The Project Gutenberg eBook, Life and Military Career of Major-General William Tecumseh Sherman, by P. C. (Phineas Camp) Headley

IN THE EVERGLADES OF FLORIDA.

Young Americans
MODERN HISTORY of HEROES

LIFE AND MILITARY CAREER

OF

MAJOR-GENERAL

WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN.

BY

REV. P. C. HEADLEY,

AUTHOR OF “NAPOLEON,” “JOSEPHINE,” “WOMEN OF THE BIBLE,”

“HERO BOY,” ETC., ETC.

NEW YORK:

WILLIAM H. APPLETON, 92 & 94 GRAND STREET.

1865.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by

WM. H. APPLETON,

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the

Southern District of New York.

TO

HENRY STANLEY ALLEN, Esq.,

OF NEW YORK,

THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED,

WITH SINCERE RESPECT AND REGARD,

BY THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

Although General Sherman’s military career has only reached its most interesting and brilliant period, grateful and admiring thousands will welcome an authentic outline of his history to the present time. The facts of his early life were obtained from those who knew him best.

To Colonel Bowman, an appreciative friend of General Sherman, whose sketches of him in the U. S. Service Magazine were graphic and reliable, to the Army and Navy Journal and able correspondents, we are indebted for valuable material.

The pen-portrait of the great commander, by Mr. Alvord, which has never before been published, will be read with special interest.

The volume is not offered to the public as a complete biography, with all that might have been omitted carefully sifted from the essential statements, but the annals of a remarkable man, with incidents connected with his movements; affording the youth and all others, a general view of the nation’s hero, from infancy to the unrivalled distinction he now holds.

May the unpretending volume stimulate the youthful mind to virtuous and noble deeds, while it contributes to the more complete and voluminous memoirs which will be written in the peaceful future before us, for whose blessings of a perpetuated Union and civil liberty we shall owe a lasting debt of gratitude to General Sherman.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

The Boyhood of Heroes—The ancestry of William Teeumseh Sherman—The death of his Father—Why the name of the Indian Chief was given him—The Birth-place of William Tecumseh.

Y youthful reader, you have heard the adage, “the boy is father of the man;” which means clearly, that the principles and habits of early years form the character and destiny of after life. And you will find in the history of nearly all great and good men, in this country certainly, that they began, in humble circumstances, their career. Not that poverty is necessary to success, but the struggle to carve one’s own way in the world, the almost unaided effort to secure an education for a profession or business, develops and strengthens character.

Another thing is true of deservedly eminent men; they were obedient and dutiful while under the parental roof. A selfish, rebellious boy, never made an honored member of society and of the State. You will find illustrations of these truths in the lives of Washington, Adams, Lincoln, Grant, Mitchel, Sherman, and many others, whose fame is lasting as our institutions.

In the year 1634 the Hon. Samuel Sherman, his brother, Rev. John Sherman, and their cousin, Captain John Sherman, who were residents of Dedham, England, came to this country. This was only thirteen years after the May Flower, with its pilgrim company, rocked in Massachusetts Bay. There were no ocean steamers then proudly ploughing the broad Atlantic. In a ship like the plain bark which bore the first colony, whose free principles, civil and religious, lie at the foundation of this Republic, they embarked for the wilderness of the New World.

You can see, in imagination, the white-winged vessel glide from its haven into the “wide, wide sea,” and float like a speck over the waste of waters. The winds blow, the crested billows toss the Shermans, with the rest of the ship’s company, about for weeks; they little dreaming of quite a different storm, in which a descendant would figure so conspicuously, just two hundred and thirty years later. At length the ship reached Boston harbor.

The Rev. John Sherman; a graduate of Immanuel College, “and a Puritan,” went at once to his work. The Sabbath dawned, and under an ancient tree in the present town of Watertown, three miles from Boston, you might have seen a quiet and attentive congregation listening to his first sermon in America. Here he settled, after receiving a call to Milford, Conn. Some of his descendants were excellent and popular divines. The captain also settled there; and from his branch of the family came Roger Sherman, the signer of the Declaration of Independence.

