Chapter XIV: Part 14

The boats kept advancing slowly and steadily for about half an hour, when the order was given to slack the engines, so as to prevent them from coming in too close range. The firing then increased to a terrific rate on both sides. The enemy poured 32 and 64-pound balls into the vessels with great effect, and the gunners returned their 8-inch shell and 64-pound rifle balls with unusual skill. In the heat of the action, a shot from the enemy’s water battery carried away the flagstaff of the St. Louis; almost the next shot took the chimney guys of the same boat. A well sent ball from the St. Louis soon struck the flagstaff of the enemy, which was on the top of the hill behind the batteries. This terrible fire lasted about half an hour, when a 64-pound ball from the middle battery cut the tiller ropes of the gunboat Louisville, rendering her steering apparatus unmanageable. About the same time a shot entered one of the windows of the pilot-house of the Carondelet, mortally wounding the pilot. Thus the control of two Union boats was in a great degree lost. Shortly after this, a 32-pound ball penetrated the pilot-house of the St. Louis, mortally wounding one of the pilots, injuring two other pilots, and severely wounding Flag-officer Foote. There were five men in the pilot-house at the time, only one of whom escaped injury. The room was filled with pieces of the broken wheel, chains, room furniture and rubbish of every sort; there was no one there to take the helm save the Commodore—no chance to call another to his aid—so, equal to the emergency, the gallant old Commodore seized the remaining handles of the wheel, and for a quarter of an hour acted the double part of commander and pilot, and at last, when compelled to fall back, he kept bow to the foe, and gave his orders as calmly and coolly as when first entering the action.

At about the middle of the engagement, a 32-pound rifle shot took away the flagstaff and Commodore’s pennant. In a moment half a dozen men sprang out of the ports, caught the mutilated staff upon their shoulders, hoisted the “blue flag” to its place, where they stood and held it for several minutes, in the face of a most murderous fire.

Thus three powerful vessels were disabled by accidents that do not happen twice in a hundred times. The men on board were unwilling to give up the fight. The enemy had been driven from the lower battery, and their fire had slackened perceptibly. What remained to be done? To fight in such a current, with unmanageable boats, would, the Commodore knew, be worse than folly. Reluctantly, therefore, he ordered them to fall back.

The vessels then stopped their engines and floated slowly from their positions. They had been within two hundred yards of the fort. The enemy soon saw the condition of the fleet, and redoubled their fire. They ran to the lower batteries and opened them on the retiring vessels with terrific force. One of the guns of the Carondelet had burst in the middle of the action, and the Pittsburg had received two balls below water mark, causing her to leak rapidly. But they replied well to the reinvigorated foe, and fired the last shot.

The fleet retired in good order, and anchored two miles below the fort. The injuries to the gunboats were not very great. The principal damage to the St. Louis was that sustained by the shot entering her pilot-house. She was struck 61 times; the Pittsburg 47; the Carondelet 54; and the Louisville about 40. The enemy fired about 500 shots.

The fleet fired a little more than 300, about 75 of which were 8-inch shells.

The demeanor of Commodore Foote during the engagement was the subject of admiration with every man in the fleet. His countenance was as placid and his voice as mild in the heat of the action as if he had been engaged in social conversation. He stood in the pilot-house for a long time, watching the effect of every shot. When he saw a shell burst inside of the fort, he instantly commended the deliberate aim of the marksman, by a message through his speaking tube. When the balls fell short, he expressed his dissatisfaction in such words as “A little further, man; you are falling too short.” During a part of the action he was on the gun-deck, superintending the care of the wounded. In the end, nothing but the pilot’s assurance that his vessel could not be managed with her broken wheel, induced him to consent to a withdrawal.

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Incidents on board the Louisville were not wanting. Captain Dove had just complimented one of the gunners on a splendid shot, when the shot that played such havoc entered his port, and completely severed the gunner in twain, scattering his blood and brains over Captain Dove’s person. But the Captain never blanched; he only wiped his face, and in an instant was superintending the replacement of another gun as if nothing had happened. Cool, brave and determined, he was throughout the action a support to his men and an honor to his country.

THE LAND ATTACK.

In addition to the two water batteries already described, a third had been commenced, but was not at the time completed. The fort stood on a hill, and within its ample lines nearly a hundred large and substantial log-houses had been erected for quarters. In order to prevent any lodgment of an opposing force on the hills back of the fort, it was necessary to construct a line of defenses around the fort, at the distance of a mile, and in some places more than a mile, from the principal work. These outworks extended from a creek on the north side of the works to another which entered a quarter of a mile below. Both of these streams were filled with backwater from the swollen river, for the distance of three-quarters of a mile from their mouths. This chain of breastworks and the miry bed of the creeks formed a most complete impediment to the marching of an artillery force within sight of the main fort. This line of works was not less than three miles in length, breast high, and formed from a ditch on either side, so as to answer the purpose of rifle-pits and parapets. At intervals on every elevation platforms had been constructed and mounted with howitzers and light field pieces. Such were the works, defended by from 20,000 to 25,000 men, that the national troops were determined to take by assault.

Early on the morning of the 12th of February, the national troops left Fort Henry with two days’ rations in their haversacks, without tents or wagons, except such as were necessary to convey a surplus of commissary stores and ammunition, and ambulances for the sick.

