire a mortar accurately requires a good
knowledge of mathematics, of the relations <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>of curves to straight lines,
for the shell is fired into the air at an angle of thirty or forty
degrees. The gunner must calculate the distance from the mortar to the
enemy in a straight line, and then elevate or lower the muzzle to drop
his shell not too near, neither too far away. He must calculate the time
it will take for the shell to describe the curve through the air. Then
he must make his fuses of the right length to have the shell explode at
the proper time, either high in the air, that its fragments may rain
down on the encampment of the enemy, or close down to the ground among
the men working the guns. It requires skill and a great deal of practice
to do all this.</p>

<p>The mortar flotilla was commanded by Captain Henry E. Maynadier,
assisted by Captain E. B. Pike of the engineers. There were four Masters
of Ordnance, who commanded each four mortars. Each mortar-boat had a
crew of fifteen men; three of them were Mississippi flatboatmen, who
understood all about the river, the currents and the sand-bars.</p>

<p>Commodore Foote&#8217;s flotilla consisted of the Benton, 16 guns, which was
his flag-ship, covered all over with iron plates, and commanded by
Captain Phelps; the Mound City, 13 guns, commanded by Captain Kelty; the
Carondelet, 13 guns, Lieutenant Walke; the Cincinnati, 13 guns, Captain
Stemble; the St. Louis, 13 guns, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>Captain Dove; the Louisville, 13 guns,
Lieutenant Paulding; the Pittsburg, 13 guns, Lieutenant Thompson; the
Conestoga, 9 guns, Lieutenant Blodgett; in all, 103 guns and 10 mortars.
The Conestoga was used to guard the ammunition-boats, and took no part
in the active operations. Commodore Foote had several small steam-tugs,
which were used as tenders, to carry orders from boat to boat.</p>

<p>The Southern people thought that Island No. 10 could not be taken. On
the 6th of March a newspaper at Memphis said:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;For the enemy to get possession of Memphis and the Mississippi Valley
would require an army of greater strength than Secretary Stanton can
concentrate upon the banks of the Mississippi River. The gunboats in
which they have so much confidence have proved their weakness. They
cannot stand our guns of heavy calibre. The approach of the enemy by
land to New Madrid induces us to believe that the flotilla is one grand
humbug, and that it is not ready, and does not intend to descend the
river. Foote, the commander of the Federal fleet, served his time under
Commodore Hollins, and should he attempt to descend the river, Hollins
will teach him that some things can be done as well as others.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></div>

<p>On Saturday, the 15th of March, the fleet approached <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>the island. The
clouds were thick and lowering. The rain pattered on the decks of the
gunboats, the fog settled upon the river. As the boats swept round a
point of land, the old river pilot, who was on the watch, who knew every
crook, turn, sand-bar, and all the objects along the bank, sung out,
&#8220;Boat ahead!&#8221;</p>

<p>The sailors scrambled to the portholes; Captain Phelps sprang from the
cabin to the deck.</p>

<p>There she was, a steamer, just visible through the fog a mile ahead. It
was the Grampus, owned by Captain Chester of the steamer Alps, who had
two of the mortar-boats in tow. He belonged to Pittsburg, and used to
carry coal to Memphis. When the war broke out the Rebels seized his
steamboats and his coal-barges, and refused to pay him for the coal they
had already purchased. The act roused all his ire. He was a tall,
athletic man, and had followed the river thirty years. Although
surrounded by enemies, he gave them plain words.</p>

<p>&#8220;You are a set of thieves and rascals! You are cowards, every one of
you!&#8221; he shouted.</p>

<p>He took off his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, bared his great
brawny arms, dashed his hat upon the ground.</p>

<p>&#8220;Now come on! I&#8217;ll fight every one of you, you infernal rascals! I&#8217;ll
whip you all! I challenge you to fight me! You call yourselves
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>chivalrous people. You say you believe in fair play. If I whip, you
shall give up my boats, but if I am beaten, you are welcome to them.&#8221;</p>

<p>They laughed in his face, and said: &#8220;Blow away, old fellow. We have got
your boats. Help yourself if you can.&#8221;</p>

<p>A hot-headed secessionist cried out, &#8220;Hang the Yankee!&#8221;</p>

<p>The crowd hustled him about, but he had a few old friends, who took his
part, and he succeeded in making his escape.</p>

<p>Captain Phelps looked a moment at the Grampus. He saw her wheels move.
She was starting off.</p>

<p>&#8220;Out with the starboard gun! Give her a shot!&#8221;</p>

<p>Lieutenant Bishop runs his eye along the sights of the great eleven-inch
gun, which has been loaded and run out of the porthole in a twinkling.</p>

<p>There is a flash. A great cloud puffs out into the fog, and the shot
screams through the air and is lost to sight. We cannot see where it
fell. Another&mdash;another. Boom!&mdash;boom!&mdash;boom!&mdash;from the Cincinnati and
Carondelet. But the Grampus is light-heeled. The distance widens. You
can hardly see her, and at last she vanishes like a ghost from sight.</p>

<p>We were not more than four or five miles from the head of the island.
One by one the boats <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>rounded to along the Kentucky shore. The sailors
sprang upon the land, carrying out the strong warps, and fastening us to
the trunks of the buttonwood-trees.</p>

<p>There was a clearing and a miserable log-hut near by. The family had
fled, frightened by the cannonade. We found them cowering in the
woods,&mdash;a man, his wife and daughter. The land all around them was
exceedingly rich, but they were very poor. All they had to eat was hog
and hominy. They had been told that the Union troops would rob them of
all they had, which was not likely, because they had nothing worth
stealing! They were trembling with fear, but when they found the
soldiers and sailors well-behaved and peaceable, they forgot their
terror.</p>

<p>The fog lifts at last, and we can see the white tents of the Rebels on
the Tennessee shore. There are the batteries, with the cannon grim and
black pointing up stream. Round the point of land is the island. A
half-dozen steamboats lie in the stream below it. At times they steam up
to the bend and then go back again,&mdash;wandering back and forth like rats
in a cage. They cannot get past General Pope&#8217;s guns at New Madrid. On
the north side of the island is a great floating-battery of eight guns,
which has been towed up from New Orleans. General Mackall has sunk a
steamboat in a narrow part of the channel on the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>north side of the
island, so that if Commodore Foote attempts to run the blockade he will
be compelled to pass along the south channel, exposed to the fire of all
the guns in the four batteries upon the Tennessee shore, as well as
those upon the island.</p>

<p>Two of the mortar-boats were brought into position two miles from the
Rebel batteries. We waited in a fever of expectation while Captain
Maynadier was making ready, for thirteen-inch mortars had never been
used in war. The largest used by the French and English in the
bombardment of Sebastopol were much smaller.</p>

<p>There came a roar like thunder. It was not a sharp, piercing report, but
a deep, heavy boom, which rolled along the mighty river, echoing and
re-echoing from shore to shore,&mdash;a prolonged reverberation, heard fifty
miles away. A keg of powder was burned in the single explosion. The
shell rose in a beautiful curve, exploded five hundred feet high, and
fell in fragments around the distant encampment.</p>

<p>There was a flash beneath the dark forest-trees near the encampment, a
puff of white smoke, an answering roar, and a shot fell into the water a
half-mile down stream from the mortars. The Rebels had accepted the
challenge.</p>

<p>Sunday came. The boats having the mortars in tow dropped them along the
Missouri shore. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>The gunboats swung into the stream. The Benton fired her
rifled guns over the point of land at the Rebel steamboats below the
island. There was a sudden commotion. They quickly disappeared down the
river towards New Madrid, out of range. During the morning there was a
deep booming from the direction of Point Pleasant. The Rebel gunboats
were trying to drive Colonel Plummer from his position.</p>

<p>Ten o&#8217;clock came, the hour for divine service. The church flag was flung
out on the flagstaff of the Benton, and all the commanders called their
crews together for worship. I was on board the Pittsburg with Captain
Thompson. The crew assembled on the upper deck. There were men from
Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island, from the Eastern
as well as the Western States. Some of them were scholars and teachers
in Sabbath-schools at home. They were dressed in dark-blue, and each
sailor appeared in his Sunday suit. A small table was brought up from
the cabin, and the flag of our country spread upon it. A Bible was
brought. We stood around the captain with uncovered heads, while he read
the twenty-seventh Psalm. Beautiful and appropriate was that service:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot">&#8220;The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is
the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?&#8221;</div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>After the Psalm, the prayer, &#8220;Our Father which art in heaven.&#8221;</p>

<p>How impressive! The uncovered group standing around the open Bible, and
the low voices of a hundred men in prayer. On our right hand, looking
down the mighty river, were the mortars, in play, jarring the earth with
their heavy thunders. The shells were sweeping in graceful curves
through the air. Upon our left hand, the Benton and Carondelet were
covering themselves with white clouds, which slowly floated away over
the woodlands, fragrant with the early buds and blossoms of spring. The
Rebel batteries below us were flaming and smoking. Solid shot screamed
past us, shells exploded above us. Away beyond the island, beyond the
dark-green of the forest, rose the cloud of another bombardment, where
Commodore Hollins was vainly endeavoring to drive Colonel Plummer from
his position. So the prayer was mingled with the deep, wild thunders of
the cannonade.</p>