The Hon. Samuel Sherman pushed on to Wethersfield, Conn. Soon after he removed to Stamford, and finally settled down in Stratford. The “coat of arms,” that is to say, the family escutcheon or badge, bears a lion rampant, and a sea lion on the crest. The motto is: “Conquer death by virtue.” From him descended the “hero of our story,” whose grandfather, Taylor Sherman, for many years judge, died May 4th, 1815, in the ripeness of his manhood, at the age of fifty-eight.

The widow, like the families of Generals Grant and Mitchel, and of our most worthy President, turned her face toward the far West; for it was then a long and weary way to the rich valleys of the Mississippi and its tributaries. The beautiful State of Ohio—the empire State of the western world—became her home. The prospects, for her sons especially, on the cheap, rich soil, and in the rising towns of that vast and new territory, were much better than in New England.

The pleasant settlement of Lancaster was their first residence. Subsequently she removed to Mansfield, in the same State, where she died in 1848. Her children were Charles Robert, who was born September 26th, 1788, Daniel and Betsey. Charles married Mary Hoyt, May 8th, 1810, and settled in Lancaster. His profession was law, in which he excelled particularly as an advocate; he was very eloquent and successful in pleading the cause of his clients before the judge and jury.

In the year 1823 he was elected judge of the Superior Court of Ohio. He continued in this high position till June 20th, 1829. Could you have stood in the court room on that early summer day, you would have seen the fine intelligent face of the judge suddenly grow pale, followed by an expression of suffering. The eyes of the “gentlemen of the bar,” and of citizens present, are turned with anxious interest toward him. Soon after, he is compelled to leave the bench and remove to his private apartment, where he rapidly sinks into the embrace of death. His disease was supposed to be that fatal scourge of eastern lands and our own—the cholera. Probably my young reader was not born when it spread terror through nearly all the cities of our Union. In 1840 his remains were removed to Lancaster, Ohio. Should you become a western lawyer, you may have occasion to consult his decisions, contained in the first three volumes of the Ohio Reports.

This gifted, highly educated and popular judge left a widow with eleven children. She was a devoted wife and mother, and a communicant in the Presbyterian Church. Charles T., the eldest, is now a successful lawyer in Washington, D. C.; the next in order was Mary Elizabeth; the third, James; the fourth, Amelia; the fifth, Julia; and the sixth, William Tecumseh, our hero. After him were L. Parker, John, the able and loyal senator from Ohio, who was born May 10th, 1823; and after him were Susan D. Hoyt and Frances B.

William Tecumseh was born February 8th, 1820. It was quite difficult to decide upon a name for the boy. “What shall we call him?” was the topic of much domestic chat. Two or three favorite names were suggested and discussed, but still the child was nameless.

One day the father, who had seen the Indian chieftain Tecumseh, and admired that really great man, came in and said, “I have the name of a better man than either we have mentioned.” The eye and ear of those around the cradle were turned to know whom he could be. The bright boy only seemed to have no interest in the matter. “Tecumseh, we will name him,” was the almost startling announcement. It was softened down to the tone of civilized life by the addition of William. The further reason for the selection of a warrior’s name who fought for the English, I will tell you, as I did the story of “Ulysses S. Grant,” now his lieutenant-general, in the language of another who wrote me on the subject: “Tecumseh, the celebrated chief and warrior of the Shawanoese tribe, who was killed at the battle of the Thames, October 5th, 1813, was for a long time kept in rather fond remembrance in this immediate vicinity, by those who were engaged in that conflict, of whom Captain Sanderson is still a resident here; because they knew that several times he prevented the shedding of innocent blood. This fact, with the desire of Mr. Sherman to have one son educated for military life, led him to choose Tecumseh for the boy, he being born not long after the death of that chieftain.”

Tecumthé, or as it is written Tecumseh, a Shawanoese Indian, was born in Piqua, since called West Boston, on Mad River, in Clarke County, Ohio. Tecumseh’s grandmother was the daughter of a Southern English colonial governor, who fancied the handsome young Creek, and married him. Their only son took for his wife a Shawanese woman, who gave birth to Tecumseh while on a journey from the southern to the western hunting grounds. A few years later three more sons were born at the same time, one of whom, Tenskwautawaw, became the famous prophet who was the artful and unprincipled instrument of his brother, Tecumseh, in his great lifework, which was to arouse and unite the western tribes in the last determined effort to drive and keep their white neighbors from the valley of the Mississippi. While a boy, his splendid genius gave him the leadership among his playmates, and he “was in the habit of arranging them in parties for the purpose of fighting sham battles.”