The expedition under the command of Brigadier-General U. S. Grant, was divided into three columns—the division under Brigadier-General McClernand, taking the road from Fort Henry to Dover, running to the south of the enemy’s position; the second division, under command of Brigadier-General C. F. Smith, taking the direct or telegraph road to the fort; the third division, subsequently placed under the lead of Brigadier-General L. Wallace, being sent round by Paducah and Smithland, ascending the Cumberland, under the escort of the gunboats. Each of these divisions consisted of about ten regiments of infantry, batteries, and cavalry.

_First Division, Brigadier-General McClernand._—_1st Brigade_, Col. Oglesby, acting.—8th Illinois, Lieut. Col. Rhodes; 18th Illinois, Col. Lawler; 29th Illinois, Col. Reardon; 13th Illinois, Col. Dennis; 31st Illinois, Col. J. A. Logan; Schwartz’s battery; Dresser’s battery; 4 battalions Illinois cavalry. _2d Brigade_, Col. W. H. L. Wallace, acting.—11th Illinois, Lieut. Col. Hart; 20th Illinois, Col. Marsh; 48th Illinois, Col. Smith; 49th Illinois, Col. Hainey; Taylor’s battery; McAllister’s battery; 4th and 7th Illinois cavalry, Cols. Kellogg and Dickey.

_Second Division, Brigadier-General C. F. Smith._—_1st Brigade_, Col. Cook, acting.—7th Illinois, 50th Illinois, 12th Iowa; 13th Missouri, Col. Wright; 52d Indiana; 3 batteries Missouri 1st artillery, Maj. Cavender commanding; Capts. Richardson, Stone, and Walker. _2d Brigade_, Col. Lauman, acting.—7th Iowa, Lieut.-Col. Parrott; 2d Iowa, Col. Tuttle; 14th Iowa, Col. Shaw; 25th Indiana, Col. Veatch; 56th Indiana.

_Third Division, Brigadier-General Lewis Wallace._—_1st Brigade_, Col. Croft, acting.—17th Kentucky, 25th Kentucky, 31st Indiana, 44th Indiana, Col. Hugh B. Reed. _2d Brigade_, Col. Thayer, acting.—1st Nebraska, Lieut. Col. McCord; 13th Missouri, Col. Wright; 48th Ohio, Col. Sullivan; 58th Ohio, Col. Bausenwein; Willett’s Chicago battery.

By nine o’clock all the forces were on the march. The division of General McClernand took the upper or southern road to Dover. The division of General Smith proceeded by the northern or telegraph road, running directly to the fort. The route lay through broken and undulating lands. Small streams of the purest water were crossed at every ravine. The hills were in places covered with green pines and tall, heavy timber. The weather was mild and spring-like; the men in admirable spirits, marching in regular order, and the surrounding scenery almost tropical in its luxuriance. At about two o’clock in the afternoon the advanced skirmishers of McClernand’s division came in sight of the enemy’s tents stretching between the hill upon which the fort was situated, and the next, on Dover ledge.

Word was passed back to General Grant that the enemy and his camp had been sighted. General Grant at once ordered up the rear of the column. Dresser’s battery was posted on an eminence overlooking the tents, and a few shells sent into the camp. There was a general and promiscuous scattering of men from the camps into the earthworks to right and left. General Grant immediately ordered the division of General Smith into line of battle on the ravine back of the main elevation. A column of men was pushed up on the left of the fort. Scouts returned saying that the breastworks could be discovered on the extreme left. An hour or two was then spent in reconnoitering along the various hills surrounding the enemy’s position.

This preliminary skirmish was soon over, and the enemy had fallen back within his intrenchments, when the shades of night fell upon the two armies. Many of the Federal soldiers, in anticipation of an engagement, had relieved themselves of their overcoats, blankets, and haversacks, and were altogether unprepared for the experience of the night. But cheerfully kindling their camp-fires, under a mild and genial temperature, they gathered around the cheerful blaze and gradually fell into slumberous dreams of home, of conquest, or of love.

During the night the enemy made a sortie on the extreme right of the Federal lines, which by its suddenness created some confusion for the time, but he was repulsed and compelled to retire.

On Thursday, the 13th, the attack commenced. The morning sun rose brightly on the scene. The men were soon engaged in cooking what provisions could be obtained. Several hogs running at large in the woods had been shot for breakfast, and a sumptuous meal was made from their flesh. At sunrise the firing of riflemen commenced. The enemy could be descried behind his breastworks. The most available positions were selected for batteries, and by eight o’clock a regular exchange of shot and shell had commenced across the ravine which separated the combatants. Taylor’s battery was on the extreme right, next came Schwartz’s, further to the left. Further still was a section of an Illinois battery. Across a deep ravine and in the centre of the position was Captain Richardson’s First Missouri Light Artillery, on the point of a ridge provokingly near the enemy’s lines. Higher upon the same rise was McAlister’s battery of twenty-four pound howitzers, and on the left could be heard at intervals an Iowa battery.

The long established form of opening the fight by a contest of sharpshooters and artillery was observed. For two hours nothing was to be heard but the loud thuds of cannon, with the relief of a sharp crack of rifles, and an occasional report of a musket, which in the distance could hardly be distinguished from a field piece. Major Cavender, of the Missouri First, sighted his twenty-pound Parrott rifle guns. Two or three shots had been sent whizzing through the trees, when “clash” came a shot in front of the piece. Without moving a muscle the major completed his task, and bang! went a response. Bang went another from the sister-piece under the intrepid captain. A second was received from the fort, passing over the hill, exploding just in the rear, a third burst directly over head, and the combat was kept up with spirit. Dresser’s battery poured out shell from his large howitzers in splendid style. The enemy held a slight advantage in position, and had the range with accuracy. The shells were falling fast around the batteries, doing however but little injury. A few minutes and a round shot passed over the gun, and carried away the shoulder and part of the breast of artilleryman Bernhard of Richardson’s battery, killing him almost instantly. The captain shifted his position three times during the morning, whenever the enemy got his range with too much accuracy.

