Chapter XVIII: Part 18

Next to Nelson came Crittenden. He, too, swept forward over his ground to the front some distance before finding the foe. Between eight and nine o’clock, however, while keeping Smith’s brigade on his left even with Nelson’s flank, and joining Boyle’s brigade to McCook on the right, in the grand advance, he came upon the enemy with a battery in position, and, well supported, Smith dashed his brigade forward. There was sharp, close work with musketry, and the rebels fled. He took three pieces—a twelve-pound howitzer and two brass six-pounders. But they cost the gallant Thirteenth Ohio dear. Major Ben. Piatt Runkle fell, mortally wounded.

For half an hour, perhaps, the storm raged around these captured guns. Then came the recoiling rebel wave that had hurled Nelson back. Crittenden, too, caught its full force. The rebels swept up to the batteries—around them, and down after the retreating Union column. But the two brigades, like those of Nelson’s to their left, took a fresh position, faced the foe, and held their ground. Mendenhall’s and Bartlett’s batteries now began shelling the infantry that alone opposed them. Before abandoning the guns so briefly held, they had spiked them with mud, and this novel expedient was perfectly successful. From that time till after one o’clock, while the fight raged back and forth over the same ground, the rebels did not succeed in firing a shot from their mud-spiked artillery.

At last the Union brigades began to gain the advantage. Crittenden drove the enemy steadily forward. Captain Mendenhall, with First-Lieutenant Parsons, a Western Reserve West Pointer, with Bartlett, poured in their shell. A rush for the contested battery, and it was taken again. The rebels retreated towards the left. Smith and Boyle holding the infantry well in hand, Mendenhall again got their range and poured in shell on the new position. The fortune of the day was against them, as against their comrades in Nelson’s front, and they were soon in full retreat.

Just then Brigadier-General Thomas J. Woods’ advance brigade from his approaching division came up. It was too late for the fight, but it relieved Crittenden’s weary fellows, and pushed on after the rebels until they were found to have left the most advanced Union camps.

M’COOK’S ADVANCE.

Thus the left was saved. Meanwhile McCook, with his magnificent regiments, was doing equally well toward the centre. His division was handled in a way to save great effusion of blood, while equally important results were attained. The reserves were kept as much as possible from under fire, while the troops in front were engaged. Thus the lists of killed and wounded will show that while as heavy fighting was done here as any where on the right or centre, the casualties were remarkably few.

An Illinois battery, serving in the division, was in imminent danger. The Sixth Indiana was ordered to its relief. A rapid rush, close musketry firing—no need of bayonets here—the battery was safe. The enemy were to the front and right. Advancing and firing the Sixth pushed on. The rebel colors dropped. Another volley; yet once more the fated colors fell. Was there fatality in this? The rebels seemed to think so, for they wheeled and disappeared.

Rousseau’s brigade was drawn off in splendid style. The rebel General saw the brigade filing back, and pushed his forces onward again. Kirk’s brigade advanced to meet him, coming out of the woods into an open field. It was met by a tremendous fire, which threw a battalion of regulars in its front into some confusion. They retired to reform, and meanwhile down dropped the brigade on the ground. As the front was cleared the men sprang up and charged across the open field, straight to the woods, under cover, driving the enemy back with their impetuous advance. He rallied promptly. Fierce musketry firing swept the woods. They advanced thirty rods, perhaps, when the Twenty-ninth Indiana got into a marsh and fell partially to the rear. Heavier came the leaden hail. The Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth both fell back fifteen or twenty rods; they rallied and advanced again. They were repulsed, started impetuously forward, and this time came in on the vulnerable points. Colonel Waggoner’s Fifteenth Indiana came up to the support and the enemy disappeared. Fresh troops took their places, and for them the fight ended.

Beginning at the left the waves of success swept forward from point to point over the lost fields of Sunday. Pæans of victory, and the wild cheers of successful soldiers sounded the requiem of the fallen rebels, who had atoned for their treason by the brave man’s death. Nelson, Crittenden, McCook, Hurlbut, McClernand, led their divisions bravely through the fray. The contest lasted longer on the right, and was even more fiercely contested.

LEW. WALLACE’S MOVEMENTS.

When Major-General Lew. Wallace opened the battle at seven o’clock by shelling with enfilading fires a rebel battery, a few shots demonstrated to the rebels that their position was untenable. The instant Sherman came in to protect his left, Wallace advanced his infantry. The rebel battery at once limbered up and got out of the way. The advance had withdrawn the division from Sherman, making a left half wheel, to get back into the neighborhood of the Federal line; they advanced some two hundred yards, which brought them to a little elevation, with a broad open stretch to the front. As the division halted on the crest of the swell, through the edge of the timber, skirting the fields, the head of a rebel column appeared, marching past in splendid style on the double-quick. Banner after banner flashed out through the foliage; the “Stars and Bars” forming a long line, stretching parallel with Wallace’s line of battle. Regiment after regiment swept forward, the line lengthened, and doubled and trebled; the head of the column was out of sight and still they came. Twenty regiments were counted passing through the woods. Their design was plain. The rebels had abandoned the idea of forcing their way through the Union left, and the manifest attempt was to turn the right.

Thompson’s and Thurber’s batteries were now ordered up, and the whole column was shelled as it passed. The rebels threw their artillery into position rapidly, and a brisk cannonading began. After a time, while the fight still rested with the artillery, the rebels opened a new and destructive battery to the right, which the Union men soon ascertained was “Watson’s Louisiana battery,” from the marks on the ammunition boxes the enemy were forced from time to time to leave behind.

