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.”