On the extreme right Schwartz and Taylor were blazing away fearlessly. The ground between them and the intrenchments was nearly cleared of trees, and they could observe by the smoke the position of each other with accuracy. The firing from the batteries in McClernand’s division was continuous. An attempt had been made by the enemy to capture Taylor’s battery, which had been gallantly repulsed. The rebels had reached close upon the battery, and only an incessant shower of canister saved it from capture, the infantry not being formed in position to support it effectually. The Twentieth Illinois came up in time to drive the enemy into their works.

In the afternoon General McClernand determined to make a formidable assault of a redoubt of the enemy, fronting the centre of his right. The redoubt was the only one which could be distinctly seen, owing to timber and undergrowth. At this point the ground was for the most part void of large timber, the barren extending even beyond the road on the ridge which the Union troops passed. The batteries of this redoubt had a very perfect range, and gave the troops considerable uneasiness, by blazing away at them whenever they passed over the brow of the hill. Three regiments were detailed for the work—the Forty-eighth, Seventeenth and Forty-ninth Illinois. They advanced in line of battle order, the Forty-ninth, Colonel Morrison, on the right, the Seventeenth, under command of Major Smith, in the centre, and the Forty-eighth, Colonel Hainley, on the left. Colonel Morrison, as senior Colonel, led the attack. The advance was a most beautiful one. With skirmishers arrayed in front, the three regiments swept down the hill, over a knoll, down a ravine, and up the high hill on which the redoubt was situated, some two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet in height, covered with brush and stumps, all the time receiving a galling fire of grape, shell and musketry, with a precision which would have done them credit on the parade ground. The breastworks were nearly reached, when Colonel Morrison, while gallantly leading his men, was struck by a musket ball. The captain of the company on his right was also killed, while the Forty-ninth fell into some confusion; but unappalled the Seventeenth still gallantly pressed forward and penetrated even to the very foot of the works. But it was not in the power of man to scale the abattis before them. Brush piled upon brush, with sharp points, fronted them wherever they turned; so, after a few interchanges of musketry with the swarming regiments concentrated there, the word for retiring was given. It was done in good order, by filing off to the left and obliqueing into the woods below; but many a gallant soldier was left behind underneath the intrenchments he had vainly sought to mount. They were not, however, destined to die unavenged. Scarcely, had their retiring columns got out of range, ere Taylor’s Chicago battery opened on the swarming rebel masses with shell and shrapnell. The effect was fearful. Each gun was aimed by the captain himself, and when its black mouth belched out sudden thunder, winrows of dead men fell in its track.

While this heavy firing had been heard on the right, General Smith, had ordered the enemy to be engaged on the left. The Twenty-fifth Indiana, at the head of a brigade, led the way. They had reached a position on the brow of a hill where the successful assault was afterwards made, and were met by the enemy in force, who swarmed behind the works, pouring a deadly hail of bullets and grape into them. The leading regiment broke in disorder after sustaining a hot fire, and the whole line fell back out of range. The object of the sortie had been accomplished, and the enemy’s forces drawn from the other side, but the advantage did not result, as might have been anticipated, in the occupation of the fort on the right by General McClernand.

Six companies of the famous regiment of riflemen, raised by Colonel Birge, accompanied the expedition from Fort Henry, and two companies afterwards arrived by the transports. This was a corps of picked men skilled in the use of the rifle, drawn from the North-west.

These hardy pioneers started out in the morning, with a hard biscuit in their pocket and a rifle on their shoulder, for the rebel earthworks, where they remained until relieved by a fresh gang. So adventurous were they, that many of them crept within fifty yards of the rifle-pits and exchanged words as well as shots with the enemy.

One piece in front of Dresser’s battery was kept in silence during the morning by the sharpshooters picking off their gunners. At last a shell from a Union battery, falling short, drove them away. One valiant southerner, to prove his bravery, jumped into the rampart to take aim; in an instant he was pierced by three balls, and fell out of the intrenchment, where he lay till nightfall.

The firing for the rest of the day was slow, and appeared by general consent to be abandoned. The Unionists seemed to have failed in every attempt on the fort. Wounded men were being brought in on stretchers; some limped along, supported by comrades, others staggered forward with bleeding hands and battered heads tied in handkerchiefs. The ambulances had brought in the maimed and seriously wounded. In the gray dusk of evening men came forth with spades to dig the graves of their fellow-soldiers, whose remains, stiffened in death, were lying under the pale stars.

Hardly had the camp-fires been kindled for the night when a drizzling shower set in, which soon turned into a steady fall of rain. The wind grew suddenly colder. The weather, hitherto so pleasant, was chilled in an hour to a wintry blast. Snow began to fall, and the mercury sank below freezing point.

Many of the soldiers had lost their overcoats and blankets during the day. Not a tent, except hospital tents, in the command. Provisions growing very scarce—the muddy, wet clothing freezing upon the chilled limbs of the hungry soldiers. It was a most comfortless night. Not five houses could be found within as many miles, and these were used as hospitals. Various expedients were devised to ward off the cold. Saplings were bent down and twigs interwoven into a shelter; leaves piled up made a kind of roof to keep off the snow. Large fires were kindled, and the men lay with their feet to the fire. The victims who perished of cold, exposure, hunger and neglect, on this night, will fill up a long page in the mortality record of that eventful siege.

