Part 15 (1/2)

The woods rang with the exultant shouts of the Rebels, as Prentiss and his men were marched towards Corinth. They had possession of the camps of all the divisions except Wallace's. Beauregard had redeemed his promise. They could sleep in the enemy's camps.

SUNDAY EVENING.

Look at the situation of General Grant's army. It is crowded back almost to the Landing. It is not more than a mile from the river to the extreme right, where Sherman and McClernand are trying to rally their disorganized divisions. All is confusion. Half of the artillery is lost.

Many of the guns remaining are disabled. Some that are good are deserted by the artillerymen. There is a stream of fugitives to the Landing, who are thinking only how to escape. There are thousands on the river-bank, crowding upon the transports. They have woeful stories. Instead of being in their places, and standing their ground like men, they have deserted their brave comrades, and left them to be overwhelmed by the superior force of the enemy.

As you look at the position of the army and the condition of the troops at this hour, just before sunset, there is not much to hope for. But there are some men who have not lost heart. ”We shall hold them yet,”

says General Grant.

An officer with gold-lace bands upon his coat-sleeve, and a gold band on his cap, walks up-hill from the Landing. It is an officer of the gunboat Tyler, commanded by Captain Gwin, who thinks he can be of some service.

Shot and sh.e.l.ls from the Rebel batteries have been falling in the river, and he would like to toss some into the woods.

”Tell Captain Gwin to use his own discretion and judgment,” is the reply.

The officer hastens back to the Tyler. The Lexington is by her side. The men spring to the guns, and the sh.e.l.ls go tearing up the ravine, exploding in the Rebel ranks, now ma.s.sed for the last grand a.s.sault. All day long the men of the gunboats have heard the roar of the conflict coming nearer and nearer, and have had no opportunity to take a part, but now their time has come. The vessels sit gracefully upon the placid river. They cover themselves with white clouds, and the deep-mouthed cannon bellow their loudest thunders, which roll miles away along the winding stream. It is sweet music to those disheartened men forming to resist the last advance of the Rebels, now almost within reach of the coveted prize.

Colonel Webster, General Grant's chief of staff, an engineer and artillerist, with a quick eye, has selected a line of defence. There is a deep ravine just above Pittsburg Landing, which extends northwest half a mile. There are five heavy siege-guns, three thirty-two-pounders, and two eight-inch howitzers on the top of the bluff by the Landing. They have been standing there a week, but there are no artillerists to man them. Volunteers are called for. Dr. Cornyn, Surgeon of the First Missouri Artillery, offers his services. Artillerists who have lost their guns are collected. Round shot and sh.e.l.l are carried up from the boats. Fugitives who have lost their regiments are put to work.

Pork-barrels are rolled up and placed in a line. Men go to work with spades, and throw up a rude embankment. The heavy guns are wheeled into position to sweep the ravine and all the ground beyond. Everything is done quickly. There is no time for delay. Men work as never before.

Unless they can check the enemy, all is lost. Energy, activity, determination, endurance, and bravery must be concentrated into this last effort.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FIGHT AT THE RAVINE.

1 Union batteries.

2 Rebel batteries.

3 Ravine.

4 Gunboats.

5 Transports.]

Commencing nearest the river, on the ridge of the ravine, you see two of McAllister's twenty-four-pounders, next four of Captain Stone's ten pounders, then Captain Walker with one twenty-pounder, then Captain Silversparre with four twenty-pounder Parrott guns, which throw rifled projectiles, then two twenty-pound howitzers, which throw grape and canister. Then you come to the road which leads up to s.h.i.+loh church.

There you see six bra.s.s field-pieces; then Captain Richardson's battery of four twenty-pounder Parrott guns; then a six-pounder and two twelve-pound howitzers of Captain Powell's battery; then the siege-guns, under Surgeon Cornyn and Captain Madison; then two ten-pounders, under Lieutenant Edwards, and two more under Lieutenant Timony. There are more guns beyond,--Taylor's, Willard's, and what is left of Schwartz's battery, and Mann's, Dresser's, and Ross's,--about sixty guns in all.

The broken regiments are standing or lying down. The line, instead of being four miles long, as it was in the morning, is not more than a mile in length now. The regiments are all mixed up. There are men from a dozen in one, but they can fight notwithstanding that.

The Rebel commanders concentrate all their forces near the river, to charge through the ravine, scale the other side, rush down the road and capture the steamboats. They plant their batteries along the bank, bringing up all their guns, to cut their way by shot and sh.e.l.l. If they can but gain a foothold on the other side, the day is theirs. The Union army will be annihilated, Tennessee redeemed. Buell will be captured or pushed back to the Ohio River. The failing fortunes of the Confederacy will revive. Recognition by foreign nations will be secured. How momentous the hour!

Beauregard's troops were badly cut to pieces, and very much disorganized. The Second Texas, which had advanced through the peach-orchard, was all gone, and was not reorganized during the fight.

Colonel Moore, commanding a brigade, says: ”So unexpected was the shock, that the whole line gave way from right to left in utter confusion. The regiments became so scattered and mixed that all efforts to reform them became fruitless.”[14]

[Footnote 14: Colonel Moore's Report.]

Chalmers's brigade was on the extreme right. What was left of Jackson's came next. Breckenridge, with his shattered brigades, was behind Chalmers. Trabue, commanding a brigade of Kentuckians, was comparatively fresh. Withers's, Cheatham's, and Ruggles's divisions were at the head of the ravine. Gibson, who had been almost annihilated, was there.

Stewart, Anderson, Stephens, and Pond were on the ground from which Wallace had been driven. As the brigades filed past Beauregard, he said to them, ”Forward, boys, and drive them into the Tennessee.”[15]

[Footnote 15: Ruggles's Report.]