<p>A light fog, like a thin veil, lay along the river. After service, we
saw that strange and peculiar optical illusion called <i>mirage</i>, so often
seen in deserts, where the thirsty traveller beholds lakes, and shady
places, cities, towns, and ships. I was looking up stream, and saw,
sweeping round the wooded point of land, something afloat. A boat or
floating battery it seemed to be. There were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>chimneys, a flagstaff, a
porthole. It was seemingly two hundred feet long, coming broadside
towards us.</p>

<p>&#8220;Captain Thompson, see there!&#8221;</p>

<p>He looked at it, and jumped upon the pilot-house, scanned it over and
over. The other officers raised their glasses.</p>

<p>&#8220;It looks like a floating battery!&#8221; said one.</p>

<p>&#8220;There is a porthole, certainly!&#8221; said another.</p>

<p>It came nearer. Its proportions increased.</p>

<p>&#8220;Pilot, put on steam! Head her up stream!&#8221; said Captain Thompson.</p>

<p>&#8220;Lieutenant, beat to quarters! Light up the magazine! We will see what
she is made of.&#8221;</p>

<p>There was activity on deck. The guns were run out, shot and shell were
brought up. The boat moved up stream. Broadside upon us came the unknown
craft.</p>

<p>Suddenly the illusion vanished. The monster three hundred feet long,
changed to an old coal-barge. The chimneys became two timbers, the
flagstaff a small stick of firewood. The fog, the currents of air, had
produced the transformation. We had a hearty laugh over our preparations
for an encounter with the enemy in our rear. It was an enemy more
quickly disposed of than the one in front.</p>

<p>The Rebels in the upper battery waved a white flag. The firing ceased.
Commodore Foote sent <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>Lieutenant Bishop down with a tug and a white flag
flying, to see what it meant. He approached the battery.</p>

<p>&#8220;Are we to understand that you wish to communicate with us?&#8221; he asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;No, sir,&#8221; said an officer wearing a gold-laced coat.</p>

<p>&#8220;Then why do you display a white flag?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;It is a mistake, sir. It is a signal-flag. I regret that it has
deceived you.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Good morning, sir.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Good morning, sir.&#8221;</p>

<p>The tug steams back to the Benton, the white flag is taken down, and the
uproar begins again. Lieutenant Bishop made good use of his eyes. There
were seven thirty-two-pounders and one heavy rifled gun in the upper
battery.</p>

<p>Commodore Foote was not ready to begin the bombardment in earnest till
Monday noon, March 17th.</p>

<p>The Benton, Cincinnati, and St. Louis dropped down stream, side by side,
and came into position about a mile from the upper batteries. Anchors
were dropped from the stern of each gunboat, that they might fight head
on, using their heavy rifled guns. Their position was on the east side
of the river. The Mound City and Carondelet took position near the west
bank, just below the mortars. The boats were thus placed to bring a
cross fire upon the upper Rebel battery.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>&#8220;Pay no attention to the island, but direct your fire into the upper
battery!&#8221; is the order.</p>

<p>A signal is raised upon the flag-ship. We do not understand the
signification of the flag, but while we look at it the ten mortars open
fire, one after another, in rapid succession. The gunboats follow. There
are ten shells, thirteen inches in diameter, rising high in air. There
are handfuls of smoke flecking the sky, and a prolonged, indescribable
crashing, rolling, and rumbling. You have seen battle-pieces by the
great painters; but the highest artistic skill cannot portray the scene.
It is a vernal day, as beautiful as ever dawned. The gunboats are
enveloped in flame and smoke. The unfolding clouds are slowly wafted
away by the gentle breeze. Huge columns rise majestically from the
mortars. A line of white&mdash;a thread-like tissue&mdash;spans the sky. It is the
momentary and vanishing mark of the shell in the invisible air. There
are little splashes in the stream, where the fragments of iron fall.
There are pillars of water tossed upward in front of the earthwork,
which break into spray, painted with rainbow hues by the bright
sunshine. A round shot skips along the surface and pierces the
embankment. Another just clears the parapet, and cuts down a tree
beyond. The air is filled with sticks, timbers, branches of trees, and
earth, as if a dozen thunderbolts <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>had fallen upon the spot from a
cloudless sky. There are explosions deep under ground, where the great
shells have buried themselves in their downward flight. There are
volumes of smoke which rise like the mists of a summer morning.</p>

<p>There are some brave fellows behind that breastwork. Amid this storm
they come out from their shelter and load a gun. There it comes! A
flash, a cloud, a hissing, a crash! The shot strikes the upper deck of
the Benton, tears up the iron plates, breaks the thick timbers into
kindlings, falls upon the lower deck, bounds up again to the beams
above, and drops into Commodore Foote&#8217;s writing-desk!</p>

<p>All around, from the gunboats, the mortars, from all the batteries, are
flashes, clouds of smoke, and thunderings, which bring to mind the
gorgeous imagery of the Book of Revelation in the New Testament,
descriptive of the scenes of the Last Judgment.</p>

<p>The firing ceased at sunset. The Benton was struck four times, and the
Cincinnati once. No one was injured by these shots, but one of the guns
of the St. Louis burst, killing two men instantly, and wounding
thirteen.</p>

<p>When the bombardment was at its height, Commodore Foote received a
letter from Cairo, containing the sad information that a beloved son <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>had
died suddenly. It was a sore bereavement, but it was no time for him to
give way to grief, no time to think of his great affliction.</p>

<p>After the firing had ceased, I sat with him in the cabin of the Benton.
There were tears upon his cheeks. He was thinking of his loss.</p>

<p>Were he living now, I should have no right to give the conversation I
had with him, but he has gone to his reward, leaving us his bright
example. These were his words, as I remember:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;It is a terrible blow, but the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away;
blessed be His name. It is hard for me to bear, but no harder than it
will be for the fathers of the noble men who were killed on the St.
Louis. Poor fellows! I feel bad for the wounded.&#8221;</p>

<p>He called the orderly who stood outside the cabin.</p>

<p>&#8220;Orderly, tell the surgeon that I want to see him.&#8221;</p>

<p>The surgeon came in.</p>

<p>&#8220;Surgeon, I wish you to do everything you can for those poor fellows on
the St. Louis. Don&#8217;t omit anything that will contribute to their
comfort.&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;It shall be done, sir,&#8221; said the surgeon, as he left the cabin.</p>

<p>&#8220;Poor fellows! I must see them myself. It is a great deal worse to have
a gun explode than to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>have the men wounded by the enemy&#8217;s shot, for they
lose confidence. I have protested again and again to the Department
against using these old thirty-two-pounders, which have been weakened by
being rifled; but I had to take them or none. I had to pick them up
wherever I could find them. I have tried my best to get the fleet in
good trim, and it is too bad to have the men slaughtered in this way. I
shall try to do my duty. The country needs the services of every man. We
shall have a long war. I would like to rest, and have a little breathing
spell, but I shall not ask for it. I shall try to do my duty to my
country and to God. He is leading this nation in a way we know not of.
My faith is unshaken in Him. He will bring us out of all trouble at
last.&#8221;</p>

<p>Thus, in the hour of battle, while attending to his duties, while
bearing up under the intelligence that a beloved son had died, he talked
calmly, cheerfully, and hopefully of the future, and manifested the care
and tenderness of a father for the wounded.</p>

<p>Although the gunboats ceased firing at sunset, the mortars were in play
all night. It was beautiful to see the great flash, illuminating all the
landscape, the white cloud rolling upward and outward, unfolding,
expanding, spreading over the wide river, and the bright spark rising
high in the air, turning with the revolving shell, reaching its <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>altitude
and sailing straight along the arch of the parabola, then descending
with increasing rapidity, ending in a bright flash, and an explosion
which echoes and re-echoes far away. The next day I went with Captain
Maynadier across the point to reconnoitre the batteries on the island
and watch the explosions of the shells. We passed a deserted farm-house,
and saw a squad of Colonel Buford&#8217;s soldiers running down pigs and
chickens. Crossing a creek upon a corduroy bridge, we came to a second
squad. One was playing a violin, and several were dancing; they were as
happy as larks. We stood upon the bank of the river opposite the island.
Before us was the floating battery, which was formerly the New Orleans
dry-dock. It mounted eight guns. There were four batteries on the
Tennessee shore and several on the island. We could see the artillerists
at their guns. They saw us, and sent a shell whizzing over our heads,
which struck in a cornfield, and ploughed a deep furrow for the farmer
owning it. We went where they could not see us, and mounted a fence to
watch the effect of the mortar-firing. It was interesting to sit there
and hear the great shells sail through the air five hundred feet above
us. It was like the sound of far-off, invisible machinery, turning with
a constant motion, not the sharp, shrill whistle of a rifled-bolt, but a
whirr and roll, like that which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>you may sometimes hear above the clouds
in a thunder-storm. One shell fell like a millstone into the river. The
water did not extinguish the fuse, and a great column was thrown up
fifty feet high. Another buried itself deep in the ground before it
burst, and excavated a great hole. I learned, after the place
surrendered, that one fell through a tent where several officers were
sitting, playing cards, and that the next moment the tent, furniture,
officers, and fifty cartloads of earth were sailing through the air!
None of them were wounded, but they were bruised, wrenched, and their
nice clothes covered with dirt.</p>

<p>At night there was a storm, with vivid lightning and heavy thunder. The
mortars kept up their fire. It was a sublime spectacle,&mdash;earth against
heaven, but the artillery of the skies was the best.</p>