On Friday, the conflict was maintained only by the pickets and sharpshooters, General Grant having concluded to await the arrival of additional forces, before assaulting the works.

Hitherto the investment had been made by the divisions of Generals McClernand and Smith, about ten thousand men each, including the cavalry and artillery. A third division had been sent up the Cumberland, and should, by reasonable calculation, have been opposite Fort Henry on Wednesday night. Here was Friday morning and no transports arrived. What could have befallen them? General L. Wallace, who had been left in command at Fort Henry, was summoned over, and arrived on Friday evening with two regiments of his brigade. Couriers were seen dashing along from the headquarters to the point where the boats were expected to land. About ten o’clock came the joyful intelligence that the gunboat fleet, with fifteen transports, had landed five miles below the fort. The troops from Fort Henry were pouring in, and close upon them came the troops from the boats. The men had heard something of the fighting, and moved up in splendid order, expecting to be marched directly into battle.

At about half-past two o’clock the sound as of thunder, with long reverberations in the distance, told that the river guns had at last opened their mouths, and were paying their compliments grandly to the rebel batteries. Now and then could be seen in the distance, high up in the air, a sudden puff of white smoke, which sprang as if from nothing, slowly curling in graceful folds, and melting away in a snow-white cloud; it was a bursting shell, instantly followed by the rumble of the gun from which it had been sent. The loud roar of the cannon kept growing thicker and faster. The heavy columbiads and Dahlgrens in the fort were returning the fire. One, two, three, and then half a dozen at once! The terrible game of death becomes wildly exciting!

The gunboats were advancing—the bombardment had fairly begun. The cheers went up in ten thousand voices. The death-dealing bolts of Fort Henry were falling thick and fast into Fort Donelson. But little did the besiegers know what protection and defence nature had laid against the ingenuity of art, which the insurgents had seized upon to accomplish their purpose! No one considered the importance of those great natural traverses and curtains of rock which had been thrown up by the primeval subterranean fires, nor what bomb-proofs and lunettes the waters of a thousand years had worn into the sides of those hills. The area of the place was so large that nearly the whole force could be removed from the water front, and thus leave the shells to explode against the bleak hill sides, or crush through the deserted huts of the enemy.

Meantime an occasional shot from the batteries surrounding the outer lines of defence must have told upon the enemy on the other side. The enemy replied but feebly. The entire morning had been in anxious expectancy, neither party being willing to risk the chances of another trial of valor. The weather was keen and frosty, the roads slippery and clogged with stiff mud.

Saturday, which was destined to witness the grand _denouement_ of the painful tragedies enacted about Donelson, was cold, damp and cheerless. The enemy, during the night, had transferred several of their batteries to portions of their works, within a few hundred feet of which the extreme right wing of the Federals was resting. Upon the first coming of dawn, these batteries suddenly opened on the Ninth, Eighteenth, Twenty-ninth, Thirtieth and Thirty-first regiments, comprising Oglesby’s brigade, which had the advance. Simultaneously with the opening of the batteries, a force of about twelve thousand infantry and a regiment of cavalry was hurled against the brigade with a vigor which, made against less steady and well-disciplined troops, must surely have resulted in their entire demolition.

Sudden and unexpected as was this sally on the part of the enemy, it did not find the gallant Illinoisans unprepared to meet them. The attack was made in columns of regiments, which poured in upon the little band from no less than three different directions. Every regiment of the brigade found itself opposed to two, and in many cases to no less than four different regiments. Undismayed, however, by the greatly superior force of the enemy, and unsupported by adequate artillery, the brigade not only held their own, but upon two occasions actually drove the rebels fairly into their intrenchments, but only to be pressed back again into their former position. At last having expended every round of their ammunition, they were obliged to retire and give way to advancing regiments of Colonel W. H. L. Wallace’s brigade, the Eleventh, Twentieth, Seventeenth, Forty-fifth, Forty-eighth Illinois, and Forty-ninth Indiana regiments.

By rapid firing from the two batteries of Taylor and Schwartz, the enemy was driven back. The Union regiments which had suffered so much were withdrawn. The enemy had by this time concentrated their broken troops for another attack. General McClernand had already prepared for the emergency. Anticipating that an attempt would be made to force a passage through, he ordered a brigade to the rear and extreme right to form behind the regiments then in front.

An hour had elapsed when the enemy returned in a dense mass, renewing the fight. The battery of Captain Schwartz seemed to be the object of their attack. On they came, pell mell, with deafening volleys of fire. The Union batteries, well nigh exhausted of canister, poured a storm of shell into their ranks. Ammunition caissons were sent back in haste to get a fresh supply of canister. The Ninth, Eighteenth, Thirtieth and Forty-first were the next regiments to be brought up. The crest of the hill was contested with variable success for a full hour, when the enemy was finally driven back. The line of battle was so much confused that no connected account of the movements can be detailed. The utmost bravery was displayed on both sides, until the struggle degenerated into a wild fierce skirmish. The rebels finally retired a third time.

The Union men had expended their ammunition. It was during this lull, and before the men could realize the fact that they had driven the enemy before them, that the fourth and last attempt was made to seize the battery. The horses being shot, the enemy succeeded in gaining possession of the battery of Captain Schwartz, and were on the point of turning the guns on the Federal troops, when Captain Willett’s Chicago battery, which had just toiled up fresh from Fort Henry, arrived on the ground and poured in a perfect storm of canister, just in time to save the day. The rebels fell back in disorder, dragging the guns of Schwartz with them down the hill, and gained entrance to the fort before the Federals could overtake them. Some eager regiments followed them to the embankments, a few men climbing over, who were driven back for want of support.