When about fifteen years old, he was so shocked at the scene then common among the Indians—burning prisoners at the stake—that he determined to give his voice against the horrid custom. The young reformer first displayed his commanding eloquence in his bold condemnation of the practice, which through his powerful influence gradually disappeared. He advocated total abstinence from ardent spirits, the principal source of savage degradation and destruction, and urged his people to drop all superfluous ornaments, and abstain from the use of articles sold by the traders. Like his illustrious namesake, our hero, he was mighty in speech as well as in the battle-field. I will give in illustration a brief address made August 12th, 1810, to Governor Harrison, whom he met in council at Vincennes, on the Wabash River. The fine words and grand views of the warrior, will make you think of our own Tecumseh marching over the very country from which the ancestors of the Shawanoese came:

“I have made myself what I am; and I would that I could make the red people as great as the conceptions of my mind, when I think of the Great Spirit that rules over all. I would not then come to Governor Harrison to ask him to tear the treaty; but I would say to him, Brother, you have liberty to return to your own country. Once there was no white man in all this country; then it belonged to red men, children of the same parents, placed on it by the Great Spirit to keep it, to travel over it, to eat its fruits, and fill it with the same race—once a happy race, but now made miserable by the white people, who are never contented, but always encroaching. They have driven us from the great salt water, forced us over the mountains, and would shortly push us into the lakes; but we are determined to go no further. The only way to stop this evil is for all the red men to unite in claiming a common and equal right in the land, as it was at first and should be now—for it never was divided, and belongs to all. No tribe has a right to sell, even to each other, much less to strangers, who demand all, and will take no less. The white people have no right to take the land from the Indians, who had it first—it is theirs. They may sell, but all must join. Any sale not made by all is not good. The late sale is bad; it was made by a part only. Part do not know how to sell. It requires all to make a bargain for all.”

This upright, humane, and unequalled warrior, after struggling in vain to save his declining race, fell gloriously during the last war with England, in the battle of the Thames, not many miles from Detroit, on the Canada side.

His American namesake, by a singular course of providential events, as you know and will read in the record of his life more fully, became the greatest military commander of the age, in the very region from which, with his people, he emigrated to the West.

I will now take you to the place of William Tecumseh’s birth. Lancaster is in Fairfield County, Ohio, on the Hockhocking River, twenty-eight miles east of Columbus, the capital of the State. The valley is very beautiful. It was the home of the Wyandots less than a century ago, and was called Tarh or Crowtown, from the name of the principal chief. His wigwam was on the bank-border of a prairie, near a clear and living spring, from whose gushing waters he slaked his thirst for many years.

In 1800 a Mr. Fane laid out Lancaster on Mount Pleasant, called by the Indians, who at that time still lingered there, “Standing-Stone,” because the summit was formed of masses of sandstone. It was a place of popular resort on account of the extensive and magnificent views of the surrounding country. Duke Saxe Weimar, who travelled in this country about forty years since, carved his name on its rock.

For several years after Lancaster was settled, the people had a curious regulation, of which I must tell you, and something like which would not be a bad arrangement at the present day. Stumps of the forest trees so lately there, were scattered along the streets; and when a man was caught intoxicated, the penalty was, the removal of a stump. The drunkards and the stumps both were thinned out; for whenever a citizen went staggering among the remnants of the primeval woods, he was watched till sober enough to go to work, then set to digging at the roots. Tipplers were careful to walk abroad in straight lines; and if one failed to keep within the limits of temperate drinking, he must take good exercise at the stump, which was both a public exposure and a blessing to the village.

Lancaster is now a handsome city, full of western activity, and keeping step to the music—

“Westward the star of empire takes its way.”

Such was and is the birthplace of William Tecumseh Sherman.

WILLIAM TECUMSEH IN THE SAND BANK.

CHAPTER II.

The Eventful Call—“Cump” in the Sandbank—The Unexpected Summons—He obeys—His new Home—School days—A Studious and Reliable Boy—Is appointed Cadet—Leaves Home for West Point—His Life in the Academy—Graduates and goes to Florida.