Batteries, with a brigade of supporting infantry, were now moved forward over open fields, under heavy fire, to contend against this new assailant. The batteries opened, the sharpshooters were thrown out to the front to pick off the rebel artillerists, and the brigade was ordered down on its face to protect it from the flying shell and grape. For an hour and a half the contest lasted, while the body of the division was still delayed, waiting for Sherman.

SHERMAN’S DIVISION.

Sherman had received orders from Grant to advance and recapture his camps. His division was composed of odds and ends, as it came out of the conflict on Sunday evening.

His command was of a mixed character. Buckland’s brigade was the only one that retained its organization. Colonel Hildebrand was personally there, but his brigade was not. Colonel McDowell had been severely injured by a fall of his horse, had gone to the river, and the regiments of his brigade were not in line. The Thirteenth Missouri, Colonel Crafts J. Wright, had reported itself on the field, and fought well, retaining its regimental organization, and it formed a part of Sherman’s line during Sunday night and all Monday. Other fragments of regiments and companies had also fallen into his division, and acted with it during the remainder of the battle.

This was not a very promising host with which to “advance and recapture his camps.” Sherman, full of ardor, moved forward and reoccupied the ground on the extreme right of General McClernand’s camp, where he attracted the fire of a battery located near Colonel McDowell’s headquarters. Here he remained, patiently awaiting the sound of General Buell’s advance upon the main Corinth road. It was this independent action of Sherman which caused Wallace to halt—he evidently not understanding that General’s design.

By ten o’clock Sherman’s right, under Colonel Marsh, came up. He started to move across the field, but the storm of musketry and grape was too much for him, and he fell back in good order. Again he started on the double-quick and gained the woods. The Louisiana battery was turned; Marsh’s position left it subject to fire in flank and in front, and it then fled. The other rebel batteries at once followed, and Wallace’s division, in an instant, now that a master move had swept the board, pushed forward. Before them were broad fallow fields, then a woody little ravine, succeeded by cornfields and woods.

The left brigade was sent forward. It crossed the fallow fields, under fire, gained the ravine, and was rushing across the cornfields, when the same Louisiana steel rifled guns opened on them. Dashing forward they reached a little ground swell, behind which they dropped like dead men, while skirmishers were sent forward to silence the troublesome battery. The skirmishers crept forward till they gained a little knoll, not more than seventy-five yards from the battery. Of course the guns opened on them. They replied to some purpose. In a few minutes the battery was driven off, the artillerists killed, the horses shot down, and badly crippled every way. But the affair cost the Union cause a brave man—Lieutenant-Colonel Garber, who could not control his enthusiasm at the conduct of the skirmishers, and in his excitement incautiously exposed himself. All this time rebel regiments were pouring on to attack the audacious brigade that was supporting the skirmishers, but fresh regiments from Wallace’s division came up in time to defeat their purpose.

The battery was silenced. “Forward” was the division order. Rushing across the cornfields under a heavy fire, they now met the rebels face to face in the woods. The contest was quick and decisive. Close, sharp, continuous musketry drove the rebels back.

Here unfortunately Sherman’s right gave way. Wallace’s flank was exposed. He instantly formed Colonel Wood’s Seventy-sixth Ohio in a new line of battle, in right angles with the real one, with orders to protect the flank. The Eleventh Indiana was likewise contesting a sharp engagement with the enemy, who made a desperate attempt to flank it, and for a time the contest waxed furious. But Sherman soon filled the place of his broken regiments. Wallace’s division came forward, and again the enemy gave way.

By two o’clock the division was in the woods again, and for three-quarters of a mile it advanced under a murderous storm of shot. Then another contest, and another with the batteries, always met with skirmishers and sharpshooting—then by four o’clock, two hours later than on the right, a general rebel retreat—a sharp pursuit—from which the triumphant Union soldiers were recalled to encamp on the old ground of Sherman’s division, in the very tents from which those regiments were driven that hapless Sunday morning.

With great thanksgiving and shouts of triumph the Union army took possession of the camps. They had repulsed the enemy in one of the most hardly contested battles of the war, under many disadvantages, and with a heroism that fills a glorious page in the history of nations. The enemy was near, yet retreating—his columns broken and altogether defeated. His cavalry still hovered within half a mile of the camps, but it was allowed to depart, and the battle of Pittsburg Landing, written by more than a hundred thousand bayonets, was at an end.

AFTER THE BATTLE.

The sight of that battle field was horrible. The first approaches, occupying the further range of the enemy’s guns, bore fearful witness of the wild devastation made by the ball and shell which had over-shot the mark. Large trees were entirely splintered off within ten feet of the ground; heavy branches lay in every direction, and pieces of exploded missiles were scattered over the forest sward. The carcasses of horses and the wrecks of wagons strewed all the woods and marked every step of the way.

Half a mile further on, and the most terrible results of the struggle were brought to view. Lifeless bodies lay thickly in the woods; the dead and dying lay close together in the fields, some in heaps on their backs, some with clenched hands half raised in air—others with their guns held in a fixed grip, as if in the act of loading when the fatal shaft struck them dead. Others still had crawled away from further danger, and, sheltering themselves behind old logs, had sunk into an eternal sleep. Here were the bodies of men who had fallen the day before, mingled with those from whose wounds the blood was yet warmly trickling.