The regiments which suffered most in this morning’s engagement were the Eighteenth and Eleventh Illinois; next them, the Thirty-first and Eighth. The expenditure of ammunition must have been excessive, on the hypothesis that each man had his cartridge-box full on going into action. Forty rounds of the standard cartridge is enough to fight with, and more than enough to carry with other accoutrements of battle.

There were many instances of men who displayed the utmost heroism in this action—some refused to be called off the field, fighting to the last moment; others returned after having their wounds dressed. One of the artillerymen, who received a wound, walked to the hospital, a mile or more, had the ball extracted, and then insisted on going back to his battery. The surgeon refused, when he quaintly said: “Come, come, put on some of your glue and let me go back.”

General McClernand, who had been a conspicuous mark during the whole of this fight, bore himself with firmness, exhibiting great decision and calmness in the most arduous situation. The tumult on the left having subsided, he sent a messenger back to General Grant to know if the left wing of General Smith was secure; if so he was ready to advance. As the day waned, an occasional shot was to be heard from the gunboats, but no satisfactory account could be received of their operations. A lull followed the storm. Both armies were preparing for the grand _coup de main_, by which Fort Donelson was to be taken.

It was resolved to storm the fort. The honor of accomplishing this difficult and perilous exploit on the left wing was given to General Smith. When Colonel Lauman led his brigade in solid columns up the steep sides of the hill, he drove the enemy from his entrenchments, pouring a fearful volley into their disorganized and broken ranks. The national ensign was immediately flung out from the earthworks, and greeted with deafening cheers from ten thousand loyal voices.

The shades of night cast their canopy over the contending hosts, and compelled the Federal commander to delay the completion of his victory till morning. Soon after daylight, the Federal columns advanced in battle array, prepared to storm the works at all points, when their eyes were greeted with innumerable white flags, thrown out by the enemy at every threatened position.

What followed may be told in few words. The enemy seeing that the Unionists had gained one of his strongest positions, and successfully repulsed him in his most daring attempts to raise the siege, took advantage of the darkness, and called a council of war, in which it was determined to surrender. With all possible haste some 7,000 troops were dispatched up the river by night. The rebel Generals Floyd and Pillow made their escape. The fort, with all its contents, fell into the conquerors’ hands. More than 13,000 prisoners, Brigadier-General Buckner, with twenty Colonels and other officers in proportion; sixty-five cannon, forty-eight field and seventeen siege guns, a million and a half dollars in stores, provisions, and equipage, twenty thousand stand of arms—was glorious result, purchased at comparatively small loss. The Federal loss in killed and wounded was 2,200; that of the rebels 1,275.

At the storming of Fort Donelson many acts of personal valor might be recorded. An instance of reckless gallantry, and fortitude under a most painful surgical operation, that of Hamilton, a son of Professor Leiber, is worthy of record. This young man was twice wounded in the battle of Fort Donelson. The first was a flesh wound, of which he made nothing. Presently, however, he was struck by a Minie ball in the same arm; this shattered his elbow, with the bones above and below, and he sank to the ground, fainting with loss of blood. He was picked up towards night, carried to a house, and thence, over a rough road, in an army wagon, to the river bank, a distance of three miles, which necessarily caused the greatest suffering. Arrived at the river bank, he was put on board a boat and conveyed with other wounded to an hospital, where his arm was amputated. When the operation was over, the brave young fellow’s first words were, “How long will it be before I can rejoin my company?” At that time young Leiber was a Lieutenant of the Ninth Illinois regiment. He was appointed aid-de-camp by General Halleck soon after the battle of Donelson as a reward for his great bravery.

THE OCCUPATION OF NASHVILLE.

FEBRUARY 25, 1862.

After the surrender of Fort Donelson, on the 16th of February, it became evident to the Confederate leaders that the cities of Nashville and Memphis, and other important positions must soon fall into the hands of the victorious Federal army. Public meetings were held at both these cities, in which it was recommended to defend them to the last extremity, and if necessary to prevent their occupancy by the Union troops, many of the more violent and reckless of the military determined that they should be burned, and every description of property destroyed. At Nashville, the Governor, Isham G. Harris, pledged himself to “shed his blood, fight like a lion, and die like a martyr,” rather than submit to the enemy; and at the same time efforts were made, but with little success, to organize additional forces for defence.

During the progress of the siege at Fort Donelson, dispatches were sent to Nashville, announcing a series of rebel successes, and on Saturday night information was conveyed that the Federals had again been defeated both on land and water, but they had been reinforced and might renew the attack in the morning. With these hopeful and exulting assurances, the city rested in peace, confident that the light of the morning would open upon a glorious victory for the rebel arms.

Early on the morning of Sunday the first rumors of this heavy calamity to the rebel cause had been conveyed to the leaders in Nashville. At first, suppressed whispers and grave countenances indicated that something important had transpired. But the people generally were confident and hopeful as on the evening before, and anticipated that any hour of the day would give the signal for a grand jubilee and rejoicing. The time for public service in the churches drew near, and the people repaired to their several places of worship. The churches were partly filled and the streets crowded with the passing multitude, when a startling rumor broke the peaceful stillness of the day. The Federals were victorious! Fort Donelson had surrendered! Fifteen thousand Confederate prisoners had laid down their arms to the invaders! Fear, added to imagination, ran riot in the town.