“

OTHER, may I go and play in the sand?” said a bright boy one day, cap in hand, ready to bound into the open air. Almost before the expected “yes” had ceased to echo in the room, “Cump,” as he was familiarly called, hastened to a bank in which excavations had been made, and the sand taken away. He was soon “busy as a bee,” throwing up miniature fortifications and heaps in various forms, after the models of his own juvenile invention.

Meanwhile the distinguished Hon. Thomas Ewing, now the venerable representative of the statesmen of the past, a resident of Lancaster, entered the widowed mother’s dwelling. He knew that the benevolent and departed father had not left her large family a fortune. It would therefore be no easy task to educate and start them in the world. And his errand there was to ask her to commit one of the boys to his home and care. He said, with a playful earnestness, “I must have the smartest of the lot; I will take no other, and you must select him for me.” After a short consultation between the mother and eldest daughter, the choice fell upon “Cump.” So it was decided that Mr. Ewing should take him to his house and educate him with his own children.

Leaving the mother and sister saddened with the prospect of parting with the boy, he went to the sandbank, where we just now left William at play. “Come, my boy,” said the unexpected visitor, “you are going to live with me. I have seen your mother; she has given her consent.”

The astonished little worker listened, and looked a moment at his benefactor, then straightened up, brushed off the sand, and started after him. That night he went to his bed in his new and beautiful home with strange thoughts, and a shadow upon his young spirit. He had left mother and the home of his childhood for life; only as an occasional visitor. It was a crisis in his history, and one which decided in the result his brilliant martial career. The public schools, which are now the pride of our land, were not then known in Ohio. But Lancaster could boast a good academy, and into its English department Tecumseh was entered as a pupil. He had reached his ninth year, and soon convinced his teacher and companions that he could take a high rank among the boy-students of his age.

Mr. Ewing assured me that there was nothing remarkable or eccentric in his experience during the years that followed, excepting his executive ability in little matters of business committed to him. He “never knew so young a boy who would do an errand so correctly and promptly as he did. He was transparently honest, faithful, and reliable. Studious and correct in his habits, his progress in education was steady and substantial.” At the age of sixteen, Mr. Ewing, in his official position, had at his disposal the appointment of a cadet to the Military Academy at West Point, and determined to offer it to his “protégé.” Tecumseh had a taste for military life, and of course gladly accepted the honor.

Before we follow him to that institution we will take another glimpse of the home of his adoption. Mrs. Ewing was a highly intelligent lady, a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and had the privilege of educating her children in her own faith. Her daughter Ellen was at this time an attractive girl of nearly the same age of Tecumseh. For half a dozen of life’s most careless, happy years, they had been to school, talked and played together. And it is not strange that among the friends he left behind him, when he turned the second time from home, and now for a distant abode among strangers, that to part with her should be no common trial for his young and manly heart. But he had entered for himself

“Upon life’s broad field of battle,”

and hastened to the ordeal of examination for admission to the academy. The bright day of trial has come. Look in upon the spacious hall where the Examining Board and distinguished visitors have gathered, to see and hear what the young candidates for freshman honors may know. Now listen; young Sherman’s name is called. He is modest, yet perfectly self-possessed. After answering a test question with remarkable propriety and dignity, a professor remarked: “He is a blooded fellow!” that is, he was of good blood—had the ingrained qualities of manliness, and the promise of honorable distinction. This was in the summer of 1836. He advanced from class to class, mastering the studies in the course, and maintaining a high reputation in all his relations to the officers and students of the academy. He was quite at home in artillery, which you know is the handling of heavy guns; and in the saddle at the riding school of the institution. He graduated fifth in his class June 30th, 1840. The rebel General Beauregard was a classmate.

You have learned that, as a man, he loses no time in his military movements. Created second lieutenant in the Third Artillery, he repaired to Florida in the service of the regular army. When the autumnal leaves rustled in the war-path, he was fairly in the ranks and under the old flag, which he was destined to honor so well, and with whose stars his name would shine while it floats over the land of his birth.

CHAPTER III.

The Lieutenant in the Florida War—Its Origin—The “Exiles”—Seminole Indians—Osceola—His wife made prisoner—The second Seminole War—Wild Cat’s Daughter—Peace—Lessons of the events before and after.