Around the open space known as “The battalion drill ground,” the scene was still more appalling. This spot had been desperately contested on both sides; but the dead on the rebel side were four to one compared to the Union losses. It was horrible to see in what wild attitudes they had fallen. Here a poor creature appeared in a sitting posture, propped up by logs, on which the green moss had been drenched with blood, and with his hands rigidly locked over his knees, sat still as marble, with his ashen face drooping on his breast. One poor wretch had crept away to the woods, and ensconcing himself between two logs, spread his blanket above him as a shield from the rain of the previous night. He was a wounded rebel, and asked pitifully of those who searched among the dead if nothing could be done for him.

In the track of the larger guns terrible havoc had been made, and scenes of revolting mutilation presented themselves. The field of battle extended over a distance of five miles in length, and three-quarters of a mile in width. This space was fought over twice in regular battle array, and many times in the charges and retreats of the different divisions of the two armies. Every tree and sapling in that whole space was pierced through and through with cannon-shot and musketballs, and it is reported that there was scarcely a rod of ground on the five miles which did not have a dead or wounded man upon it.

On Sunday, especially, several portions of the ground were fought over three and four times, and the two lines swayed backward and forward like advancing and retreating waves. In repeated instances, rebel and Union soldiers, protected by the trees, were within thirty feet of each other. Many of the camps, as they were lost and retaken, received showers of balls. At the close of the fight, General McClernand’s tent contained twenty-seven bullet-holes, and his Adjutant’s thirty-two. In the Adjutant’s tent, when the Union forces recaptured it, the body of a rebel was found in a sitting position. He had evidently stopped for a moment’s rest, when a ball struck and killed him. A tree, not more than eighteen inches in diameter, which was in front of General Lew. Wallace’s division, bore the marks of more than ninety balls within ten feet of the ground.

THE ARTILLERY AND REGIMENTS ENGAGED.

A record of the dead, wounded and missing in that fearful battle, bears sure evidence of the almost superhuman bravery with which it was contested.

The Illinois men, already famous at Donelson, fought like tigers to sustain their well-earned reputation. Missouri, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, and some of the Iowa regiments, won imperishable laurels. The First and Second Kentucky were gloriously brave in the fight. They, as well as the Sixth, were under fire more than five hours, yet when the enemy turned their faces toward Mississippi, they were ready and eager to follow. The Ohio Fifty-fourth, Zouave regiment, were at their post in the thickest of the fight. Also the Fifty-seventh, who remembered well that Ohio expected her buckeye sons to do their duty.

Taylor’s and Waterhouse’s batteries were first in the fight. Two regiments that should have supported the last broke and ran. Waterhouse was wounded in the thigh by a minie ball. Taylor’s battery continued to fight, supported splendidly by the Twenty-third Illinois, until he and his support were outflanked on both sides.

Waterhouse, with his three guns, took up a second position, supported by the second brigade of McClernand’s division, Colonel Marsh commanding. During the forenoon they were compelled to retire through their own encampment, with heavy loss, into the woods. There a second line of battle was formed, when McClernand ordered an advance. A hundred rods brought the solid columns within sight of the rebels, and then followed one of the most fiercely contested and sanguinary engagements of that desperate field. It resulted in the repulse of the rebels, who were driven back through the Union encampments. Then the enemy was reinforced, and Colonel Marsh, finding his ammunition nearly expended, was compelled to retreat before the overwhelming forces of the enemy.

On Monday a fine Michigan battery, captured by the enemy the day before, was retaken by the Sixteenth Wisconsin, at the point of the bayonet. The fight, after taking this battery, was conducted by General Beauregard in person. In his efforts to recover it he was wounded in the arm. He was successful in taking it, but it was again wrested from him. This battery was retaken and recaptured no less than six times.

Company A of the Chicago Light Artillery, so severely handled on the first day, was only able to man three guns on Monday; but with these, after a desperate contest, they succeeded in silencing and capturing a rebel battery of six guns. They were, however, compelled to abandon it from want of horses.

The report of General Lew. Wallace especially commended the Nebraska First, the Twentieth, Fifty-eighth, Seventy-sixth and Seventy-eighth Ohio, and the Twenty-third Indiana. The Indiana Twenty-fifth literally covered itself with glory. The Indiana Sixth, Ninth, Eleventh, Thirty-first, Thirty-second, Twenty-fourth, Forty-third and Fifty-seventh all performed most honorable parts in the terrible drama.

Of the United States regulars, there was a fine representation. They were used at those points where the utmost steadiness was demanded, and fought with consummate skill and determination.

The losses of the Illinois regiments in McClernand’s division were very heavy, in officers and men. On Sunday, company A, of the Forty-ninth Illinois, lost from one volley twenty-nine men, including three officers; and on Monday morning the company appeared on the ground commanded by a second sergeant. General McClernand’s third brigade, which was led by Colonel Raith until he was mortally wounded, changed commanders three times during the battle. On Monday morning, one of General Hurlbut’s regiments (the Third Iowa) was commanded by a first lieutenant.

General Grant is an illustration of the fortune through which some men, in the thickest showers of bullets, always escape. He has participated in skirmishes and fourteen pitched battles, and is universally pronounced, by those who have seen him on the field, daring even to rashness; but he has never received a scratch. At four o’clock on Sunday evening, he was sitting upon his horse, just in the rear of the Union line of batteries, when Carson, the scout, who had reported to him a moment before, had fallen back, and was holding his horse by the bridle, about seven feet behind him. A six-pound shot, which flew very near General Grant, carried away Carson’s head, passed just behind Lieutenant Graves, volunteer aid to General Wilson, tearing away the cantle of his saddle and cutting his clothing, but leaving him uninjured. It then took off the legs of a soldier in one of General Nelson’s regiments, which was just ascending the bluff.

