With Grant at Fort Donelson, Shiloh and Vicksburg / and an appreciation of General U. S. Grant

by Wilbur F. Crummer

Many of the boys made light of their mishaps. We pitched our tents near a farm house, and the planter, not knowing our reputation at home for honesty and uprightness, went to our Colonel and asked that a guard be placed around the farm house to protect him and his property. The Colonel granted the request, for at this stage of war, orders were very strict about foraging and taking anything from the planters. It fell to the writer’s lot to stand guard for two hours that night, during that fearful storm, over some pigs. How disgusted he was: the idea of enlisting to fight for “Old Glory” and save the Union, and the first thing he had to do was to guard a lot of dirty pigs that were not half as good as those in his father’s farm yard, but “orders is orders,” as Jim said, and ’tis a soldier’s duty to obey. Strict orders were issued that no trespassing would be permitted and a soldier caught stealing would be severely punished. My two hours of guard duty over those pigs was up at last and I turned them over to another sentinel. During the night a great squawking was heard, and in the early morning the owner of the farm complained to our Colonel that the soldiers had stolen his geese. The Colonel ordered an officer to search each tent to find the stolen geese and the thieves. When the officer came to our tent, he commenced to turn over our blankets and knapsacks. There was one sleepy fellow lying down with his head on his knapsack for a pillow, apparently sound asleep; the officer touched him, but he slept on and one of the boys said: “Don’t wake that fellow up, he’s been on guard duty all night.”

“All right,” said the kind-hearted officer and passed out of the tent. How relieved we were when he had gone away, for that sleepy fellow had his head on his knapsack which held the goose. Of course we had goose for breakfast, and it tasted mighty good if it was a “Dixie” goose. Don’t ask me who stole it, for I’ll never tell, and my comrades will not tell.

The next morning we took up our line of march toward Fort Henry. The rain had fallen the night before, making the roads very muddy. Many times we had to stop, stack arms, throw off knapsacks and put our shoulders to the wheels of the artillery and help them out of the mud holes. We came to several streams not bridged, but we were enthusiastic in our seeking the enemy and spoiling for a fight. Taking no time to build temporary bridges, we plunged into the water waist deep and pushed ahead. This made me think of what I had read of our Revolutionary fathers “wading swollen streams and toiling through almost impassible barriers to fight for their liberty and rights.”

We hadn’t come to the fighting yet, but we hoped to do so soon; then we could class ourselves with our forefathers. Now, I smile over the thought I had then when a lad of 18 years, and though you may smile, the thought comes that if we youngsters had not had the spirit of emulating the deeds of our forefathers, where would this grand nation be today?

In the distance the gunboats were hammering away at Fort Henry, and as the sound of the booming cannon came to our ears we wished we were there to attack from the land side. Commodore A. H. Foote, with five gunboats, had attacked the fort and the fight was a most thrilling picture; the whizzing of fragments of bursting shells; the deafening roar of the guns in the fort; the black sides of five gunboats belching fire at every port hole was something to be remembered a lifetime. The fire from the gunboats dismounted seven big guns and brought down the flagstaff, and, together with the bursting of a rifled gun in the fort, created a panic in the enemy’s ranks. A shot from the enemy passed through the boiler of the Essex and many were scalded. When the Union tars were told that the enemy had surrendered, a sailor named Breas, who was badly wounded, sprang to his feet saying, “Surrender! I must see that with my own eyes before I die,” and then, climbing two short nights of stairs to the deck, he saw a white flag flying over Fort Henry, and shouted, “Glory to God!” sank exhausted on the deck and died that night.

We were tramping along in the mud when a messenger passed along the line announcing the capture of the fort by the gunboats. Some of us cheered, but others were silent and really felt sore at the sailors for their taking of the fort before we had a chance to help them. How foolish we were then. We had enough of fighting ere the war was over, and after the first battle we never begrudged other forces the honor of gaining a victory without our help. Most of the enemy had “skedaddled” to Fort Donelson. Commodore Foote took a small number of prisoners, together with Commander General Tighlman. It was after dark when we reached the outer earthworks, inside of which we camped. Here we spent our second night in Dixie, without any shelter save the blue sky above us. We built large fires and managed to keep fairly comfortable, although it was pretty cold. Will was up very early the next morning, and, having an intense desire to see the inside of the fort, took “French leave” and started in that direction. (A French leave is nothing more than a “pass” taken on your own responsibility.) He found that the fort was situated on a very low piece of land; indeed, it was a swamp, nearly all surrounded by water. The works were well constructed, but whoever selected this as a suitable site for a fort was, Will thought, either insane or knew nothing of modern warfare. Ignorant as Will was of military ways, he said he would not have picked on this place for a fort. Here Will had his first view of the dead and mangled upon the battle field. One of the largest of the cannon had burst while the cannonading was in progress and this carried destruction to all those around the gun, tearing them all to pieces. Will said afterwards: “I shall to my dying day carry that picture in my memory.” Now, for the first time, did Will realize the horrors of war. In his eagerness to secure relics he knocked off a large piece of the bursted cannon and with other relics he loaded himself down, but after carrying them for a while he threw them away, thinking it would be a long time ere he returned home, as it surely proved to be. After viewing the destruction on every hand until he was satisfied, Will returned to camp in time to escape being noticed by his officer.

FORT DONELSON

CHAPTER II.

With the fall of Fort Henry, we started toward Fort Donelson. The roads were muddy and the country hilly, making the marching hard work. About 3 o’clock p. m. of February 12, 1862, the distant booming of cannon told us all too plainly that we were near the enemy, and we were urged to greater speed. When within two miles of the fort a group of officers passed us, among them Gen. Grant, Gen. W. H. L. Wallace, Col. Oglesby and others. We were ordered to unsling knapsacks and leave them in company piles, with a guard over them, and then away we went over hills, valleys and ravines, through the woods and dense thickets. After having marched about a mile and a half we were halted, darkness having arrived. The night was very chilly and cold. Our boys had left their knapsacks two miles to the rear and were without blankets. Cold, hungry and disappointed, we shivered during that long, dreary night, and began to realize what an earnest, cruel thing a soldier’s life was. But it was our first experience, and we knew nothing about making ourselves comfortable. We learned better after a while and always carried our blankets with us, whether in battle or not. It is the best plan to always have a blanket with you. During the night it rained and turned very cold. We were forbidden to leave the lines, hence could not go back for our blankets. Will gathered up a pile of leaves and crept into them, but this did not keep him warm, and becoming cold he got up and paced back and forth to try to keep warm.

At the first streak of day—February 13, 1862—the enemy bade us good morning by sending us a shell that burst close to our lines, but doing little damage. The boys were mad and, gathering their muskets, said: “Let’s show them that we are not to be shot at without returning the compliment,” but our officers were not ready to give us a chance. The battle was on, however, at other points of the line, and at last we were to have our hearts’ desires, namely, of having a shot at the enemy. We were moved shortly to the right and formed in line with our brigade.