HEN Lieutenant Sherman reached the Southern peninsula, our war with the “exiles” and Seminoles had been in progress about five years. “Who were the ‘exiles?’ ” you ask. In answering that question I shall give you some account of the Florida wars, in which many of our West Point graduates have been actors; among them Generals Grant, Mitchel, and Sherman. And I shall let a distinguished statesmen, who has recently died,[^[1]] and who wrote a book about the “exiles,” tell you some interesting things concerning these people.

“Florida was originally settled by Spaniards in 1558. They were the first people to engage in the African slave trade, and sought to supply other nations with servants from the coast of Guinea. The colonists held many slaves, expecting to accumulate wealth by the unrequited toil of their fellow-men.

“Carolina, by her first and second charters, claimed a vast extent of country, embracing St. Augustine and most of Florida. Here was the first occasion for hostilities, the conflicting claims to jurisdiction, of the Spaniards and the colonies. The Carolinians also held many slaves. Profiting by the labor of their servants, the people sought to increase their wealth by enslaving the Indians who resided in their vicinity. Hence in the early slave codes of that colony we find reference to ‘negro and other slaves.’

“When the boundaries of Florida and South Carolina became established, the colonists found themselves separated by the territory now constituting the State of Georgia, at that time mostly occupied by the Creek Indians. The efforts of the Carolinians to enslave the Indians brought with them the natural and appropriate penalties. The Indians soon began to make their escape from service to the Indian country. This example was soon followed by the African slaves, who also fled to the Indian country, and, in order to secure themselves from pursuit, continued their journey into Florida.

“We are unable to fix the precise time when the persons thus exiled constituted a separate community. Their numbers had become so great in 1736 that they were formed into companies, and relied on by the Floridians as allies to aid in the defence of that territory. They were also permitted to occupy lands upon the same terms that were granted to the citizens of Spain; indeed, they in all respects became free subjects of the Spanish crown. Probably to this early and steady policy of the Spanish Government, we may attribute the establishment and continuance of this community of ‘exiles’ in that territory. A messenger was sent by the Colonial Government of South Carolina to demand the return of those fugitive slaves who had found an asylum in Florida. The demand was made upon the Governor of St. Augustine, but was promptly rejected. This was the commencement of a controversy which has continued for more than a century, involving our nation in a vast expenditure of blood and treasure, and it yet remains undetermined. The constant escape of slaves, and the difficulties resulting therefrom, constituted the principal object for establishing a free colony between South Carolina and Florida, which was called Georgia. It was thought that this colony, being free, could afford the planters of Carolina protection against the further escape of their slaves from service. These ‘exiles’ were by the Creek Indians called ‘Seminoles,’ which in their dialect signifies ‘runaways,’ and the term being frequently used while conversing with the Indians, came into almost constant practice among the whites; and although it has now come to be applied to a certain tribe of Indians, yet it was originally used in reference to these ‘exiles’ long before the Seminole Indians had separated from the Creeks.”

These “exiles,” once slaves, had settled in rich valleys, and had their flocks, and herds, and children around them. The great State of Georgia did not like to see this paradise of escaped bondmen prosper. Indeed, she looked with covetous eye upon every foot of Indian territory within her limits, and seems to have early decided, with or without the national sanction and help, to take possession of the “exiles,” and of the lands belonging to the Aborigines. The first thing was to get Florida from Spain, then seize the “exiles.”

Such influences were brought to bear upon Congress, that in secret session a law was passed in 1811 to wrest the territory from the authority of Spain. And now commenced the invasion of that country by the most desperate men. It was like the outrage upon “bleeding Kansas” since.