About the same hour, further up to the right, General Sherman, who had been standing for a moment, while Major Hammond, his chief of staff, was holding his bridle, remounted. By the prancing of his horse, General Sherman’s reins were thrown over his neck, and he was leaning forward in the saddle, with his head lowered, while Major Hammond was bringing them back over his head, when a rifle ball struck the line in Major Hammond’s hand, severing it within two inches of his fingers, and passed through the top and back of General Sherman’s hat. Had he been sitting upright it would have struck his head. At another time a ball struck General Sherman on the shoulder, but his metallic shoulder-strap warded it off. With a third ball he was less fortunate, for it passed through his hand. General Sherman had three horses shot under him, and ranks high among the heroes of that nobly won battle.

General Hurlbut had a six-pound shot pass between his horse’s head and his arm; a bullet hurtled through the animal’s mane, and one of his horses was killed under him.

The statement has gone forth that General Prentiss was made prisoner at the first early onslaught of the enemy, when his division was driven in upon Sherman’s lines. But this is an error. Prentiss’ men fought well even in retiring. They retired to reform, and pursued the conflict up to late in the afternoon, under Prentiss’ personal lead. They maintained a stand on McClernand’s left and Hurlbut’s right. In the thick underbrush where they made their last stand, almost every shrub and bush was struck by bullets; no spot on the entire field evidenced more desperate fighting. The last time General Prentiss met General Hurlbut, he asked him: “Can you hold your line?” General Hurlbut replied, “I think I can.” Not long after he sent a messenger to General Prentiss, to inform him that he was forced back, but the man was probably killed, as he never returned or delivered the message. About the same time, McClernand was forced back on his right, and Prentiss, without knowing that his supports on each side were gone, held his line. The enemy, both on his right and left, was half a mile in his rear before he discovered it, and his capture was inevitable.

Of General Buell’s conduct in battle, one of his men wrote, “I wish you could have seen the gallantry, the bravery, the dauntless daring, the coolness of General Buell. He seemed to be omnipresent. If ever man was qualified to command an army, it is he. He is a great, a _very_ great General, and has proved himself so; not only in organizing and disciplining an army, but in handling it. He had his horse shot under him.”

LOSSES.

The official reports of losses are given in the following tabular statement:

GRANT’S ARMY.

DIVISIONS. KILLED. WOUNDED. MISSING. TOTAL.
1—General McClernand, 251 1,351 236 1,848
2—General W. H. L. Wallace, 228 1,033 1,163 2,424
3—General Lew. Wallace, 43 257 5 305
4—General Hurlbut, 313 1,449 223 1,985
5—General Sherman, 318 1,275 441 2,034
6—General Prentiss, 196 562 1,802 2,760
————— ————— ————— —————
Total, 1,349 5,927 3,870 11,356

BUELL’S ARMY.

2—General McCook, 95 793 8 896
4—General Nelson, 90 591 58 739
5—General Crittenden, 80 410 27 517
————— ————— ————— —————
Total, 265 1,794 93 2,152
————— ————— ————— —————
Grand Total, 1,614 7,721 3,963 13,508

The official report of General Beauregard states the rebel loss to be 1,728 killed, 8,012 wounded, and 959 missing; which is far below the estimated losses of the enemy given by the Federal officers, who buried the dead on the field.

Bravely was that battle contested on both sides. We have described the way in which the Federal Generals fought and won a victory. But the South was gallantly represented—so gallantly, that a victory over such men was worth a double conquest over a meaner foe.

Beauregard seemed omnipresent along his lines throughout that memorable day, striving by expostulation, entreaties, command, exposure of his own person, to stem the tide of defeat; but it was in vain. The steady flank advances of the Federal wings—the solidity of their centre, rendered it necessary to “retreat,” if he would not be cut off entirely. His baffled and somewhat dispirited brigades fell back slowly upon the Corinth road, which, in all the fortunes of the two days’ fight, had been carefully guarded from any approach of the Unionists. The retreat was neither a panic nor a rout. Some regiments threw away their arms, blankets, etc., from exhaustion; great numbers of killed and wounded crowded the army wagons, and much camp equipage was necessarily left behind.

The pursuit was kept up with but little energy. The nature of the woods rendered cavalry movements extremely difficult, and though three thousand splendidly mounted fellows had waited two days for an order to ride into the fray, it came too late for much service. The infantry pushed onward only a mile or two, for being unacquainted with the topography of the country, General Buell considered it dangerous to pursue his advantages any farther.

In giving a record of this contest, one thing is assured—the Union victory was won by the heroic fortitude of men, many of whom never before had been under fire; and the field is written all over with the records of soldiers whose unfaltering heroism gave the name of Pittsburg Landing to the hardest fought and noblest won battle of the American continent.

GENERAL SHERMAN’S RECONNOISSANCE TOWARD CORINTH.

APRIL 8, 1862.

The fatigue and suffering experienced by the victorious army at Pittsburg were too severe for an immediate pursuit of Beauregard’s forces on their retreat from the battle field on the 7th of April. On the morning of the 8th, however, General W. T. Sherman was ordered by General Grant to follow up the enemy, with a small force. With two brigades of infantry, and Colonel Dickey’s Illinois cavalry, he advanced on the Corinth road, to the forks, several miles beyond the battle field. The abandoned camps of the enemy lined the road, in all of which were found more or less of their wounded with hospital flags thrown out for their protection. At that point, reconnoitering parties were sent out on both roads, which reported the enemy’s cavalry in force in either direction. A Federal brigade under General Wood, which had been stationed in that vicinity, was ordered to advance on the left hand road, while General Sherman led the third brigade of his division up the right. About half a mile from the forks was a clear field, through which the highway passed, and immediately beyond it a space of two hundred yards of fallen timber; beyond that an extensive camp of the enemy’s cavalry could be seen. After a reconnoissance, the two advanced companies of the Ohio Seventy-seventh, Colonel Hildebrand, were ordered to deploy as skirmishers, and the regiment itself to move forward into line, with intervals of one hundred yards. In this order they advanced cautiously until the skirmishers were engaged.