<p>You would have given a great deal, I dare say, to have seen all this;
but there is another side to the story. Can you eat dirt? Can you eat
grease in all its forms,&mdash;baked, boiled, fried, simmered? Can you bear
variegated butter, variable in taste and smell? Can you get along with
ham, hash, and beans for breakfast, beans, hash, and ham for dinner, and
hash, ham, and beans for supper, week after week, with fat in all its
forms, with cakes solid enough for grape-shot to fire at the Rebels,
with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>blackest coffee and the nearest available cow fifty miles
off?&mdash;with sour molasses, greasy griddle-cakes, with Mississippi water
thick with the filth of the great valley of the West, with slime from
the Cincinnati slaughter-houses, sweepings from the streets, slops from
the steamboats, with all the miasma and mould of the forests? The
fairest countenance soon changes to a milk and molasses color, and
energy lags, and strength becomes weakness under such living.</p>

<p>In boyhood, at the sound of a bugle, a drum, or the roar of a cannon,
how leaped the blood through my veins! But it becomes an old story. I
was quartered within a stone&#8217;s-throw of the mortars, which fired all
night long, and was not disturbed by the explosions. One becomes
indifferent to everything. You get tired of watching the cannonade, and
become so accustomed to the fire of the enemy, that after a while you do
not heed a shot that ploughs up the dirt or strikes the water near at
hand.</p>

<p>General Pope sent word, that, if he had transports and a gunboat, he
could cross to the Tennessee shore and take the batteries in the rear.
The river was very high and the country overflowed. Near New Madrid
there is a bayou, which is the outlet of a small lake. It was determined
to cut a canal through the forest to the lake. Colonel Bissell with his
regiment of engineers <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>went to work. Four steamboats were fitted up, two
barges, with cannon on board, were taken in tow, and the expedition
started. They sailed over a cornfield, where the tall stalks were waving
and swinging in the water, steamed over fences, and came to the woods.
There were great trees, which must be cut away. The engineers rigged
their saws for work under water. The path was fifty feet wide and the
trees were cut off four feet below the surface. In eight days they cut
their way to New Madrid, a distance of twelve miles. In one place they
cut off seventy-five trees, all of which were more than two feet in
diameter.</p>

<p>While this was doing, Commodore Foote kept the Rebels awake by a regular
and continuous bombardment, mainly upon the upper battery. He determined
to capture it.</p>

<p>On the night of the 1st of April, an armed expedition is fitted out from
the squadron and the land forces. There are five boats, manned by picked
crews from the gunboats, carrying forty men of the Forty-second
Illinois, under command of Colonel Roberts. The party numbers one
hundred. It is a wild night. The wind blows a gale from the south,
swaying the great trees of the forest and tossing up waves upon the
swift-running river, which boils, bubbles, dashes, and foams in the
storm. There are vivid lightning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>flashes, growls and rolls of deep,
heavy thunder. The boats cast off from the fleet. The oars have been
muffled. No words are spoken. The soldiers sit, each with his gun half
raised to his shoulder and his hand upon the lock. The spray dashes over
them, sheets of flame flash in their faces. All the landscape for a
moment is as light as day, and then all is pitch darkness.</p>

<p>Onward faster and faster they sweep, driven by the strong arms of the
rowers and the current. It is a stealthy, noiseless, rapid, tempestuous,
dangerous, daring enterprise. They are tossed by the waves, but they
glide with the rapidity of a race-horse. Two sentinels stand upon the
parapet. A few rods in rear is a regiment of Rebels. A broad
lightning-flash reveals the descending boats. The sentinels fire their
guns, but they are mimic flashes.</p>

<p>&#8220;Lay in quick!&#8221; shouts Colonel Roberts.</p>

<p>The oars bend in the row-locks. A stroke, and they are beside the
parapet, climbing up the slippery bank. The sentinels run. There is a
rattling fire from pistols and muskets; but the shots fall harmlessly in
the forest. A moment,&mdash;and all the guns are spiked. There is a commotion
in the woods. The sleeping Rebels are astir. They do not rally to drive
back the invaders, but are fleeing in the darkness.</p>

<p>Colonel Roberts walks from gun to gun, to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>see if the work has been
effectually accomplished.</p>

<p>&#8220;All right! All aboard! Push off!&#8221; He is the last to leave. The boats
head up-stream. The rowers bend to their oars. In a minute they are
beyond musket range. Their work is accomplished, and there will be no
more firing from that six-gun battery. Now the gunboats can move nearer
and begin their work upon the remaining batteries.</p>

<p>In the morning General Mackall was much chagrined when he found out what
had been done by the Yankees. It is said he used some hard words. He
flew into a rage, and grew red in the face, which did not help the
matter in the least.</p>

<p>At midnight, on the night of the 3d of April, the Carondelet, commanded
by Captain Walke, ran past the batteries and the island. It was a dark,
stormy night. But the sentinels saw her coming down in the darkness, and
every cannon was brought to bear upon the vessel. Shells burst around
her; solid shot, grape, and canister swept over her; but she was not
struck, although exposed to the terrific fire over thirty minutes. We
who remained with the fleet waited in breathless suspense to hear her
three signal-guns, which were to be fired if she passed safely. They
came,&mdash;boom! boom! boom! She <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>was safe. We cheered, hurrahed, and lay
down to sleep, to dream it all over again.</p>

<p>The Carondelet reached New Madrid. The soldiers of General Pope&#8217;s army
rushed to the bank, and gave way to the wildest enthusiasm.</p>

<p>&#8220;Three cheers for the Carondelet!&#8221; shouted one. Their caps went into the
air, they swung their arms, and danced in ecstasy.</p>

<p>&#8220;Three more for Commodore Foote!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Now three more for Captain Walke!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Three more for the Navy!&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;Three more for the Cabin-Boy!&#8221;</p>

<p>So they went on cheering and shouting for everything till they were
hoarse.</p>

<p>The next day the Carondelet went down the river as far as Point
Pleasant, had an engagement with several batteries on the Tennessee
shore, silenced them, landed and spiked the guns. The next night the
Pittsburg, Captain Thompson ran the blockade safely. The four steamboats
which had worked their way through the canal were all ready. The Tenth,
Sixteenth, Twenty-first, and Fifty-first Illinois regiments were taken
on board. The Rebels had a heavy battery on the other side of the river,
at a place called Watson&#8217;s Landing. The Carondelet and Pittsburg went
ahead, opened fire, and silenced it. The steamers advanced. The Rebels
saw the preparations and fled towards Tiptonville. By midnight <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>General
Pope had all his troops on the Tennessee shore. General Paine,
commanding those in advance, pushed on towards Tiptonville and took
possession of all the deserted camps. The Rebels had fled in confusion,
casting away their guns, knapsacks, clothing, everything, to escape.
When the troops in the batteries heard what was going on in their rear,
they also fled towards Tiptonville. General Pope came up with them the
next morning and captured all who had not escaped. General Mackall and
two other generals, nearly seven thousand prisoners, one hundred and
twenty-three pieces of artillery, seven thousand small arms, and an
immense amount of ammunition and supplies fell into the hands of General
Pope. The troops on the island, finding that they were deserted,
surrendered to Commodore Foote. It was almost a bloodless victory, but
one of great importance, opening the Mississippi River down to Fort
Pillow, forty miles above Memphis.</p>

<p>When the State of Tennessee was carried out of the Union by the
treachery of Governor Harris, and other men in high official position,
there were some men in the western part of the State, as well as the
eastern, who remained loyal. Those who were suspected of loving the
Union suffered terrible persecutions. Among them was a citizen of Purdy.
His name was Hurst. He told me the story of his wrongs.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>Soon after the State seceded, he was visited by a number of men who
called themselves a vigilance committee. They were fierce-looking
fellows, armed with pistols and knives.</p>

<p>&#8220;We want you to come with us,&#8221; said the leader of the gang.</p>

<p>&#8220;What do you want of me?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;We will let you know when you get there.&#8221;</p>

<p>Mr. Hurst knew that they wanted to take him before their own
self-elected court, and went without hesitation.</p>

<p>He was questioned, but would not commit himself by any positive answer,
and, as they could not prove he was in favor of the Union, they allowed
him to go home.</p>

<p>But the ruffians were not satisfied, and in a few days had him up again.
They tried hard to prove that he was opposed to the Confederacy, but he
had kept about his own business, had refrained from talking, and they
could not convict him. They allowed him to go for several months. One
day, in September, 1861, while at work in his field, the ruffians came
again. Their leader had a red face, bloated with whiskey, chewed
tobacco, had two pistols in his belt, and a long knife in a sheath. He
wore a slouched hat, and was a villanous-looking fellow.</p>

<p>&#8220;Come, you scoundrel. We will fix you this time,&#8221; said the captain of
the band.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>&#8220;What do you want of me?&#8221;</p>

<p>&#8220;You are an Abolitionist,&mdash;a Yankee spy. That&#8217;s what you are. We&#8217;ll make
you stretch hemp this time,&#8221; they said, seizing him and marching him
into town, with their pistols cocked. Six or eight of them were ready to
shoot him if he should attempt to escape. They called all who did not go
for secession Abolitionists.</p>

<p>&#8220;I am not an Abolitionist,&#8221; said Hurst.</p>

<p>&#8220;None of your sass. We know what you are, and if you don&#8217;t hold your
jaw, we will stop it for you.&#8221;</p>