The Seminoles had refused to surrender the “exiles,” and the Georgians determined to exterminate them. This injustice and cruelty opened the first war with the Seminoles. Hostilities continued for many years, attended with deeds of savage heroism, scenes of horror and of death, till many an American soldier found a grave in the gloomy everglade and dark river channel. At length there was a pause in the terrible border warfare. Outrages by the white people continued, “exiles” were captured, treaties broken, and the effort renewed to remove the Seminoles to the western territory. Upon a certain day when a consultation was held over a speech addressed by the Secretary of State, General Cass, urging emigration, a youthful warrior, named “Osceola,” since very famous, drew his burnished knife from his belt, and said, while striking it into the table before him, “This is the only treaty I will ever make with the whites.” It was a threat of war again, soon realized. He was the son of an Indian trader, a white man named Powell. His mother was the daughter of a Seminole chief. He had recently married a woman said to have been very “beautiful.” She was the daughter of a chief who had married one of the “exiles,” but as all colored people, by slaveholding laws, are said to follow the condition of the mother, she was called an African slave. Osceola was proud of his ancestry. He hated slavery, and those who practised the holding of slaves, with a bitterness that is but little understood by those who have never witnessed its revolting crimes. He visited Fort King in company with his wife and a few friends, for the purpose of trading. Mr. Thompson, the agent, was present, and while engaged in business, the wife of Osceola was seized as a slave. Evidently having negro blood in her veins, the law pronounced her a slave; and, as no other person could show title to her, the pirate who had got possession of her body, was supposed, of course, to be her owner. Osceola became frantic with rage, but was instantly seized and placed in irons, while his wife was hurried away to slaveholding pollution. He remained six days in irons, when, General Thompson says, he became penitent, and was released. From the moment when this outrage was committed, the Florida War may be regarded as commenced. Osceola swore vengeance upon Thompson, and those who assisted in the perpetration of this indignity upon himself, as well as upon his wife, and upon our common humanity. The “exiles” endeavored to stimulate the Indians to deeds of valor. In general council they decreed that the first Seminole who should make any movement preparatory to emigration, should suffer death. Charley E. Mathlu, a respected chief, soon after fell a victim to this decree. Osceola commanded the party who slew him. He had sold a portion of his cattle to the whites, for which he had received pay in gold. This money was found upon his person when he fell. Osceola forbade any one touching the gold, saying it was the price of the red man’s blood, and with his own hands he scattered it in different directions as far as he was able to throw it. But his chief object appeared to have been the death of General Thompson. Other Indians and “exiles” were preparing for other important operations, but Osceola seemed intent—his whole soul was absorbed in devising some plan by which he could safely reach Mr. Thompson, who was the object of his vengeance. He, or some of his friends, kept constant watch on the movements of Thompson, who was unconscious of the danger to which he was exposed. Osceola, steady to his purpose, refused to be diverted from this favorite object. Thompson was at Fort King, and there were but few troops to protect that fortress. But Indians seldom attempt an escalade, and Osceola sought an opportunity to take it by surprise. With some twenty followers he lay secreted near the fort for days and weeks, determined to find some opportunity to enter by the open gate, when the troops should be off their guard. Near the close of December, 1835, a runner brought him information that Major Dade, with his command, was to leave Fort Brooke on the twenty-fifth of that month, and that those who intended to share in the attack upon that regiment, must be at the great “Wahoo Swamp” by the evening of the twenty-seventh. This had no effect whatever upon Osceola. No circumstance could withdraw him from the bloody purpose which filled his soul.

“On the twenty-eighth, in the afternoon, as he and his followers lay near the road leading from the fort to the house of the sutler, which was nearly a mile distant, they saw Mr. Thompson and a friend approaching. That gentleman and his companions had dined, and, on taking their cigars, he and Lieutenant Smith, of the second artillery, had sallied forth for a walk and to enjoy conversation by themselves. At a signal given by Osceola, the Indians fired. Thompson fell pierced by fourteen balls; Smith received about as many. The shrill war-whoop followed the sound of the rifles, and alarmed the people at the fort. The Indians immediately scalped their victims, and then hastened to the house where Mr. Rogers, the sutler, and two clerks, were at dinner. These three persons were instantly massacred and scalped. The Indians took as many valuable goods as they could carry, and set fire to the building. The smoke gave notice to those in the fort of the fate that had befallen the sutler and his clerks. But the condition in which the commandant found his troops forbade his sending out any considerable force to ascertain the fate of Thompson and his companion. Near nightfall a few daring spirits proceeded up the road to the hommock, and brought the bodies to the fort, but Osceola and his followers had hastened their flight, not from fear of the troops, but with the hope of joining their companions at Wahoo in time to engage in scenes of more general interest.”