Taking it for granted that this disposition would clear the camp, Gen. Sherman held Colonel Dickey’s Fourth Illinois cavalry ready to charge. The enemy’s cavalry came down boldly, breaking through the line of skirmishers, when the regiment of infantry wavered, threw away its guns and fled. The ground was admirably adapted to a defence of infantry against cavalry, it being miry and covered with fallen timber. As the regiment of infantry broke, Colonel Dickey’s cavalry began to charge with their carbines, and fell into disorder. General Sherman instantly sent orders to the rear for the brigade to form in line of battle, which was promptly executed. The broken infantry and cavalry rallied on this line, and as the enemy’s cavalry came up to it, the Union cavalry in turn charged and drove them from the field. General Sherman then advanced the entire brigade upon the same ground, and sent Colonel Dickey’s cavalry a mile further on the road. On the ground which had been occupied by the Seventy-seventh Ohio, were fifteen dead and about twenty-five wounded. Two hundred and eighty Confederate wounded and fifty of the Federals were found in the camp from which the enemy were driven.

General Halleck attributed the victory at Pittsburg greatly to the bravery and skill of General Sherman, and recommended that he should be promoted to a Major-Generalship, which rank was conferred upon him by the President.

OCCUPATION OF HUNTSVILLE, ALA.

APRIL 10, 1862.

On the same day that General Buell left Nashville for Pittsburg, he dispatched General Mitchell’s division on a hazardous expedition through Tennessee, to Huntsville, Ala.

Leaving Murfreesborough, Tenn., on the 5th of April, they marched to Shelbyville, twenty-six miles, in twelve hours, amid a cold, drizzling rain. They experienced a warm welcome from the inhabitants of that beautiful city. Here they were obliged to remain two days, awaiting the arrival of their supply train; and on the 8th, after a march of twenty-seven miles, they reached Fayetteville, Lincoln Co., a town where the secession sentiment was almost universal. Fifteen miles beyond they crossed the State line and entered Alabama, continuing their course due south. A Northern journal says:

“It stirs the blood with enthusiasm to read the exploits of General Mitchell, in Alabama—so full are they of dash, enterprise and daring. When the General was on his way to Bridgeport, he met a ‘native,’ whom he asked to show him a point where a certain stream could be forded. The Alabamian declined to furnish the information. ‘Bind him and march him to the head of the column,’ said the General. Then every man of three thousand in the ranks was ordered to take a rail from the adjacent fences, and these were thrown into the river, extemporizing a bridge on which the troops crossed. At another place, they came upon a stream three hundred feet wide, and twenty feet deep. ‘Never mind,’ said the General, ‘I have a pontoon bridge;’ and he ordered his men to roll down the bales from a load of abandoned cotton near by. Some of the officers laughed at the idea of making a bridge of such materials, but he told them he had calculated the buoyancy of cotton, and found it to be four hundred and eighty-six pounds to a bale. The bridge was made, and the calculation proved correct.

“On reaching a bridge near Sunrise, it was found to be on fire, with a piece of rebel artillery stationed to command it. General Mitchell entered the bridge and asked who would volunteer to save it. A sergeant of the Thirty-third Ohio sprang after him. ‘You are my man!’ said the General. In a moment the bridge was thronged with volunteers, and they saved it. At another place the General himself was found in the mud with his coat off, working at a bridge on which his command crossed a swamp.”

As the army advanced, an eager curiosity became manifest to know the point of destination. On the way, the General met a man travelling on foot. He asked him how far it was to Huntsville.

“Eleven miles.”

“Do they know we are coming?”

“No; they have not the least idea of it.”

Huntsville, then, was the desired haven. Ten miles from the place the General called a halt, to wait for the artillery and infantry to come up. No tents were pitched, but for miles away the impatient invaders could be seen around their camp-fires. The General flung himself down by an old log, overrun with moss, and on this novel bed snatched two hours’ rest. Just as the moon was going down, the bugle call was sounded. The soldiers sprang to their feet, and in a few minutes they were ready to move.

The Simonson battery led the way, supported by Kennett’s and Colonel Turchin’s brigade. The army passed a magnificent plantation, with many negroes, owned by the rebel ex-Secretary Walker. Four miles from Huntsville, the shrill whistle of a locomotive was heard. In a few moments the train hove in sight, and was stopped by the outbreak of Simonson’s brass guns. The train was captured, together with one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners.

On to the town was the cry. Daylight was dawning, and the citizens quietly sleeping as the foe entered the silent streets. The clattering noise of the cavalry aroused them from their slumbers, and they flocked to the doors and windows, exclaiming, with blanched cheeks and sinking hearts, “They have come—the Yankees have come!” Never in the history of any military movement was a surprise so complete. Men rushed into the street half dressed, women fainted, children screamed, the negroes laughed, and for a short time a scene of perfect terror reigned. This state of affairs soon subsided, when these startled people realized that the Union soldiers were disposed to treat them kindly.

Colonel Gazley, of the Thirty-seventh Indiana, was appointed Provost-Marshal, and his regiment occupied the city as Provost-Guard.

