Recollections with the Third Iowa Regiment

by Seymour D. Thompson

Captain Smith was in command of our regiment. The Third Brigade had been discontinued, and General Lauman was assigned to the command of the First Brigade.

April 24th, the division broke up camp and moved forward to Shiloh Springs, where it camped with McClernand on its right, Sherman on its left, and Wallace in the rear. The camp of our regiment was on a beautiful open field, a quarter of a mile to the rear of the Springs. We found here in a block house a rebel hospital, and near our camp the brush and saplings were cut down so as to form a sort of abattis. This had been done by the enemy in his retreat. The improvement in air and water, scenery and associations, rendered our change of camp highly beneficial.

Here for the first time since landing at Pittsburg we began to do picket duty. This duty was no unimportant part of the details of the advance upon Corinth. Each division picketed its own front under a division picket officer. Our brigade furnished each day for picket 150 men with the proper complement of officers. The picket line was here about a mile and a half in advance of the camps. Our infantry picket line, unless circumstances determined otherwise, was aimed to be disposed as follows: One half in reserve; the other half in a line composed of squads of six men each under a non-commissioned officer, one hundred and fifty yards in advance of the reserves. Each of these squads was divided into three reliefs of two men each, and a chain of sentries, two at a post, stationary and as much as possible concealed from view, was kept up still in advance. Beyond all on the roads were the cavalry videttes. Here, though the picketing was sometimes badly, and even shamefully performed through the negligence of officers, we were learning for the first time since being in the service to do picket duty well. Our picket line thus admirably formed was a complete safeguard against surprise, and was so strong that it would have resisted the enemy long enough for the troops in the rear to form line of battle before being attacked. A similar picket line before the battle of Shiloh would have done much to prevent the disastrous surprise of Sunday morning. It was estimated that throughout the army not less than ten thousand men were detailed for picket duty each day.

The degree of pleasure we took in this work depended greatly upon circumstances—the officers in command, the character of the country where we were posted, the state of the weather, and the degree of vigilance necessary to be kept up. I have a vivid recollection of a day on picket in front of Shiloh Springs. Capt. Wright, 53d Illinois, was picket officer for the brigade that day. He posted the men admirably; he impressed upon them by words and manner the responsibility of the position, and maintained throughout the entire tour a degree of vigilance which it was really a lesson to contemplate. Not a man even in the brigade reserve was allowed to take off his accoutrements or sleep day or night. It was a delightful day, a soft breeze blowing and the sun warm. Nothing of the offensive effluvia of the camps; but the woods all fragrant and green and unmangled by the axes of soldiers. None of the constant and wearisome clamor of voices as in the camps; but a quiet siesta under the shady oaks, breathing the sweet air, and hearing only the birds, and the distant bands discoursing martial airs. During the day the detail from the 3d Iowa was in reserve. We were allowed to kindle in a hollow a small fire over which to cook our coffee and fry our bacon. We had long since learned to ask for nothing better than pilot bread, and that a piece of meat broiled on a stick or in the ashes, is as sweet as when cooked in a pan. One or two unlucky porkers strayed close to us, and were covertly put out of the way. Of course the good old captain was sure not to know how we got the fresh meat we had for dinner. Could we be blamed for that?—we who so long had tasted nothing better than salt bacon and hard crackers? Certainly not. The old captain, whatever his suspicions might have been, did not object to a slice himself. Toward evening, our good friend, General Hurlbut, always ready to give us good news when it came, but never particular about publishing any that was bad, sent an orderly to read to us a dispatch that Farragut had captured New Orleans. We were not allowed to cheer, but it seemed as though there would no end to our rejoicing. So great was our joy that we endured almost with a gusto the drenching rain that set in about dark, when we took position in the advanced line. Still we could have rejoiced full as well in our dry tents. For in Tennessee "when it rains it pours." The air is full of rain. The clouds break away until you can see the stars through them, and still it rains. But to-night the clouds nowhere broke away, but hung over us, the rain pouring down without interruption till gray morning. Of course we were not allowed to kindle fires in the night, especially upon the advanced line. We had no artificial shelters, and were compelled to stand up and—let it rain. At daylight we were relieved and put in reserve, and at ten o'clock the new guard marched up, and we returned to camp.

April 27th, the 1st Brigade was reviewed and inspected by Brig. Gen. J——, Inspector General for the Army of the West. This officer was a model in his way. His dress and horse equipments looked splendid. He looked altogether out of place. It was the parade general, gorgeously dressed, without a speck of dirt upon his horse or uniform. His almost beardless face white and delicate as though he had been raised in a bandbox, coming among a host of sunburnt soldiers on active duty, whose guns were rusty on the outside from exposure in constant rains, and whose single suit of clothing, greasy from handling and cooking rations, and dirty from wading and sleeping in the mud, fell far short of his standard of soldierly appearance. His look, so imperious and haughty, was sufficient to set us to hating him from the first. We could not but observe that he never turned his head, but only his eyes, to look at us, and that when our colors passed him in review, he did not uncover his head as our own generals were wont to do, but only slightly lifted his hat. Still he went through his work with a rapidity and precision which astonished us, and left upon us the impression that he was a valuable officer to the service, and an extraordinary man in his way.