It was said that the Federal troops had already reached Robertson, a place about twenty-five miles from Nashville, connected by railroad, and that the gunboats were at Clarksville, on the river, on their way to the city. Governor Harris, taking advantage of his early information, had hastily convened the members of the Legislature, then in session at Nashville, which had met, and adjourned to convene at Memphis. These circumstances becoming known, gave plausibility to the exciting rumors of the celerity of the Federal movements, and the people were panic stricken.

Before nightfall hundreds of citizens, singly and in families, were making their way South, many of them having no idea why they were thus recklessly abandoning comfortable homes, or where they were going. Toward night it was announced that the military authorities would throw open the public stores to all who would carry the property away.

This excitement continued throughout Sunday night, constantly gaining strength, aided by the destruction of two gunboats which were in process of construction—two fine New Orleans packets, the James Woods and James Johnson, having been taken for that purpose. The army of General Johnston commenced its retreat, encamping by regiments at convenient points outside of the city. On Monday morning, great excitement prevailed; the public stores were distributed to some extent among the people, while the army and hospitals were making heavy requisitions, and pressing all the vehicles and men that could be obtained to carry supplies to their camp. At the same time, considerable quantities of stores were removed to the depots for transportation south. Evening came, and no gunboats—no Federal army from Kentucky. General Johnston left for the South, placing General Floyd in command, assisted by Generals Pillow and Hardee. The apprehensions of the near approach of the enemy having been found groundless, it was determined by General Floyd that the distribution of the stores was premature. An order was sent to close the warehouses, and a force detailed to collect what had been given out. This was done, so far as practicable—but on Tuesday the distribution commenced again, and continued with slight restrictions, under the eyes of the most judicious citizens, until Saturday morning. Tuesday night the iron and railroad bridges across the Cumberland were destroyed, in spite of the most earnest and persistent remonstrances of leading citizens. The iron-bridge cost about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the railroad bridge two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was one of the finest drawbridges in the country.

The scenes which were enacted during the following days, up to Monday morning the 24th, were still more exciting. The untiring energy of the Mayor and city authorities, who throughout this whole affair acted with prudence and zeal, was inadequate to keep the excited people under control.

On Sunday morning, twenty-five Federal pickets breakfasted in Edgefield, opposite the city, and during the morning eight of them seized a little stern-wheeled steamer that had been used as a ferry, and refused to permit it to continue its trips. Mayor Cheatham immediately crossed in a skiff, but found no officer with whom he could negotiate. In the evening, Colonel Emmet, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry arrived, and sent a message to the Mayor, requesting his presence. The interview was satisfactory on both sides, though the formal surrender of the city was deferred until the arrival of General Mitchell, who was expected on Sunday night or Monday morning.

On Monday morning the city became comparatively quiet. In the evening Generals Buell and Mitchell arrived in Edgefield, and understanding that the authorities had appointed a committee, consisting of the Mayor and several of the leading citizens, he sent a message requesting an interview. The hour of the interview was fixed at eleven o’clock, A. M. on Tuesday. In the mean time General Nelson arrived in the city about eight o’clock, A. M., in command of a fleet, consisting of one gunboat, the Cairo, and eight transports. Transports continued to arrive during the day, and at night the number reached eighteen or twenty. A large portion of this army disembarked during the morning, and occupied the public square, encamping in the vicinity at night. At eleven o’clock, the committee of citizens were conveyed by order of General Buell to Edgefield, on the steamer Hillman. They were met at the landing by Generals Nelson and Mitchell, and escorted to General Buell’s headquarters. The interview was an amicable one, General Buell giving assurance that the personal liberty and property of all citizens would be fully protected, and no State institutions of any kind interfered with.

The first business of General Buell, after having thus established a cordial understanding with the officers of the city, was to inaugurate his military authority by the appointment of a Provost-Marshal, to preserve order, and regulate the intercourse of the Union troops with the citizens. Colonel Stanley Matthews, a highly respected and well-known gentleman, conservative in politics, was selected for this responsible position, an appointment which was greeted with satisfaction by the citizens. The post-office was continued in the hands of Colonel J. H. Markland, a native Kentuckian, and a gentleman of high character and social standing.

General Buell immediately restored the mail facilities, which had so long been denied the people by the rebellion, and adopted every measure to ensure and restore confidence among the citizens. Many of them had fled their homes during the panic, the stores and places of business were closed, and the whole community were perfectly paralyzed during the week that had intervened between the fall of Fort Donelson and the occupation of the city. Eight days of terror afforded them a fearful illustration of lawlessness and violence: and when the Federal troops took possession, their sobriety, decorum and uprightness, amazed the people with the contrast. The loss of many of their relatives, the deep hostility that had been engendered in their breasts, and the doubts as to the ultimate restoration of the Federal authority, made the development of loyal sentiments a work of time and patience. The retreat of the national forces from Nashville, and the withdrawal of the protection of the Government, would be the death-warrant of any person committing himself too openly for the Union cause; and many citizens allowed these contending motives to restrain their welcome to the flag under which they had so long enjoyed peace, prosperity and repose.

The government at Washington took an early opportunity to appoint a military governor for the State of Tennessee, in the person of Hon. ANDREW JOHNSON, a man who had long represented its people as Governor and United States Senator.

Some of the ladies of Nashville were peculiarly ardent in their dislike of the Union occupation, and took especial pains to avoid or sneer at the glorious old flag which was directly hoisted in the most prominent parts of the town.