<p>They marched him through the village, and the whole population turned
out to see him. He was taken to the jail, and thrust into a cage, so
small that he could not lie down,&mdash;a vile, filthy place. The jailer was
a brutal, hard-hearted man,&mdash;a rabid secessionist. He chuckled with
delight when he turned the key on Hurst. He was kept in the cage two
days, and then taken to Nashville, where he was tried before a military
court.</p>

<p>He was charged with being opposed to the Confederacy, and in favor of
the Union; also that he was a spy.</p>

<p>Among his accusers were some secessionists who owed him a grudge. They
invented lies, swore that Hurst was in communication with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>the Yankees,
and gave them information of all the movements of the Rebels. This was
months before General Grant attacked Donelson, and Hurst was two hundred
miles from the nearest post of the Union army; but such was the hatred
of the secessionists, and they were so bloodthirsty, that they were
ready to hang all who did not hurrah for Jeff Davis and the Confederacy.
He was far from home. He was not permitted to have any witnesses, and
his own word was of no value in their estimation. He was condemned to be
hung as a spy.</p>

<p>They took him out to a tree, put the rope round his neck, when some of
his old acquaintances, who were not quite so hardened as his accusers,
said that the evidence was not sufficient to hang him. They took him
back to the court. He came under heavy bonds to report himself often and
prove his whereabouts.</p>

<p>He was released, and went home, but his old enemies followed him, and
dogged him day and night.</p>

<p>He discovered that he was to be again arrested. He told his boy to
harness his horse quick, and take him to a side street, near an
apothecary&#8217;s shop. He looked out of the window, and saw a file of
soldiers approaching to arrest him. He slipped out of the back door,
gained the street, and walked boldly through the town.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>&#8220;There he goes!&#8221; said a fellow smoking a cigar on the steps of the
hotel. A crowd rushed out of the bar-room to see him. They knew that he
was to be arrested; they expected he would be hung.</p>

<p>As he walked into the apothecary&#8217;s shop, he saw his boy coming down the
alley with his horse. He did not dare to go down the alley to meet him,
for the crowd would see his attempt to escape. They saw him enter the
door, and rushed across the street to see the fun when the soldiers
should arrive.</p>

<p>&#8220;Come in here,&#8221; he said to the apothecary, as he stepped into a room in
the rear, from which a door opened into the alley.</p>

<p>The apothecary followed him, wondering what he wanted.</p>

<p>Hurst drew a pistol from his pocket, and held it to the head of the
apothecary, and said, &#8220;If you make any noise, I will blow your brains
out!&#8221; He opened the door, and beckoned to his boy, who rode up. &#8220;I have
four friends who are aiding me to escape,&#8221; said he. &#8220;They will be the
death of you if you give the alarm; but if you remain quiet, they will
not harm you.&#8221; He sprang upon his horse, galloped down the alley, and
was gone.</p>

<p>The apothecary dared not give the alarm, and was very busy about his
business when the soldiers came to arrest Hurst.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>When they found he was gone, they started in pursuit, but were not able
to overtake him. He made his way to the woods, and finally reached the
Union army.</p>

<p>When General Lewis Wallace&#8217;s division entered the town of Purdy, Hurst
accompanied it. He asked General Wallace for a guard, to make an
important arrest. His request was granted. He went to the jail, found
the jailer, and demanded his keys. The jailer gave them up. Hurst
unlocked the cage, and there he found a half-starved slave, who had been
put in for no crime, but to keep him from running away to the Union
army.</p>

<p>He released the slave and told him to go where he pleased. The colored
man could hardly stand, he was so cramped and exhausted by his long
confinement and want of food.</p>

<p>&#8220;Step in there!&#8221; said Hurst to the jailer. The jailer shrunk back.</p>

<p>&#8220;Step in there, you scoundrel!&#8221; said Hurst, more determinedly.</p>

<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t mean to put me in there, Hurst!&#8221; said the jailer, almost
whining.</p>

<p>&#8220;Step in, I say, or I&#8217;ll let daylight through you!&#8221; He seized a gun from
one of the soldiers and pricked the jailer a little with the bayonet, to
let him know that he was in earnest. The other soldiers fenced him round
with a glittering line <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>of sharp steel points. They chuckled, and thought
it capital fun.</p>

<p>The jailer stepped in, whining and begging, and saying that he never
meant to harm Hurst. Having got him inside, Hurst locked the door, put
the key in his pocket, dismissed the soldiers, and went away. He was
gone two days, and when he returned, <i>had lost the key</i>!</p>

<p>The cage was built of oak logs, and bolted so firmly with iron that it
took half a day, with axes, to get the jailer out. He never troubled
Hurst again, who joined the Union army as a scout, and did excellent
service, for he was well acquainted with the country.</p>

<p>While operations were going on at Island No. 10, I went up the river one
day, and visited the hospitals at Mound City and Paducah. In one of the
wards a surgeon was dressing the arm of a brave young Irishman, who was
very jolly. His arm had been torn by a piece of shell, but he did not
mind it much. The surgeon was performing an operation which was painful.</p>

<p>&#8220;Does it hurt, Patrick?&#8221; he asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;Ah! Doctor, ye nadent ask such a question as that; but if ye&#8217;ll just
give me a good drink of whiskey, ye may squeeze it all day long.&#8221;</p>

<p>He made up such a comical face that the sick and wounded all around him
laughed. It did them good, and Patrick knew it, and so, in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>kindness
of his heart, he kept on making up faces, and never uttered a word of
complaint.</p>

<p>&#8220;He is a first-rate patient,&#8221; said the surgeon as we passed along. &#8220;He
keeps up good spirits all the time, and that helps all the rest.&#8221;</p>

<p>In another part of the hospital was one of Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters, who
did such excellent service, you remember, at Fort Donelson. He was a
brave and noble boy. There were several kind ladies taking care of the
sick. Their presence was like sunshine. Wherever they walked the eyes of
the sufferers followed them. One of these ladies thus speaks of little
Frankie Bragg:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;Many will remember him; the boy of fifteen, who fought valiantly at
Donelson,&mdash;one of the bravest of Birges&#8217;s sharpshooters, and whose
answer to my questioning in regard to joining the army was so well
worthy of record.</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;<i>I joined, because I was so young and strong, and because life would
be worth nothing to me unless I offered it for my country!</i>&#8217;&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></p></div>

<p>How noble! There are many strong men who have done nothing for their
country, and there are some who enjoy all the blessings of a good
government, who are willing to see it destroyed rather than lift a
finger to save it. Their names shall go out in oblivion, but little
Frankie Bragg shall live forever! His body lies in the hospital <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>ground
at Paducah, but the pure patriotism which animated him, and the words he
uttered, will never die!</p>

<p>The good lady who took care of him writes:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;I saw him die. I can never forget the pleading gaze of his violet eyes,
the brow from which ringlets of light-brown hair were swept by strange
fingers bathed in the death-dew, the desire for some one to care for
him, some one to love him in his last hours. I came to his side, and he
clasped my hand in his own, fast growing cold and stiff.</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;O, I am going to die, and there is no one to love me,&#8217; he said. &#8216;I did
not think I was going to die till now; but it can&#8217;t last long. If my
sisters were only here; but I have no friends near me now, and it is so
hard!&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;Frankie,&#8217; I said, &#8216;I know it is hard to be away from your relatives,
but you are not friendless; I am your friend. Mrs. S&mdash;&mdash; and the kind
Doctor are your friends, and we will all take care of you. More than
this, God is your friend, and he is nearer to you now than either of us
can get. Trust him, my boy. He will help you.&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;A faint smile passed over the pale sufferer&#8217;s features.</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;O, do you think he will?&#8217; he asked.</p>

<p>&#8220;Then, as he held my hands closer, he turned his face more fully toward
me, and said: &#8216;My <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>mother taught me to pray when I was a very little boy,
and I never forgot it. I have always said my prayers every day, and
tried not to be bad. Do you think God heard me always?&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;Yes, most assuredly. Did he not promise, in his good Book, from which
your mother taught you, that he would always hear the prayers of his
children? Ask, and ye shall receive. Don&#8217;t you remember this? One of the
worst things we can do is to doubt God&#8217;s truth. He has promised, and he
will fulfil. Don&#8217;t you feel so, Frankie?&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;He hesitated a moment, and then answered, slowly: &#8216;Yes, I do believe
it. I am not afraid to die, but I want somebody to love me.&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;The old cry for love, the strong yearning for the sympathy of kindred
hearts. It would not be put down.</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;Frankie, I love you. Poor boy! you shall not be left alone. Is not
this some comfort to you?&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;Do you love me? Will you stay with me, and not leave me?&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;I will not leave you. Be comforted, I will stay as long as you wish.&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;I kissed the pale forehead as if it had been that of my own child. A
glad light flashed over his face.</p>

<p>&#8220;&#8216;O, kiss me again; that was given like my sister. Mrs. S&mdash;&mdash;, won&#8217;t you
kiss me, too? I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>don&#8217;t think it will be so hard to die, if you will both
love me.&#8217;</p>

<p>&#8220;It did not last long. With his face nestled against mine, and his large
blue eyes fixed in perfect composure upon me to the last moment, he
breathed out his life.&#8221;</p></div>

<p>So he died for his country. He sleeps on the banks of the beautiful
Ohio. Men labor hard for riches, honor, and fame, but few, when life is
over, will leave a nobler record than this young Christian patriot.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2>