At the extensive depot was found seventeen first-class locomotives, and a great number of passenger and freight cars. At the foundry, two or three cannon with several small arms. The General soon made good use of the engines. Ere the close of the night, one hundred miles of the Memphis and Charleston railroad was in his possession, stretching in one direction as far as Stevenson, in the other as far as Decatur, capturing at the latter place the entire camp equipage of a regiment, which left very hastily on the approach of the Union troops.

Making Huntsville his headquarters, where he remained for six weeks, General Mitchell rendered essential service by intercepting the enemy’s communications, and capturing or destroying his supplies. He evinced marked ability, and met with uniform success in fitting out many smaller expeditions through that region of country. He extemporized a gunboat on the Tennessee, which aided him materially when visiting the eastern side of the river.

CAPTURE OF FORT PULASKI, GA.

APRIL 11, 1862.

Fort Pulaski, the key to the city of Savannah, stands on Cockspur Island, at the mouth of the Savannah river, about fourteen miles below the city. It was built by the United States Government at a cost of nearly one million of dollars. It is of a pentagonal form, and covers several acres of ground. The walls are forty feet high, presenting two faces towards the sea, the ranges of fire radiating at opposite angles. It was a position of immense strength, being constructed for a full armament, on the lower tier, of sixty-five 32-pounders, and the upper tier for fifty-three 24-pounders, four 18-pound flanking howitzers, one 13-inch mortar, twelve 8-inch columbiads, and seven 10-inch mortars—altogether, one hundred and fifty guns. The interior of the fort was well supplied with large furnaces for heating shot, quarters, barracks, ammunition, etc.

Tybee Island, and the lighthouse, had been previously evacuated by the rebels. The investment of Fort Pulaski was a work of great magnitude, and long and careful preparations for its reduction were necessary. Batteries were erected at several points, after severe labor on the part of the Federal forces, and at the end of the month of March the final arrangements were drawing to completion.

Cockspur Island, on which Fort Pulaski stands, is low and marshy, and the nearest solid land is Tybee Island, lying to the seaward, and within three-quarters of a mile distant. Tybee Island stretches out from a point known as Goat Point, two or three miles to the sea—the nearest point to the fort being that just named. General Q. A. Gillmore took command at Tybee Island on February 20th, which had been previously evacuated by the rebels, and here were built the heaviest breaching batteries; but others were erected at intervals along the shore for a distance of nearly two miles. The subjoined table gives their strength and armament:

BATTERY. NO. OF SIZE. KIND. WEIGHT. RANGE. COMMANDER.
GUNS. LBS.

Stanton 3 13 inch. Mortar. 17,120 3,476 Captain Skinner.

Grant 3 13 „ „ 17,120 3,256 „ Palmer.

Lyon 4 10 „ Columb’d 15,059 3,256 „ Pelouze.

Lincoln 3 8 „ „ 9,240 3,045 „ Pelouze.

Burnside 1 13 „ Mortar. 17,120 2,760 Sergeant Wilson.

Sherman 3 13 „ „ 17,120 2,677 Captain Francis.

Halleck 2 13 „ „ 17,120 2,407 „ Sanford.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Scott 2 10 „ Columb’d 15,059 1,777 „ Mason. „ 1 8 „ „ 9,240 „ „ ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Sigel 5 30 lbs. Part’s „ Seldenkirk. s.c’r „ 1 24 „ James „ „ ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── McClellan 2 42 „ „ „ Rogers. „ 3 32 „ „ „ „ ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Totten 4 10 inch. Mortar. 1,852 1,643 „ Rodman.

These works were erected wholly at night, as they were all within range of Fort Pulaski. Their faces were bomb-proof, while in the rear of those most exposed lay a long wide swamp, into which it was supposed that a great portion of the shot and shells from Fort Pulaski would fall. The supposition proved correct. The magazines were bomb-proof, and trenches connected the batteries on Goat’s Point; besides this, splinter-proofs were provided for the reliefs, so that every protection possible was secured to the men. The result proved with how great success these preparations were made; during the bombardment of thirty hours the gunners lost but one man killed or wounded. The work occupied six weeks, and was chiefly performed by the Seventh Connecticut, Colonel Terry, the Forty-fifth New York, Colonel Ross, and a detachment of Volunteer Engineers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Hall. When the guns were nearly all in position, a battalion of the Third Rhode Island Volunteer Artillery was sent to Tybee to assist in manning the guns, and later the Eighth Maine regiment, Colonel Rust.

The mounting of ordnance was executed under the direction of Lieutenant Porter, of the U. S. army; he also assumed the entire charge of all duties connected with the ordnance department on the island, supervised the landing of ammunition and implements, and directed the transportation of all the guns. This was a task of infinite labor. The transportation of heavy guns, always difficult, was here rendered peculiarly so. They had to be landed through a bad surf on an open beach, and thence dragged by the soldiers for nearly two miles through a yielding sand. The works were placed so as to be hidden from the enemy until they opened fire. Battery Totten was nearly 1,700 yards from the fort; Batteries Sigel and McClellan 1,620; Battery Scott nearly 1,677; Battery Halleck 2,400; Battery Burnside and others were all more than 3,000; Battery Grant 3,500 yards away. Breaching casemated forts at this distance had never been supposed practicable in modern warfare; indeed, 800 yards is the greatest distance at which it was ever attempted.