Over the large gate at the Provost-Marshal’s splendid headquarters—Elliott’s female school—a Union flag was hoisted. A very ardent secesh lady, who wished to see Colonel Matthews, was about to pass through the gate, when looking up she beheld the proud flag streaming on the breeze. Starting back horror-struck, she held up her hands and exclaimed to the guard:

“Dear! I can’t go under that dreadful Lincoln flag. Is there no other way for me to enter?”

“Yes, madam,” promptly replied the soldier, and turning to his comrade, he said:

“Here, orderly, bring out that rebel flag and lay it on the ground at the little gate, and let this lady walk over it!”

The lady looked bewildered, and after hesitating a moment, concluded to bow her head to the flag which had so long protected her, and passed under it with submissive grace.

FORT CLINCH AND FERNANDINA, FLA.

On the 28th of February, 1862, Commodore S. F. Dupont, commanding the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron, set sail from Port Royal, S. C., the headquarters of General Sherman, for the purpose of taking military possession of the forts and towns on the coasts of Georgia and Florida. Brigadier-General Wright accompanied him, as commander of the land forces. The squadron consisted of twenty vessels of war, seven transports, and a few schooners and smaller vessels.

The first point of attack was to be Fernandina, Fla., an important seaport near the entrance of St. Mary’s river, the boundary between Georgia and Florida. The main channel is between Cumberland and Amelia islands, with fourteen feet of water on the bar.

Fort Clinch, a regular bastioned work of brick, with heavy casemates, and guns mounted _en barbette_, commanded the entrance. This place had been strongly fortified by the rebels and mounted with guns of the heaviest calibre. Commodore Dupont anticipated a stubborn resistance, but the garrison, on learning the approach of the formidable expedition, deemed their position indefensible, and evacuated the fort, leaving twelve of their heaviest guns behind.

The town of Fernandina was also occupied by the Federal forces without any resistance. Many of the inhabitants had fled, and those remaining were terrified on the approach of the vessels, having been assured by the rebels that the national forces would subject them to unrestrained pillage and abuse. The kind and conciliatory government instituted by General Wright soon restored confidence, and the people returned to their homes and occupations.

THE MERRIMAC AND THE MONITOR.

MARCH 9, 1862.

The most remarkable naval battle which has ever taken place in the history of the world was the encounter between the two iron-clad steam batteries, Merrimac and Monitor, in Hampton Roads, Va.

The Merrimac was one of five war-steamers authorized to be constructed by an act of Congress, passed at the session of 1844–5, and was built at Charlestown, Mass. The spar deck was 281 feet long, and 52 broad, in her original condition. The vessel was completed and launched in 1856. She was soon put in commission, and continued in the service until April, 1861, when she was lying at Norfolk Navy Yard for repairs.

When the Government property at the Navy Yard and in the neighborhood of Norfolk was destroyed or rendered unserviceable, to secure it from seizure by the Confederates, the Merrimac was scuttled.

Not long after the rebels had taken possession of the Navy Yard the Merrimac was raised, and placed in the floating-dock. Here she was remodeled, and covered by a sloping roof of iron plates, four inches thick, which bore her down so heavily, that it became almost impossible to launch her. When launched she drew four feet of water over the calculated draught, and was again placed upon the dry-dock, and underwent material changes in her construction. Her bow and stern were steel-clad, and the bow furnished with a projecting ram for the purpose of piercing an antagonist. The armament consisted of four eleven-inch navy guns, broadside, and two one hundred-pounder rifled guns, at the bow and at the stern.

The Monitor was built by contract, under the act of Congress of July, 1861, appropriating $1,500,000 for iron-clad vessels. Captain Ericsson presented proposals for a battery to be launched within one hundred working days from the date of the contract. The contract was awarded to him in October, and on the one hundred and first working day the Monitor was launched from the Continental Iron Works at Greenpoint, New York.

The Monitor is low, wide, and flat-bottomed, with vertical sides, and pointed ends, requiring but shallow water to float in. The sides of the vessel are formed of plate iron, half an inch thick, outside of which is attached solid white oak twenty-six inches thick: outside this again is rolled iron armor five inches thick. The inclination of the lower hull is such that a ball to strike it in any part must pass through at least twenty-five feet of water, and then strike an inclined iron surface at an angle of about ten degrees. In the event of an enemy boarding the battery they can do no harm, as the only entrance is at the top of the turret or citadel, which cannot easily be scaled, and even then only one man at a time can descend into the hull.

BIRDS-EYE VIEW OF HAMPTON ROADS, VA., MARCH 8, 1862.

1. Hampton Roads.—2. Fortress Monroe.—3. Rip Raps.—4. Newport News
Point.—5. James River.—6. Sewall’s Point.—7. Pigs Point.—8. Craney
Island.—9. Elizabeth River.—10. Norfolk.—11. Portsmouth.—12.
Gosport.—13. Suffolk.—14. Nansemond River.—15. Merrimac.—16.
Monitor.—17. Cumberland.—18. Congress.—19. Minnesota.—20.
Yorktown.—21. Jamestown.—22. St. Lawrence.—23. Roanoke.
]

The principal novelty of this vessel is the cylindrical revolving turret, rising from its exact centre, in which the guns are placed. This is formed of rolled one-inch iron plates bolted together to the thickness of eight inches; its internal diameter is twenty feet, and it is nine feet high. It rests at its lower edge on a smooth, flat ring of composition metal, but when in action the principal portion of its weight is sustained by a central shaft, about which it revolves; a massive wedge being driven below the steps of the shaft on such occasion to raise it, and thus cause it to bear up the turret. A large spur wheel upon the shaft is connected by a train of gearing with a small steam-engine, which supplies the power for turning the turret.