<h3>FROM FORT PILLOW TO MEMPHIS.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">n</span>
the 6th of May, 1861, the Legislature of Tennessee, in secret
session, voted that the State should secede from the Union. The next
day, Governor Harris appointed three Commissioners to meet Mr. Hilliard,
of Alabama, who had been sent by Jefferson Davis to make a league with
the State. These Commissioners agreed that all the troops of the State
should be under the control of the President of the Confederacy. All of
the public property and naval stores and munitions of war were also
turned over to the Confederacy. The people had nothing to do about it.
The conspirators did not dare to trust the matter to them, for a great
many persons in East Tennessee were ardently attached to the Union. In
Western Tennessee, along the Mississippi, nearly all of the people, on
the other hand, were in favor of secession.</p>

<p>At Memphis they were very wild and fierce. Union men were mobbed, tarred
and feathered, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>ridden on rails, had their heads shaved, were robbed,
knocked down, and warned to leave the place or be hung. One man was
headed up in a hogshead, and rolled into the river, because he stood up
for the Union! Memphis was a hotbed of secessionists; it was almost as
bad as Charleston.</p>

<p>A Memphis newspaper, of the 6th of May, said:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;Tennessee is disenthralled at last. Freedom has again crowned her with
a fresh and fadeless wreath. She will do her entire duty. Great
sacrifices are demanded of her, and they will be cheerfully made. Her
blood and treasure are offered without stint at the shrine of Southern
freedom. She counts not the cost at which independence may be bought.
The gallant volunteer State of the South, her brave sons, now rushing to
the standard of the Southern Confederacy, will sustain, by their
unflinching valor and deathless devotion, her ancient renown achieved on
so many battle-fields.</p>

<p>&#8220;In fact, our entire people&mdash;men, women, and children&mdash;have engaged in
this fight, and are animated by the single heroic and indomitable
resolve to perish rather than submit to the despicable invader now
threatening us with subjugation. They will ratify the ordinance of
secession amid the smoke and carnage of battle; they will write out
their indorsement of it with the blood <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>of their foe; they will enforce
it at the point of the bayonet and sword.</p>

<p>&#8220;Welcome, thrice welcome, glorious Tennessee, to the thriving family of
Southern Confederate States!&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p></div>

<p>On the same day the citizens of Memphis tore down the Stars and Stripes
from its staff upon the Court-House, formed a procession, and with a
band of music bore the flag, like a corpse, to a pit, and buried it in
mock solemnity. They went into the public square, where stands the
statue of General Jackson, and chiselled from its pedestal his memorable
words: &#8220;The Federal Union,&mdash;it must be preserved.&#8221; They went to the
river-bank, and seized all the steamboats they could lay their hands
upon belonging to Northern men.</p>

<p>They resolved to build a fleet of gunboats, which would ascend the river
to St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Pittsburg, and compel the people of those
cities to pay tribute, for the privilege of navigating the river to the
Gulf.</p>

<p>The entire population engaged in the enterprise. The ladies held fairs
and gave their jewelry. The citizens organized themselves into a gunboat
association. When the boats were launched, the ladies, with appropriate
ceremonies, dedicated them to the Confederacy. They <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>urged their
husbands, brothers, sons, and friends to enlist in the service, and the
young man who hesitated received presents of hoop-skirts, petticoats,
and other articles of female wearing apparel.</p>

<p>Eight gunboats were built. Commodore Hollins, as you have seen,
commanded them. He attempted to drive back General Pope at New Madrid,
but failed. He went to New Orleans, and Captain Montgomery was placed in
command.</p>

<p>When Commodore Foote and General Pope took Island No. 10, those that
escaped of the Rebels fell back to Fort Pillow, about forty miles above
Memphis. It was a strong position, and Commodore Foote made but little
effort to take it, but waited for the advance of General Halleck&#8217;s army
upon Corinth. While thus waiting, one foggy morning, several of the
Rebel gunboats made a sudden attack upon the Cincinnati, and nearly
disabled her before they were beaten back. Meanwhile, Commodore Foote,
finding that his wound, received at Donelson, was growing worse, was
recalled by the Secretary of the Navy, and Commodore Charles Henry
Davis, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, was placed in command.</p>

<p>Besides the gunboats on the Mississippi, was Colonel Ellet&#8217;s fleet of
rams,&mdash;nine in all. They were old steamboats, with oaken bulwarks three
feet thick, to protect the boilers and engines. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>Their bows had been
strengthened with stout timbers and iron bolts, and they had iron prows
projecting under water. They carried no cannon, but were manned by
sharpshooters. There were loop-holes through the timbers for the
riflemen. The pilot-house was protected by iron plates. They joined the
fleet at Fort Pillow.</p>

<p>The river is very narrow in front of the fort,&mdash;not more than a third of
its usual width. It makes a sharp bend. The channel is deep, and the
current rushes by like a mill-race. The Tennessee shore was lined with
batteries on the bluff, which made it a place much stronger than
Columbus or Island No. 10. But when General Beauregard was forced to
evacuate Corinth, the Rebels were also compelled to leave Fort Pillow.
For two or three days before the evacuation, they kept up a heavy fire
upon the fleet.</p>

<p>On the 3d of June,&mdash;a hot, sultry day,&mdash;just before night, a huge bank
of clouds rolled up from the south. There had been hardly a breath of
air through the day, but now the wind blew a hurricane. The air was
filled with dust, whirled up from the sand-bars. When the storm was at
its height, I was surprised to see two of the rams run down past the
point of land which screened them from the batteries, vanishing from
sight in the distant cloud. They went to ascertain what the Rebels were
doing. There was a sudden waking <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>up of heavy guns. The batteries were in
a blaze. The cloud was thick and heavy, and the rams returned, but the
Rebel cannon still thundered, throwing random shots into the river, two
or three at a time, firing as if the Confederacy had tons of ammunition
to spare.</p>

<p>The dust-cloud, with its fine, misty rain, rolled away. The sun shone
once more, and bridged the river with a gorgeous arch of green and gold,
which appeared a moment, and then faded away, as the sun went down
behind the western woods. While we stood admiring the scene, a Rebel
steamer came round the point to see what we were about. It was a black
craft, bearing the flag of the Confederacy at her bow. She turned
leisurely, stopped her wheels, and looked at us audaciously. The
gunboats opened fire. The Rebel steamer took her own time, unmindful of
the shot and shell falling and bursting all around her, then slowly
disappeared beyond the headland. It was a challenge for a fight. It was
not accepted, for Commodore Davis was not disposed to be cut up by the
shore-batteries.</p>

<p>The next day there were lively times at the fort. A cannonade was kept
up on Commodore Davis&#8217;s fleet, which was vigorously answered. We little
thought that this was to blind us to what was going on. At sunset the
Rebels set fire to their barracks. There were great pillars <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>of flame and
smoke in and around the fort. The southern sky was all aglow.
Occasionally there were flashes and explosions, sudden puffs of smoke,
spreading out like flakes of cotton or fleeces of white and crimson
wool. It was a gorgeous sight.</p>

<p>In the morning we found that the Rebels had gone, spiking their cannon
and burning their supplies. That which had cost them months of hard
labor was abandoned, and the river was open to Memphis.</p>

<p>On the 5th of June, Commodore Davis&#8217;s fleet left Fort Pillow for
Memphis. I was sitting at dinner with the Commodore and Captain Phelps,
on board the Benton, when an orderly thrust his head into the cabin, and
said, &#8220;Sir, there is a fine large steamer ahead of us.&#8221;</p>

<p>We are on deck in an instant. The boatswain is piping all hands to
quarters. There is great commotion.</p>

<p>&#8220;Out with that gun! Quick!&#8221; shouted Lieutenant Bishop. The brave tars
seize the ropes, the trucks creak, and the great eleven-inch gun,
already loaded, is out in a twinkling. Men are bringing up shot and
shell. The deck is clearing of all superfluous furniture.</p>

<p>There she is, a mile distant, a beautiful steamer, head up-stream. She
sees us, and turns her bow. Her broadside comes round, and we read
&#8220;Sovereign&#8221; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>upon her wheelhouse. We are on the upper deck, and the
muzzle of the eleven-inch gun is immediately beneath us. A great flash
comes in our faces. We are in a cloud, stifled, stunned, gasping for
breath, our ears ringing; but the cloud is blown away, and we see the
shot throw up the water a mile beyond the Sovereign. Glorious! We will
have her. Another, not so good. Another, still worse.</p>

<p>The Louisville, Carondelet, and Cairo open fire. But the Sovereign is a
fast sailer, and is increasing the distance.</p>

<p>&#8220;The Spitfire will catch her!&#8221; says the pilot. A wave of the hand, and
the Spitfire is alongside, running up like a dog to its master.
Lieutenant Bishop, Pilot Bixby, and a gun crew jump on board the tug,
which carries a boat howitzer. Away they go, the tug puffing and
wheezing, as if it had the asthma.</p>

<p>&#8220;Through the <i>chute</i>!&#8221; shouts Captain Phelps. <i>Chute</i> is a French word,
meaning a narrow passage, not the main channel of the river. The
Sovereign is in the main channel, but the Spitfire has the shortest
distance. The tug cuts the water like a knife. She comes out just astern
of the steamer.</p>

<p>Bang! goes the howitzer. The shot falls short. Bang! again in a
twinkling. Better. Bang! It goes over the Sovereign.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>&#8220;Hurrah! Bishop will get her!&#8221; The crews of the gunboats dance with
delight, and swing their caps. Bang! Right through her cabin. The
Sovereign turns towards the shore, and runs plump against the bank. The
crew, all but the cook, take to the woods, and the steamer is ours.</p>

