McDowell’s brigade had fallen back less slowly than its two companions of the same division. It was now left entirely alone. Having formed the extreme right, it had no support there; its supporting brigades on the left had gone; and through the space they had occupied the rebels were pouring furiously. In imminent danger of being entirely cut off, they fell back among the ravines that border Snake creek.
Sherman was indefatigable in collecting and reorganizing his men, and a contest was kept up along portions of his new lines. The General bore with him one token of the danger to which he had so recklessly exposed himself—a musket ball through the hand. It was a miracle that he escaped so slightly, for his courage had been conspicuous. He had dared death fifty times since the attack was made on his raw division that memorable Sunday morning.
Now the great force of the enemy fell on McClernand’s right. As Sherman fell back, McClernand was compelled to bring in his brigades to protect his left against the onset of the rebels, who, seeing how he had weakened himself, hurled themselves against him with tremendous force. A couple of new regiments, the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Iowa, were brought up; but taking utterly raw troops on the field, under heavy fire, was too severe a trial, and they gave way in confusion. Then the whole division made a change of front, and faced along the Corinth road. Here the batteries were placed in position, and till ten o’clock the rebels were foiled in every attempt to gain the road.
But Sherman having now fallen back there was nothing to prevent the enemy from coming in further out on the road, and turning McClernand’s right. Prompt to seize the advantage, a rebel brigade dashed audaciously through the abandoned camp of the division, pushing up the road in order to come in above McClernand. Where Sherman had been, a battery of rifled guns was turned upon them, hurling fearful slaughter in their midst and driving them back.
But the enemy managed his reserves with great skill. A constant advance of fresh regiments proved overwhelming, and the storm of death swept many a brave Union officer away. Death after death was proclaimed, disaster followed disaster with disheartening quickness.
This was about half-past ten A. M., at which time the enemy had made a furious attack on General McClernand’s whole front. He struggled determinedly; but finding him severely pressed, Sherman moved McDowell’s brigade directly against the left flank of the enemy, forced him back some distance, and then directed the men to avail themselves of every cover—trees, fallen timber, and a wooded valley to the right. The brigade held this position for four long hours, sometimes gaining and at others losing ground, Generals McClernand and Sherman acting in perfect concert, and struggling to maintain this line.
By eleven o’clock, many of the commanders of regiments had fallen, and in some cases not a single field officer remained; yet the fighting continued with desperate earnestness—the fearful contest on both sides was for death or victory. The almost deafening sound of artillery, and the rattle of the musketry, were all that could be heard. The men stood and bravely delivered their fire, regardless of the thunders of artillery and the storm of iron missiles that raked through them. Foot by foot the ground was contested. The wounded fell in heaps on the battle field. There was no easy transportation at hand, but such means as the soldiers could invent were adopted, and their wounded comrades carried to the rear. Many who were hurt fell back without help, while others fought in the ranks until they were actually forced back by their company officers.
Major Eaton, commanding the Eighteenth Illinois, was killed; Colonel Haynie was severely wounded; Colonel Raith, commanding a brigade, had his leg so shattered that amputation was necessary; Major Nevins, of the Eleventh Illinois, was wounded; Lieutenant-Colonel Ransom, of the same regiment, was wounded; three of General McClernand’s staff—Major Schwartz, Major Stewart and Lieutenant Freeman—were wounded, and carried from the field. Line officers had suffered heavily. The batteries were broken up—Schwartz had lost half his guns and sixteen horses. Dresser had lost several of his rifled pieces, three caissons and eighteen horses. McAllister had lost half his twenty-four pound howitzers.
DESPERATE HAND-TO-HAND FIGHT OVER SCHWARTZ’S BATTERY.