Two eleven-inch guns are placed within the turret, in position precisely parallel with each other, on smooth ways, or slides; a clamp being arranged upon the sides of the ways for adjusting the friction and taking up the recoil in such distance as may be desired.

The turret is pierced in different places with four holes for the insertion of telescopes, and just outside of the holes reflectors are fixed to bend the rays of light which come in a direction parallel with the guns through the axis of the telescope, which is crossed by a vertical thread of spider’s web through the line of collimation. The sailing-master takes his position in the turret, with his eye to the telescope, and his hand upon the wheel that governs the motion of the small engine, and turns the turret so as to keep the guns always directed with absolute precision to the object against which the fire is directed. A scale is also arranged for adjusting the elevation of the guns with similar engineering precision.

Upon the sides of the turret that have the port-holes through which the guns are discharged, the massiveness is increased by an additional plating three inches in thickness; making the sides of the turret presented to the enemy eleven inches.

In preparing for action, the awning over the turret is removed, and the square smoke stacks as well as the shorter pipes, through which air is drawn into the vessel, are taken down. A small, square tower at the bow is the wheelhouse, in which the steersman stands. It is made of bars or beams of iron nine by twelve inches, interlocked at the corners.

After a preliminary trial trip, the Monitor sailed from the Brooklyn Navy Yard for Fortress Monroe, on the 6th of March, and at five o’clock on the afternoon of that day, discharged her pilot off Sandy Hook. Her officers at this time were as follows:

Lieutenant-commanding John S. Worden; Lieutenant and Executive Officer, S. D. Green; Acting Masters, I. N. Stoddard, J. W. Webber; Acting Assistant-Paymaster, Wm. E. Keeler; Acting Assistant-Surgeon, D. C. Logue; Government Inspector, Alban C. Stimers; First Assistant-Engineer, Isaac Newton; Second Assistant-Engineer, Albert S. Campbell; Third Assistant-Engineers, R. W. Sands, M. T. Sunstron; Acting Masters’-Mate, George Frederickson.

The voyage to Fortress Monroe was safely terminated by the arrival of the vessel with her consort about eight o’clock on the evening of the eighth. Important events had transpired in Hampton Roads on that day. The Merrimac had steamed down towards the sloop-of-war Cumberland, blockading James river, and demanded a surrender. This was refused, when the monster turned ponderously, and bringing her bow to bear on the Cumberland, dashed into her side, rending the timbers as she went. She then drew her iron prow from the shattered vessel, scattering a storm of splintered wood on the water, and receding to a safe distance, poured a broadside in from her guns. The crippled Cumberland, still vibrating in all her timbers, returned the broadside. This was answered and returned without intermission for fifteen minutes. During this time shot and shell boomed over the water, crashed into the doomed vessel, and fell like mighty hail on the iron coat of the Merrimac. But while every shot told on the quivering woodwork of the Cumberland, the Merrimac threw off the iron missiles as a rock beats back the tempest, sending in her volleys more triumphantly each moment. The brave old man-of-war stood up to the slaughter much as a blinded horse, forced among the wild bulls of a Spanish arena falls, gored to the heart, but fighting desperately. Half full of water, which still came pouring in through her wounded side, recoiling like a living thing from each outburst of shot and shell, she at last settled slowly to the waters’ edge, and sunk, pouring out a defiant broadside as she went down, with the stars and stripes floating at her mast-head.

The Merrimac then challenged the Congress, a Federal sailing frigate, of 1,867 tons, but was also refused a surrender. This refusal was replied to by the guns of the rebel vessel, and after a short contest, when it became hopeless to continue resistance, the Congress surrendered, and was fired and abandoned. The evening was clear, the air still, the water without a ripple, and the scene was magnificent, as the noble vessel became wrapped in its fiery shroud. When entirely enveloped in flame, the fire reached the magazine, and an explosion took place which scattered the burning wreck in one vast upheaving of fragments and cinders, kindling up the sky with its glare, and throwing portions of the wreck the distance of a mile. The Merrimac having succeeded in sinking the Cumberland and compelling the Congress to surrender, withdrew for the night, evidently confident that in the morning she would sweep away the rest of the fleet.

As the day closed, sadness and gloom filled the hearts of the Federal officers in the fleet and Fortress. They felt assured that the powerful enemy that had just made such murderous work had only retired for the night to recruit, and then return to complete the destruction she had commenced, having the sailing vessels at her mercy. While despondency settled on many brows, and conjectures were rife as to where the Merrimac would direct her attention the next day, a gleam of hope arose. At eight o’clock in the evening a bright, movable light was discovered seaward, coming from the direction of Cape Charles beacon. It being known that the Ericsson Battery had left New York two days previous, surmises were rife that this light might proceed from her deck. The best night telescopes were brought into requisition, and in less than half an hour after it first hove in sight, the fact was circulated that the Ericsson Battery was coming up the Roads. The news spread like wildfire, and the ramparts in the fort were soon lined with troops. At nine o’clock the Monitor anchored off Fortress Monroe.

The next day, (Sunday, the 9th,) dawned fair and calm. The sun rose with almost cloudless splendor, a soft haze alone hung upon the water, so silvery and transparent that it hardly intercepted the view.