[CHAPTER XV.]
The enemy's reconnoissance, April 4th—The alarm 5th April—THE BATTLE OF SHILOH—The soldier's impression of a battle—Stragglers and their shameful conduct—The different movements and positions of our division and brigade in the battle—Appearance of General Grant—Gallant charge and repulse of a rebel brigade.
On the evening of the 4th of April, while a heavy thunderstorm was raging, we heard dull sounds in advance like the firing of infantry. It was the 5th Ohio Cavalry encountering a reconnoitering force of the enemy. These sounds created little alarm until, when both they and the storm had ceased, the long-roll began to beat in the different camps. But for some reason the drums of the Third Iowa were silent, until General Hurlbut rode through our camp and impatiently ordered them to beat. When the long-roll had ceased beating, there arose a noise throughout the camps which sounded more like the ghost of a battle than any thing to which it can be likened. It was the men bursting caps to clear out the tubes of their guns. General Hurlbut hurried his troops forward to the support of Sherman. The regiments joined one after another in the column as they took the road. The mud was deep, the artillery wheels sinking nearly to the hubs, and what made it worse, it was already getting quite dark.
When we had advanced about three-quarters of a mile, General Hurlbut received orders to turn back. This put the boys in great glee; for we did not at all relish the idea of sleeping in the mud without blankets, and we had no expectation of a fight. The dullest soldier now found occasion to explode a little wit, and numerous and loud were the jokes and retorts that passed from mouth to mouth, as the column straggled through the deep mud. The general himself did not escape being holloaed at ever and anon by some graceless wag. We went to sleep that night without any apprehensions in consequence of the alarm, although we had heard General Hurlbut say that the enemy was either evacuating Corinth or moving against us; and that this cavalry movement was either a feint to deceive us, or a reconnoissance to discover our position.
The following day, all was quiet throughout the camps. No one seemed to think of such a thing as the immediate presence of the enemy. Several boats arrived loaded with troops, among which were the 16th Iowa, 18th Wisconsin, and Madison's battery of siege guns. Madison's men had been with us in Missouri, and we greeted them almost as friends. These two infantry regiments were undrilled and had just received their arms. They were sent forward to Prentiss in the advance.
There were rumors among us that Buell had arrived at Savannah; but no one seemed to feel certain that it was so. From the front there were no tidings of any thing unusual—not an intimation of the nearness of the enemy. Over all was settled a frightful calm. It was that which indicates the gathering storm. Within an hour's march of us the enemy was taking his positions for battle. What a whirlwind was preparing for the morrow!
We have reached a day when history pauses and hesitates. It began in astonishment and cloud and mystery. It developed into a tempest. It ended in disaster and wreck. Officers and men alike it blinded. It is doubtful whether the commanding general, once on the field, succeeded in comprehending it. The soldier that fights in a battle neither sees, hears nor understands it. It is a confusion, an infinitude of noises, an earthquake of jarring multitudes. A man plunges into it, and the fountains of his emotions are broken up. He endeavors to hear and see and realize all that is taking place around him; but his faculties recoil exhausted. The situation masters him. He yields himself to it, and sees himself drifted on like a grain of sand in a tornado. A thousand sights and sounds and emotions rush upon him; but he does not comprehend them. Nevertheless there are certain bold outlines that imprint themselves on his memory. When the storm is over, he closes his eyes and senses to see again this indistinguishable spectral train of terrible images. All reappear before him,—lines of battle advancing and retreating, infantry rushing, and batteries galloping to and fro;—over all, the smoke of battle, as if endeavoring to shut out the gaze of Heaven, and amid all a deafening crash of sounds, as if it were feared some higher voice than man's would be heard forbidding.