On the 9th of April the batteries were completed, the guns placed, and the magazines filled. General Viele had constructed a co-operating battery on the southern extremity of Long Island, in the Savannah, and not more than two miles, if so far, from the fort. The purpose of this was to obtain a reverse fire during the bombardment, which otherwise would proceed entirely from Tybee Island. This battery was not completed in time to engage in the first day’s action, but opened fire on the second.

A day or two before the bombardment actually commenced, General Hunter (who had superseded General Sherman in command of the land forces at Hilton Head) and his aids, and General Benham with his staff, came down on steamers from Hilton Head to be present during the engagement, though the command was left with General Gillmore.

On the 9th of April General Gillmore issued orders when the bombardment should be opened, and the part which each of the batteries should take in the work. General Hunter sent a letter to Colonel Charles H. Olmstead, First Regiment Georgia Volunteers, demanding an unconditional surrender of the fort to the United States; and representing the loss of life which would occur if resistance were made to the numerous batteries with which he was surrounded. Colonel Olmstead replied briefly, saying in language worthy of a more sacred cause, “I am here to defend the fort, not to surrender it.” When Lieutenant J. H. Wilson returned with this reply, orders were given to open fire from the batteries, and at half-past seven A. M., the first shot was fired from Battery Halleck. The other batteries followed, and Fort Pulaski promptly responded.

The guns for some time not obtaining the proper range, were ineffective. The Federal gunners after a little time learned to distinguish the various shot fired by the enemy, and the range they had. When a gun was fired, and the shot was seen approaching, the cry of “casemate” or “barbette” was given, and they sheltered themselves accordingly. Still later in the engagement they distinguished the shot by the cry “barbette” and “rifle,” and when the latter was fired they protected themselves under cover, as far as possible. The same skill was attained by the rebels in the fort.

The bombardment had continued several hours, when two mortar batteries along the shore outside of the fort, on Goat’s Point, opened, and to them the enemy directed his hottest fire.

About one o’clock the halyards attached to the flagstaff were shot away, and the flag came down, but was immediately raised in a less conspicuous place. During the afternoon an embrasure in the _pancoupe_, on the south-east angle of the fort, was struck repeatedly, and pieces of the brick work gave way. This angle was the nearest point to the batteries, and in a direct line with the magazine of Fort Pulaski—a fact well known to the Federals from plans of the work in their possession. Afterwards all efforts to effect a breach were directed to this spot. Several of the most important guns, however, were out of order; the mortar shells were observed to fall mostly wide of the mark; and no great result could be noticed even when one fell within the fort. Numerous marks, however, all along both faces of the work which were exposed, told the force and accuracy of the firing. By nightfall, the breach was so far effected that it was evident it could eventually be converted into a practicable one. The bombardment was discontinued at dark, three mortar batteries firing one shell each at intervals of five minutes all night long, worrying the enemy, and preventing any attempt to stop the breach, but without any idea of doing material harm. Several of his guns had evidently been dismounted, and others silenced, during the day. The breach had been commenced, but on the whole the result did not seem especially encouraging. The men and officers were very thoroughly tired with the severe work they had undergone, and the still more fatiguing excitement; few had found time to eat or drink. Many, however, had night duties to perform. Strong infantry pickets were placed, and still stronger supports, in expectation an attempt would be made to relieve the garrison.

Shortly after daybreak all the batteries were opened again. The reply was more vigorous than on the day before. On the Federal side every gun was in readiness, and did good service. The great columbiads under Captain Pelouze were especially effective; they certainly shook the walls of old Pulaski, and damaged them to a considerable extent. All along the line the firing was more rapid and more accurate, five shots striking the walls within as many seconds. Rebel officers said that, on an average, one out of three shots that were fired took effect, and that during all of the second day one shot or shell every minute was the average they received. Early in the morning Captain Seldenkirk, of Battery Sigel, was relieved, and Captain C. P. R. Rodgers, of the frigate Wabash, with a portion of her crew, worked several of the guns of this battery during the remainder of the fight. At the same time Captain Turner, Chief of Commissary on General Hunter’s staff, and Lieutenant Wilson, undertook to drill a detachment of the Eighth Maine Volunteers (Colonel Rust). These men went to work, were drilled under fire, and in ten minutes were able to serve their guns with more than tolerable accuracy, and did some of the most effective service rendered that day. This same regiment lay not more than half a mile in the rear of Battery Halleck, for more than half of the entire engagement, covered only by some brushwood, but perfectly content with their exposed position.

Early on the second day, especial attention was directed to the breach. Every gun that could be brought to bear upon the _pancoupe_ was trained that way, and directly the aperture began to show the effects. In an hour it became large enough for two men to enter abreast, and the nearest embrasure on its left was also considerably enlarged. Meanwhile, all the other effects of the day before were enhanced; shots struck all over the two exposed faces of the fort; the mortar batteries on the shore of Cockspur Island were silenced, and several of the casemate guns were struck through the embrasures. The battery put up by General Viele, on Long Island, opened fire that morning, and received repeated replies, rendering good service by the destruction it occasioned. The gunboat Norwich, laying on the right of the fort, also became engaged—the distance, however, was too great for her to render any special assistance,—still she got an occasional answer from the garrison. On this day clouds of red dust were seen to rise more frequently from the fort, indicating that the brickwork of which it is constructed was breaking up, and after a while, the great breach became so large that the propriety of a storming party was discussed. The lower part of the aperture was partly filled by the _debris_ that fell from above; the arch of the casemate was laid bare, while evidently shaken, a gun in barbette, immediately over the breach, was tottering and ready to tumble below. The breach by its side was also momentarily becoming wider, and just as General Benham was questioning whether a messenger should not be sent to demand a surrender, before risking so great a loss of human life as must be incurred in an assault, the rebel flag on old Pulaski was lowered half way, and a final shot fired from a casemate in the fort. As the flag was not completely hauled down, the Unionists were for a moment uncertain of its import, but all firing was ordered to cease. In a minute more the white flag was raised, and with cheer after cheer all along the batteries on Tybee, came down the stars and bars. It was on the 11th of April, a year to a day from the time when the stars and stripes were first dishonored by Americans at Fort Sumter.