April 30th, we had just finished our monthly inspection, when orders came for the division to advance. Leaving our sick behind and taking all our baggage, we moved on the main Corinth road about five miles to the southwest. We passed on the way wagons, caissons, knapsacks, clothing, and other evidences of the enemy's retreat. We also passed a dilapidated log building house, and near it a deserted rebel camp, full of tents, destroyed commissary stores, clothing, and camp equipage, everything indicating a hasty evacuation. We camped on what is known as Pea Ridge, a high backbone of country, four miles from Shiloh Springs and nine from Pittsburg Landing. From this commanding eminence we could look around us over a wide space of country. The whole army was advancing in columns, moving upon different roads. The hour of expected bloody work was drawing nigh. Sherman with the 5th Division had the honor of forming the right of the army. With twelve regiments of infantry and one of cavalry he had the enormous complement of nine batteries of artillery. He was now camped on the Corinth road a short distance beyond us, while McClernand and Wallace were about two miles in our rear.

Our camp was dry and airy, and the water was passable. We constructed ovens of clay; for a part of our bread ration was now drawn in flour, and it took us some time to learn to accommodate ourselves to the use of the iron bake-kettle of which the deserted camp we had just passed furnished a goodly supply. These ovens were constructed by driving four crotches into the ground, and upon these placing two sticks, upon which was laid a floor of short poles. Upon this we piled a compact layer of clay mortar eight or ten inches thick. Then a flour barrel, open at the top and with a hole about six inches square cut in the side near the other end, was laid upon this with the hole upward where the chimney would be built, as a support for the soft clay. As soon as this was completed and the chimney built, a fire would be kindled in the barrel, and as soon as it had burned out and the staves fallen in, the clay would be sufficiently dry to support itself. These ovens subserved their purpose excellently, and furnished many a meal of warm biscuit and light bread, such as reminded us of home. We had begun to fix up our tents, too—to construct hickory bark cots; for here we could get no boards—and to get ourselves in shape to be comfortable, when up came another order for the division to advance next morning, May 4th, at 7 o'clock. Those of the sick who would be unable to do duty in ten days were to remain behind under charge of a medical officer. But three tents to the company were to be taken—one for the officers and two for the men. We were to take three days' cooked rations in haversacks. About 4 P. M. of the 3d, while we were making preparations for the march, a cannonade commenced three or four miles to the south and continued for over an hour with rapid and sharp discharges. It was said to be Pope's Parrott guns shelling the enemy out of Farmington. This seemed ominous of something to come. But we continued our preparations undisturbed.

The morning was heavy with clouds, and the column was scarcely in motion when a drizzling rain set in. We first passed through the camp of Sherman, just evacuated. We noticed that much commissary and sutler's stores had been abandoned, which we afterwards learned were appropriated and made good use of by the sick we had left behind. Here we left the Corinth way and bore more to the right. Near the late camp of the 6th Iowa, we noticed a short line of rifle pits which had been dug by that regiment. It was an insignificant work, but it was the first we had seen in Tennessee since landing at Pittsburg. It had been made to protect the right wing of Sherman's line. It shook our confidence in our efficiency against the enemy we were to encounter. It almost made us afraid. Still we could not but regard it as a wise precaution. We moved slowly, constructing bridges and corduroy roads as we advanced. Late in the afternoon, we passed through Monterey, a town of one or two houses, dignified by being built on a hill. About a mile beyond we went into camp. The roads were almost impassable. Our teams foundered and our wagons sunk to the hubs in the mud. I could conceive of no situation more unenviable than that of teamster that day. It was really noon the next day before our baggage was able to arrive. Wet and fatigued, we made us beds of leaves, wrapped up in our blankets, and passed without other covering a night of incessant rain.

The following day we had pitched our tents, dried our clothes, and commenced building ovens and cooking fresh rations, when an order came to march that night or in the morning. Next morning at eight o'clock we loaded our baggage and again moved forward. We passed Sherman's yesterday camp along the right of which, and fronting to the west, was a line of rifle pits defended by an abattis. Just as we had got beyond these works, McLean's division marched up and occupied them. After proceeding about two miles, the division was deployed in line facing toward the south, and we thus went into camp.

The single day that we stayed here was marked by two incidents, the news of the evacuation of Yorktown, which gave us great joy, and the affectionate farewell of Mr. Fox, our legitimate sutler. This man had first joined us at Chillicothe, Missouri. He had been allowed by our different regimental commanders to neglect and abuse the functions of his office most shamefully. He had never consulted our wants, but his own profit and convenience. When we had money and he competition, he sold reasonably; but when we were without money or were where we could buy of no one but him, he charged exorbitant prices for his goods. On the march or transport, and after hard marches or long movements, when we needed a sutler most, we were sure to be without one. When we had been some days in camp at Pittsburg Landing, he had joined us with a meager stock, having left most of his goods with his partner who had established a store at Savannah. When we broke up camp here and advanced, he found it more convenient to remain behind and sell to transient customers than to follow us immediately. At this point, however, he came up with an ox-wagon loaded with goods, pitched a small tent and opened shop. A party of the boys immediately gathered about his tent and testified their esteem for him, and their admiration for the course he had taken, by cutting his tent ropes and carrying off about a hundred dollars worth of goods, to which all their comrades said "Amen." Here our benefactor left us, after exchanging with us the most complimentary adieus. The next time we heard of him, he was "relieved from duty," and in "close confinement" among a lot of butternut prisoners near the Landing, for being too great an admirer of a horse that belonged to one of General Halleck's orderlies.