<p>It would astonish you to see how fast a well-drilled boat&#8217;s-crew can
load and fire a howitzer. Commodore Foote informed me that, when he was
in the China Sea, he was attacked by the natives, and his boat&#8217;s-crew
fired four times a minute!</p>

<p>The chase for the Sovereign was very exciting,&mdash;more so than any
horse-race I ever saw.</p>

<p>The crew on board the Sovereign had been stopping at all the farm-houses
along the river, setting fire to the cotton on the plantations. They did
it in the name of the Confederate government, that it might not fall
into the hands of the Yankees. In a great many places they had rolled it
into the river, and the stream was covered with white flakes. The bushes
were lined with it.</p>

<p>As soon as the people along the banks saw the Federal steamboats, they
went to work to save their property. Some of them professed to be Union
men. I conversed with an old man, who was lame, and could hardly hobble
round. He <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>spoke bitterly against Jeff Davis for burning his cotton and
stealing all his property.</p>

<p>While descending the river, we saw a canoe, containing two men, push out
from a thick canebrake. They came up to the Benton. We thought they were
Rebels, at first, but soon saw they were two pilots belonging to the
fleet, who had started the day before for Vicksburg, to pilot Commodore
Farragut&#8217;s fleet to Memphis. They had been concealed during the day, not
daring to move. The evacuation of Fort Pillow rendered it unnecessary
for them to continue the voyage. They said that eight Rebel gunboats
were a short distance below us.</p>

<p>We moved on slowly, and came to anchor about nine o&#8217;clock, near a place
called by all the rivermen Paddy&#8217;s Hen and Chickens, about two miles
above Memphis.</p>

<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>

<h3>THE NAVAL FIGHT AT MEMPHIS.</h3>

<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">n</span>
the evening of the 5th of June, while we were lying above Memphis,
Commodore Montgomery, commanding the fleet of Rebel gunboats built by
the citizens and ladies of Memphis, was making a speech in the Gayoso
Hall of that city. There was great excitement. It was known at noon that
Fort Pillow was evacuated. The stores were immediately closed. Some
people commenced packing up their goods to leave,&mdash;expecting that the
city would be burned if the Yankees obtained possession. Commodore
Montgomery said:&mdash;</p>

<p>&#8220;I have no intention of retreating any farther. I have come here, that
you may see Lincoln&#8217;s gunboats sent to the bottom by the fleet which you
built and manned.&#8221;</p>

<p>The rabble cheered him, and believed his words. On the morning of the
6th, one of the newspapers assured the people that the Federal fleet
would not reach the city. It said:&mdash;</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;All obstructions to their progress are not yet <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>removed, and probably
will not be. The prospect is very good for a grand naval engagement
which shall eclipse anything ever seen before. There are many who would
like the engagement to occur, who do not much relish the prospect of its
occurring very near the city. They think deeper water and scope and
verge enough for such an encounter may be found farther up the river.
All, however, are rejoiced to learn that Memphis will not fall till
conclusions are first tried on water, and at the cannon&#8217;s mouth.&#8221;<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p></div>

<p>I was awake early enough to see the brightening of the morning. Never
was there a lovelier daybreak. The woods were full of song-birds. The
air was balmy. A few light clouds, fringed with gold, lay along the
eastern horizon.</p>

<p>The fleet of five gunboats was anchored in a line across the river. The
Benton was nearest the Tennessee shore, next was the Carondelet, then
the Louisville, St. Louis, and, lastly, the Cairo. Near by the Cairo,
tied up to the Arkansas shore, were the Queen City and the Monarch,&mdash;two
of Colonel Ellet&#8217;s rams. The tugs Jessie Benton and Spitfire hovered
near the Benton, Commodore Davis&#8217;s flag-ship. It was their place to be
within call, to carry orders to the other boats of the fleet.</p>

<p>Before sunrise the anchors were up, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>boats kept their position in
the stream by the slow working of the engines.</p>

<p>Commodore Davis waved his hand, and the Jessie Benton was alongside the
flag-ship in a moment.</p>

<p>&#8220;Drop down towards the city, and see if you can discover the Rebel
fleet,&#8221; was the order.</p>

<p>I jumped on board the tug. Below us was the city. The first rays of the
sun were gilding the church-spires. A crowd of people stood upon the
broad levee between the city and the river. They were coming from all
the streets, on foot, on horseback, in carriages,&mdash;men, women, and
children&mdash;ten thousand, to see Lincoln&#8217;s gunboats sent to the bottom.
Above the court-house, and from flagstaffs, waved the flag of the
Confederacy. A half-dozen river steamers lay at the landing, but the
Rebel fleet was not in sight. At our right hand was the wide marsh on
the tongue of land where Wolfe River empties into the Mississippi. Upon
our left were the cotton-trees and button-woods, and the village of
Hopedale at the terminus of the Little Rock and Memphis Railroad. We
dropped slowly down the stream, the tug floating in the swift current,
running deep and strong as it sweeps past the city.</p>

<p>The crowd increased. The levee was black with the multitude. The windows
were filled. The flat roofs of the warehouses were covered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>with the
excited throng, which surged to and fro as we upon the tug came down
into the bend, almost within talking distance.</p>

<p>Suddenly a boat came out from the Arkansas shore, where it had been
lying concealed from view behind the forest,&mdash;another, another, eight of
them. They formed in two lines, in front of the city.</p>

<p>Nearest the city, in the front line, was the General Beauregard; next,
the Little Rebel; then the General Price and the Sumter. In the second
line, behind the Beauregard, was the General Lovell; behind the Little
Rebel was the Jeff Thompson; behind the General Price was the General
Bragg; and behind the Sumter was the Van Dorn.</p>

<p>These boats were armed as follows:&mdash;</p>

<div class="centered">
<table border="0" width="40%" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="SHIPS">

<tr>
<td align="left">General Beauregard,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4 guns</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Little Rebel (flag-ship),</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">2</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">General Price,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Sumter,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">3</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">General Lovell,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">General Thompson,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">General Bragg,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">3</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">General Van Dorn,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&mdash;</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="right">Total,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">28</td></tr>
</table></div>

<p>The guns were nearly all rifled, and were of long range. They were
pivoted, and could be whirled in all directions. The boilers of the
boats <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>were casemated and protected by iron plates, but the guns were
exposed.</p>

<p><a name="memphis" id="memphis"></a></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;">
<img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:c:charles-coffin-my-days-nights-on-the-battle-field-i303.jpg" width="362" class="jpg2 ispace" height="400" alt="Naval Fight at Memphis, June 6, 1862." title="" />
<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Naval Fight at Memphis</span>, June 6, 1862.</span></div>

<div class="centerbox bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="3" summary="MEMPHIS">

<tr><td align="right">1</td>
<td align="left">Federal Gunboats.</td>
<td align="right">7,7</td>
<td align="left">General Thompson.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">2,2</td>
<td align="left">General Beauregard.</td>
<td align="right">8,8</td>
<td align="left">General Bragg.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">3,3</td>
<td align="left">Little Rebel.</td>
<td align="right">9,</td>
<td align="left">General Van Dorn.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">4,4</td>
<td align="left">4,4 General Price.</td>
<td align="right">Q</td>
<td align="left">Queen City.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">5,5</td>
<td align="left">Sumter.</td>
<td align="right">M</td>
<td align="left">Monarch.</td></tr>

<tr><td align="right">6,6</td>
<td align="left">General Lovell.</td>
<td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>The accompanying diagram will show you the position of both fleets at
the beginning and at the close of the engagement.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>Slowly and steadily they came into line. The Little Rebel moved through
the fleet, and Commodore Montgomery issued his orders to each captain in
person.</p>

<p>The Benton and St. Louis dropped down towards the city, to protect the
tug. A signal brought us back, and the boats moved up-stream again, to
the original position.</p>

<p>There was another signal from the flag-ship, and then on board all the
boats there was a shrill whistle. It was the boatswain piping all hands
to quarters. The drummer beat his roll, and the marines seized their
muskets. The sailors threw open the ports, ran out the guns, brought up
shot and shells, stowed away furniture, took down rammers and sponges,
seized their handspikes, stripped off their coats, rolled up their
sleeves, loaded the cannon, and stood by their pieces. Cutlasses and
boarding-pikes were distributed. Last words were said. They waited for
orders.</p>

<p>&#8220;Let the men have their breakfasts,&#8221; was the order from the flag-ship.</p>

<p>Commodore Davis believed in fighting on full stomachs. Hot coffee,
bread, and beef were carried round to the men.</p>

<p>The Rebel fleet watched us awhile. The crowd upon the shore increased.
Perhaps they thought the Yankees did not dare to fight. At length the
Rebel fleet began to move up-stream.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>&#8220;Round to; head down-stream; keep in line with the flag-ship,&#8221; was the
order which we on board the Jessie Benton carried to each boat of the
line. We returned, and took our position between the Benton and
Carondelet.</p>

<p>I stood on the top of the tug, beside the pilot-house. Stand with me
there, and behold the scene. The sun is an hour high, and its bright
rays lie in a broad line of silver light upon the eddying stream. You
look down the river to the city, and behold the housetops, the windows,
the levee, crowded with men, women, and children. The flag of the
Confederacy floats defiantly. The Rebel fleet is moving slowly towards
us. A dense cloud of smoke rolls up from the chimneys of the steamers,
and floats over the city.</p>