General Hunter was aboard the McClellan with his aides, watching the engagement. Generals Gillmore and Benham were active, and rode rapidly out to Goat’s Point. On arriving at this place, General Gillmore, with his aid, Mr. Badeau, and Colonel Rust, entered a boat and put off for the fort. The passage was rough, the channel unknown, and the skiff got aground, and was nearly upset; but at last, soaked and dripping, the party landed on Cockspur Island.

They were met near the landing-place by Captain Sims, of the Georgia Volunteers, who conducted them to the fort. Colonel Olmstead, the commandant, stood at the entrance, and received them courteously. He invited General Gillmore into his own quarters, for a private interview. The terms of capitulation were arranged, and General Gillmore was then conducted over the fort by the Colonel, and took his leave, accompanied by Colonel Rust. General Hunter, in the mean time, had sent messengers to the fort. Colonel Olmstead showed them around the works, and conducted them to the interior, when the swords were delivered. This took place in the Colonel’s headquarters, all standing. Major Halpine represented General Hunter. As soon as this ceremony was over, the American flag was raised, and the stars and stripes floated again on the walls of Fort Pulaski. In giving up his sword, Colonel Olmstead said, “I yield my sword, but I trust I have not disgraced it.”

The arms of the privates had been previously stacked on the parade, and the men marched to quarters. Both officers and men were allowed to remain all night in their usual quarters. The interior of the fort presented a sorry picture. Blindages had been put up extending on all the rampart, and a part rendered bomb-proof; but shot and shell had burst through many of the sides—knocked in walls, broken down stairways, entered casemates, upset guns, and piled up masses of rubbish and _debris_ all around. Seven guns on the parapet were dismounted; nearly every traverse had been struck and partly torn to pieces; all the passageways were obstructed by piles of stones and fallen timber; the magazine had been struck, and part of its outer casing of brick torn away, while at the breach, the havoc was, of course, greatest of all. The breach was entirely practicable; the ditch, sixty feet across, was more than half filled up by the fragments that had fallen, and half a dozen men abreast could have entered the aperture. The Colonel declared, however, that he should have held out until nightfall, had the magazine not been struck. This, of course, settled his fate, and rendered any prolonged resistance a useless risk of human life. Forty thousand pounds of powder, seven thousand shot and shell, and forty-seven guns were captured. The prisoners were three hundred and sixty in number, and belonged to the Georgia Volunteers, the Oglethorpe Light Infantry, and to a German regiment. The Colonel excited the sympathies of his captors by a bearing at once soldierly and subdued. The officers invited the Unionists to their quarters, where several took supper, and some even slept with the rebels whom they had been fighting a few hours before. There was no apparent bitterness on either side; no desire to introduce personal animosities.

This long and severely contested siege resulted in the loss of only two lives, while the number of wounded was very small. This fact is remarkable, in view of the immense amount of shot and shell exchanged during the bombardment.

On Sunday, the 13th, the men were divided into two parties—the officers and about two-thirds of the men forming the first, who were placed on the Ben de Ford—the remainder on the Honduras, and taken to Bay Point. Here they were transferred to the McClellan and Star of the South, to be sent to Fort Columbus, in the harbor of New York.

BATTLE OF SOUTH MILLS, CAMDEN, N. C.

APRIL 20, 1862.

A short but severely contested engagement took place on the 20th of April, between the command of General J. L. Reno, and a body of rebels posted in a strong position to intercept the supposed advance of the Federal troops on Norfolk. General Burnside directed General Reno to make a demonstration on that city, and the latter, taking with him from Newbern the Twenty-first Massachusetts and Fifty-first Pennsylvania, proceeded to Roanoke, where he was joined by detachments of the Eighty-ninth New York and Sixth New Hampshire. With these forces he started for Elizabeth City, and commenced disembarking at midnight, on the 19th, at a point about three miles below the city, on the east side.

By three A. M. Colonel Hawkins’ brigade, consisting of the Ninth and Eighty-ninth New York, and Sixth New Hampshire, were landed and ready to move. Colonel Hawkins proceeded with his brigade toward South Mills. General Reno remained to bring up the other two regiments, which had been delayed by the grounding of their vessels at the mouth of the river. They came up at daylight, and were landed by seven A. M. General Reno marched directly toward South Mills, and about twelve miles out met Colonel Hawkins, with his brigade, who, either by the treachery or incompetency of his guide, had been led some miles out of his way. As his men were very much jaded by the long march, they were ordered to follow the Second brigade, about four miles further, to within a mile and a half of South Mills.

The rebels were posted here, and opened a fire of artillery, before the advanced guard discovered them. General Reno reconnoitered their position, and found that they were posted strongly in a line perpendicular to the road, their infantry in ditches, their artillery commanding all the direct approaches, and their rear protected by a dense forest. He ordered the Fifty-first Pennsylvania immediately to file to the right, and pass over to the edge of the woods, to turn their left—the Twenty-first Massachusetts pursuing the same course; and when Colonel Hawkins came up with his brigade, he was sent with the Ninth and Eighty-ninth New York to their support.