<p>There is a flash, a puff from the Little Rebel, a sound of something
unseen in the air, and a column of water is thrown up a mile behind us.
A second shot, from the Beauregard, falls beside the Benton. A third,
from the Price, aimed at the Carondelet, misses by a foot or two, and
dashes up the water between the Jessie Benton and the flag-ship. It is a
sixty-four-pounder. If it had struck us, our boat would have been
splintered to kindlings in an instant.</p>

<p>Commodore Montgomery sees that the boats of the Federal fleet have their
iron-plated bows <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>up-stream. He comes up rapidly, to crush them at the
stern, where there are no iron plates. A signal goes up from the Benton,
and the broadsides begin to turn towards the enemy. The crowd upon the
levee think that the Federal boats are retreating, and hurrah for
Commodore Montgomery.</p>

<p>There has been profound silence on board the Union gunboats. The men are
waiting for the word. It comes.</p>

<p>&#8220;Open fire, and take close quarters.&#8221;</p>

<p>The Cairo begins. A ten-inch shot screams through the air, and skips
along the water towards the Little Rebel. Another, from the St. Louis. A
third, from the Louisville. Another, from the Carondelet, and lastly,
from the Benton. The gunners crouch beside their guns, to track the
shot. Some are too high, some too low. There is an answering roar from
all the Rebel boats. The air is full of indescribable noises. The water
boils and bubbles around us. It is tossed up in columns and jets. There
are sudden flashes overhead, explosions, and sulphurous clouds, and
whirring of ragged pieces of iron. The uproar increases. The cannonade
reverberates from the high bluff behind the city to the dark-green
forest upon the Arkansas shore, and echoes from bend to bend.</p>

<p>The space between the fleets is gradually lessening. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>The Yankees are not
retreating, but advancing. A shot strikes the Little Rebel. One tears
through the General Price. Another through the General Bragg. Commodore
Montgomery is above the city, and begins to fall back. He is not ready
to come to close quarters. Fifteen minutes pass by, but it seems not
more than two. How fast one lives at such a time! All of your senses are
quickened. You see everything, hear everything. The blood rushes through
your veins. Your pulse is quickened. You long to get at the enemy,&mdash;to
sweep over the intervening space, lay your boat alongside, pour in a
broadside, and knock them to pieces in a twinkling! You care nothing for
the screaming of the shot, the bursting of the shells. You have got over
all that. You have but one thought,&mdash;<i>to tear down that hateful
flaunting flag, to smite the enemies of your country into the dust</i>!</p>

<p>While this cannonade was going on, I noticed the two rams casting loose
from the shore. I heard the tinkle of the engineer&#8217;s bell for more fire
and a full head of steam. The sharpshooters took their places. The Queen
came out from the shelter of the great cottonwoods, crossed the river,
and passed down between the Benton and Carondelet. Colonel Ellet stood
beside the pilot, and waved his hand to us on board the Jessie Benton.
The Monarch was a little later, and, instead of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>following in the wake of
the Queen, passed between the Cairo and the St. Louis.</p>

<p>See the Queen! Her great wheels whirl up clouds of spray, and leave a
foaming path. She carries a silver train sparkling in the morning light.
She ploughs a furrow, which rolls the width of the river. Our boat
dances like a feather on the waves. She gains the intervening space
between the fleets. Never moved a Queen so determinedly, never one more
fleet,&mdash;almost leaping from the water. The Stars and Stripes stream to
the breeze beneath the black banner unfolding, expanding, and trailing
far away from her smoke-stacks. There is a surging, hissing, and
smothered screaming of the pent-up steam in her boilers, as if they had
put on all energy for the moment. They had;&mdash;flesh, blood, bones, iron,
brass, steel,&mdash;animate and inanimate,&mdash;were nerved up for the trial of
the hour!</p>

<p>Officers and men behold her in astonishment and admiration. For a moment
there is silence. The men stand transfixed by their guns, forgetting
their duties. Then the Rebel gunners, as if moved by a common impulse,
bring their guns to bear upon her. She is exposed on the right, on the
left, and in front. It is a terrible cross-fire. Solid shot scream past.
Shells explode around her. She is pierced through and through. Her
timbers crack. She quivers beneath the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>shock, but does not falter.
On&mdash;on&mdash;faster&mdash;straight towards the General Beauregard.</p>

<p>The commander of that vessel adroitly avoids the stroke. The Queen
misses her aim. She sweeps by like a race-horse, receiving the fire of
the Beauregard on one side and the Little Rebel on the other. She comes
round in a graceful curve, almost lying down upon her side, as if to
cool her heated smoke-stacks in the stream. The stern guns of the
Beauregard send their shot through the bulwarks of the Queen. A splinter
strikes the brave commander, Colonel Ellet. He is knocked down, bruised,
and stunned for a moment, but springs to his feet, steadies himself
against the pilot-house, and gives his directions as coolly as if
nothing had happened.</p>

<p>The Queen passes round the Little Rebel, and approaches the General
Price.</p>

<p>&#8220;Take her aft the wheelhouse,&#8221; says Colonel Ellet to the pilot. The
commander of the Price turns towards the approaching antagonist. Her
wheels turn. She surges ahead to escape the terrible blow. Too late.
There is a splintering, crackling, crashing of timbers. The broadside of
the boat is crushed in. It is no more than a box of cards or thin
tissue-paper before the terrible blow.</p>

<p>There are jets of flame and smoke from the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>loop-holes of the Queen. The
sharpshooters are at it. You hear the rattling fire, and see the crew of
the Price running wildly over the deck, tossing their arms. The
unceasing thunder of the cannonade drowns their cries. A moment, and a
white flag goes up. The Price surrenders.</p>

<p>But the Queen has another antagonist, the Beauregard. The Queen is
motionless, but the Beauregard sweeps down with all her powers. There is
another crash. The bulwarks of the Queen tremble before the stroke.
There is a great opening in her hull. But no white flag is displayed.
There are no cries for quarter, no thoughts of surrendering. The
sharpshooters pick off the gunners of the Beauregard, compelling them to
take shelter beneath their casemates.</p>

<p>We who see it hold our breaths. We are unmindful of the explosions
around us. How will it end? Will the Queen sink with all her brave men
on board?</p>

<p>But her consort is at hand, the Monarch, commanded by Captain Ellet,
brother of Colonel Ellet. He was five or ten minutes behind the Queen in
starting, but he has appeared at the right moment. He, too, has been
unmindful of the shot and shell falling around him. He aims straight as
an arrow for the Beauregard. The Beauregard is stiff, stanch, and
strong, but her timbers, planks, knees, and braces are no more than
laths before <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>the powerful stroke of the Monarch. The sharpshooters pour
in their fire. The engineer of the Monarch puts his force-pumps in play
and drenches the decks of the Beauregard with scalding water. An officer
of the Beauregard raises a white cloth upon a rammer. It is a signal for
surrender. The sharpshooters stop firing. There are the four boats,
three of them floating helplessly in the stream, the water pouring into
the hulls, through the splintered planking.</p>

<p>Captain Ellet saw that the Queen was disabled, and took her in tow to
the Arkansas shore. Prompted by humanity, instead of falling upon the
other vessels of the fleet he took the General Price to the shore.</p>

<p>The Little Rebel was pierced through her hull by a half-dozen shots.
Commodore Montgomery saw that the day was lost. He ran alongside the
Beauregard, and, notwithstanding the vessel had surrendered, took the
crew on board, to escape. But a shot from the Cairo passed through the
boilers. The steam rushed out like the hissing of serpents. The boat was
near the shore, and the crew jumped into the water, climbed the bank,
and fled to the woods. The Cairo gave them a broadside of shells as they
ran.</p>

<p>The Beauregard was fast settling. The Jessie Benton ran alongside. All
had fled save the wounded. There was a pool of blood upon the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>deck. The
sides of the casemate were stained with crimson drops, yet warm from the
heart of a man who had been killed by a shell.</p>

<p>&#8220;Help, quick!&#8221; was the cry of Captain Maynadier.</p>

<p>We rushed on board in season to save a wounded officer. The vessel
settled slowly to the bottom.</p>

<p>&#8220;I thank you,&#8221; said the officer, &#8220;for saving me from drowning. You are
my enemies, but you have been kinder to me than those whom I called my
friends. One of my brother officers when he fled, had the meanness to
pick my pocket and steal my watch!&#8221;</p>

<p>Thus those who begun by stealing public property, forts, and arsenals,
did not hesitate to violate their honor,&mdash;fleeing after surrendering,
forsaking their wounded comrade, robbing him of his valuables, and
leaving him to drown!</p>

<p>There is no cessation of the cannonade. The fight goes on. The Benton is
engaged with the General Lovell. They are but a few rods apart, and both
within a stone&#8217;s-throw of the multitude upon the shore.</p>

<p>Captain Phelps stands by one of the Benton&#8217;s rifled guns. He waits to
give a raking shot, runs his eye along the sights, and gives the word to
fire. The steel-pointed shot enters the starboard side of the hull, by
the water-line. Timbers, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>braces, planks, the whole side of the boat
seemingly, are torn out.</p>

<p>The water pours in. The vessel settles to the guards, to the ports, to
the top of the casemate, reels, and with a lurch disappears. It is the
work of three minutes.</p>

<p>The current sets swiftly along the shore. The plummet gives seventy-five
feet of water. The vessel goes down like a lump of lead. Her
terror-stricken crew are thrown into the current. It is an appalling
sight. A man with his left arm torn, broken, bleeding, and dangling by
his side, runs wildly over the deck. There is unspeakable horror in his
face. He beckons now to those on shore, and now to his friends on board
the boats. He looks imploringly to heaven, and calls for help.
Unavailing the cry. He disappears in the eddying whirlpool. A hundred
human beings are struggling for life, buffeting the current, raising
their arms, catching at sticks, straws, planks, and timbers. &#8220;Help!
help! help!&#8221; they cry. It is a wild wail of agony, mingled with the
cannonade.</p>

<p>There is no help for them on shore. There, within a dozen rods, are
their friends, their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives,
children, they who urged them to join the service, who compelled them to
enlist. All are powerless to aid them!</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>They who stand upon the shore behold those whom they love defeated,
crushed, drowning, calling for help! It is an hour when heart-strings
are wrung. Tears, cries, prayers, efforts, all are unavailing.</p>

<p>Commodore Davis beholds them. His heart is touched. &#8220;Save them, lads,&#8221;
he says.</p>

<p>The crews of the Benton and Carondelet rush to their boats. So eager are
they to save the struggling men that one of the boats is swamped in the
launching. Away they go, picking up one here, another there,&mdash;ten or
twelve in all. A few reach the shore and are helped up the bank by
lookers-on; but fifty or sixty sink to rise no more. How noble the act!
How glorious! Bright amid all the distress, all the horror, all the
infamous conduct of men who have forsworn themselves, will shine
forever, like a star of heaven, this act of humanity!</p>

<p>The General Price, General Beauregard, Little Rebel, and General
Lovell&mdash;one half of the Rebel fleet&mdash;were disposed of. The other vessels
attempted to flee. The Union fleet had swept steadily on in an unbroken
line. Amid all the appalling scenes of the hour there was no lull in the
cannonade. While saving those who had lost all power of resistance,
there was no cessation of effort to crush those who still resisted.</p>

<p>A short distance below the Little Rebel, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>Jeff Thompson, riddled by
shot, and in flames, was run ashore. A little farther down-stream the
General Bragg was abandoned, also in flames from the explosion of a
nine-inch shell, thrown by the St. Louis. The crews leaped on shore, and
fled to the woods. The Sumter went ashore, near the Little Rebel. The
Van Dorn alone escaped. She was a swift steamer, and was soon beyond
reach of the guns of the fleet.</p>

<p>The fight is over. The thunder of the morning dies away, and the birds
renew their singing. The abandoned boats are picked up. The Jeff
Thompson cannot be saved. The flames leap around the chimneys. The
boilers are heated to redness. A pillar of fire springs upward, in long
lances of light. The interior of the boat&mdash;boilers, beams of iron,
burning planks, flaming timbers, cannon-shot, shells&mdash;is lifted five
hundred feet in air, in an expanding, unfolding cloud, filled with loud
explosions. The scattered fragments rain upon forest, field, and river,
as if meteors of vast proportions had fallen from heaven to earth,
taking fire in their descent. There is a shock which shakes all Memphis,
and announces to the disappointed, terror-stricken, weeping, humiliated
multitude that the drama which they have played so madly for a
twelvemonth is over, that retribution for crime has come at last!</p>

<p>Thus in an hour&#8217;s time the Rebel fleet was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>annihilated. Commodore
Montgomery was to have sent the Union boats to the bottom; but his
expectations were not realized, his promises not fulfilled. It is not
known how many men were lost on the Rebel side, but probably from eighty
to a hundred. Colonel Ellet was the only one injured on board the Union
fleet. The gunboats were uninjured. The Queen of the West was the only
boat disabled. In striking contrast was the damage to Montgomery&#8217;s
fleet:&mdash;</p>

<div class="centerbox2 bbox">
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="3" summary="DAMAGE">

<tr>
<td align="left">Sunk,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">General Price,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4 guns</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">General Beauregard,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">General Lovell,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Burned,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">Jeff Thompson,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">4&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">General Bragg,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">3&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">Captured,</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">Sumter,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">3&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">Little Rebel,</span></td>
<td align="left"><span class="add5em">2&nbsp;&nbsp;&#8220;</span></td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&mdash;</td></tr>

<tr>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">&nbsp;</td>
<td align="left">24</td></tr>
</table></div></div>

<p>The bow guns of Commodore Davis&#8217;s fleet only were used in the attack,
making sixteen guns in all brought to bear upon the Rebel fleet. The
Cairo and St. Louis fired broadsides upon the crews as they fled to the
woods.</p>

<hr class="medium" />

<p>The retreating of the Rebel fleet carried the Union gunboats several
miles below the city before the contest was over. At ten o&#8217;clock
Commodore Davis steamed back to the city. There <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span>stood the multitude,
confounded by what had taken place. A boat came off from the shore,
pulled by two oarsmen, and bringing a citizen, Dr. Dickerson, who waved
a white handkerchief. He was a messenger from the Mayor, tendering the
surrender of the city. There were some men in the crowd who shook their
fists at us, and cried, &#8220;O you blue-bellied Yankees! You devils! You
scoundrels!&#8221; We could bear it very well, after the events of the
morning. A few hurrahed for Jeff Davis, but the multitude made no
demonstration.</p>

<p>A regiment landed, and marched up Monroe Street to the court-house. I
had the pleasure of accompanying the soldiers. The band played Yankee
Doodle and Hail Columbia. How proudly the soldiers marched! They halted
in front of the court-house. An officer went to the top of the building,
tore down the Rebel flag, and flung out the Stars and Stripes.</p>

<p>Wild and hearty were the cheers of the troops. The buried flag had risen
from its grave, to wave forevermore,&mdash;the emblem of power, justice,
liberty, and law!</p>

<p>Thus the Upper Mississippi was opened again to trade and the peaceful
pursuits of commerce. How wonderfully it was repossessed. The fleet lost
not a man at Island No. 10, not a man at New Madrid, not a man at Fort
Pillow, not a man at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>Memphis, by the fire of the Rebels! How often had
we been told that the strongholds of the Rebels were impregnable! How
often that the Union gunboats would be blown up by torpedoes, or sent to
the bottom by the batteries or by the Rebel fleet! How often that the
river would never be opened till the Confederacy was recognized as an
independent power! General Butler was in possession of New Orleans,
Memphis was held by Commodore Davis, and the mighty river was all but
open through its entire length to trade and navigation. In one year this
was accomplished. So moves a nation in a career unparalleled in history,
rescuing from the grasp of pirates and plunderers the garnered wealth of
centuries.</p>

<p>In 1861, when Tennessee seceded, the steamer Platte Valley, owned in St.
Louis, belonging to the St. Louis and Memphis Steamboat Company, was the
last boat permitted to leave for the North. All others were stolen by
the secessionists, who repudiated the debts they owed Northern men. The
Platte Valley, commanded by Captain Wilcox, was in Commodore Davis&#8217;s
fleet of transports. Captain Wilcox recognized some of his old
acquaintances in the crowd, and informed them that in a day or two he
would resume his regular trips between St. Louis and Memphis! They were
ready to send up cargoes of sugar and cotton. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>So trade accompanies the
flag of our country wherever it goes.</p>

<p>This narrative which I have given you is very tame. Look at the scene
once more,&mdash;the early morning, the cloudless sky, the majestic river,
the hostile fleets, the black pall of smoke overhanging the city, the
forest, the stream, the moving of the boats, the terrific cannonade, the
assembled thousands, the glorious advance of the Queen and the Monarch,
the crashing and splintering of timbers, the rifle-shots, the sinking of
vessels, the cries of drowning men, the gallantry of the crews of the
Benton and Carondelet, the weeping and wailing of the multitude, the
burnings, the explosions, the earthquake shock, which shakes the city to
its foundations! These are the events of a single hour. Remember the
circumstances,&mdash;that the fight is before the city, before expectant
thousands, who have been invited to the entertainment,&mdash;the sinking of
the Union fleet,&mdash;that they are to see the prowess of their husbands,
brothers, and friends, that their strength is utter weakness,&mdash;that,
after thirteen months of robbery, outrage, and villany, the despised,
insulted flag of the Union rises from its burial, and waves once more
above them in stainless purity and glory! Take all under consideration,
if you would feel the moral sublimity of the hour!</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>In these pages, my young friends, I have endeavored to make a
contribution of facts to the history of this great struggle of our
beloved country for national life. It has been my privilege to see other
engagements at Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg, and if this
book is acceptable to you, I hope to be able to tell the stories of
those terrible battles.</p>

<h3>THE END</h3>

<hr class="large" />

<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Quarry.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Richmond Enquirer.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Rebel reports in Rebellion Record.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Estvan.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Charleston Mercury.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Mobile Tribune.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Lynchburg Republican.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> &#8220;Thirteen Months in the Rebel Service.&#8221;</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Bragg&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Stevenson.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Stevenson.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Bragg&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Bragg&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Colonel Moore&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Ruggles&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Chalmers&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Colonel Fagan&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Colonel Allen&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Beauregard&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Beauregard&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Nelson&#8217;s Report.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Captain Geer.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Rebellion Record.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Memphis Appeal.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Memphis Argus.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Hospital Incidents, New York Post, October 22, 1863.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Memphis Avalanche.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Memphis Avalanche, June 6, 1862</p></div>

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