The election campaign for President occurred the very fall Lieutenant Sherman went to Florida. Martin Van Buren was defeated, and there was no greater cause of it than the continuance of the Florida war, wasting precious life and treasure. You will be interested in the story of Wild Cat’s daughter. He was the son of King Philip, a Seminole chief, and became himself one of the mighty leaders in the Indian struggle for existence. Not far from the time young Sherman went to the field of conflict, the daughter of Wild Cat, “an interesting girl of twelve years of age, fell into the hands of our troops in a skirmish near Fort Mellon. This was regarded as a most fortunate circumstance, as it would be likely to procure an interview with the father. Miceo, a sub-chief and friend of Wild Cat, was despatched with a white flag, on which were drawn clasped hands in token of friendship, with a pipe and tobacco. He found Wild Cat, and delivered the message of the commanding-general, requesting an interview. Wild Cat agreed to come in, and gave Miceo a bundle of sticks, denoting the days which would elapse before he appeared in camp. Miceo returned and made his report.

“On the fifth of March Wild Cat was announced as approaching the American camp with seven of his trusty companions. He came boldly within the line of sentinels, dressed in the most fantastic manner. He and his party had shortly before killed a company of strolling theatrical performers, near St. Augustine, and having possessed themselves of the wardrobe of their victims, put it on. He approached the tent of General Worth, calm and self-possessed, and shook hands with the officers. He then addressed the general without hesitation and with dignity, saying he had received the talk and white flag sent him. He had come according to invitation to visit the American camp with peaceful intentions, relying upon his good faith.

“At this moment his little daughter escaped from the tent where she was to remain till General Worth should think the proper time to present her to her father had come. With the feelings and habits of her race, she gave him musket balls and powder which she had managed to obtain and secret until his arrival. On seeing his child he could no longer command that dignity of bearing so much the pride of every Indian chief. His self-possession gave way to parental emotions; the feelings of the father gushed forth; he averted his face and wept.

“Having recovered his self-possession he addressed General Worth, saying: ‘The whites dealt unjustly by me. I came to them, when they deceived me. I loved the land I was upon; my body is made of its sands. The Great Spirit gave me legs to walk over it; eyes to see it; hands to aid myself; a head with which I think. The sun, which shines warm and bright, brings forth our crops; and the moon brings back the spirits of our warriors, our fathers, our wives and children. The white man comes; he grows pale and sickly; why can we not live in peace? They steal our horses and cattle, cheat us, and take our lands. They may shoot us—may chain our hands and feet, but the red man’s heart will be free. I have come to you in peace, and have taken you all by the hand. I will sleep in your camp, though your soldiers stand around me thick as pine trees. I am done: when we know each other better, I will say more.’

“During the interview, Wild Cat spoke with great sincerity; frankly stated the condition and feelings of his people; stated the friendly attachment between the ‘exiles’ and Indians; said that they would not consent to be separated; that nothing could be done until their annual assemblage in June, to feast on the green corn; that, hard as the fate was, he would consent to emigrate, and would use his influence to induce his friends to do so. After remaining four days in camp, he and his companions left, accompanied by his little daughter, whom he presented to her mother on reaching his own encampment.”

Young Sherman was created first lieutenant November, 1841, and soon after the war closed, followed by the removal of the “exiles” to the country beyond the State of Arkansas, joining the Creeks there.

There are two very interesting facts you will think of in this glimpse of the early experience of our cadet-soldier. The first is, the real beginning of the great rebellion, in the unjust and oppressive claims of the Southern States upon other races, and upon our national legislation. The other curious fact is the awful desolation of that leading State in this wrong, Georgia, by the lieutenant, more than a score of years afterwards, in the defence of our own imperilled liberties.

CHAPTER IV.

Lieutenant Sherman in Fort Moultrie—The Fortress—The Mexican War—He goes to California—His Service there—Appointed Captain—His Marriage—Exciting Scenes in California—In the Commissary Department—Resigns his Commission—Turns Banker.

IEUTENANT SHERMAN was next ordered to Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan’s Island, in Charleston harbor. Do you know the origin of that fortress and of its name? Six days before the Declaration of Independence was signed, there was a memorable battle and victory here, over the British squadron commanded by Sir Peter Parker. A post had been commenced, which, upon the appearance of the fleet was hastily completed, under the command of General Moultrie, a very brave officer.

General Charles Lee, the commander-in-chief at this post, urged Moultrie to abandon the works, because the men-of-war would soon blow them to pieces. “Then we will fight behind the ruins,” said the gallant leader of a band, who answered his bold words with a “hurrah!” The battle opened, and soon the American flag, which was then a white crescent on a ground of blue, went down. The spectators at a distance thought the post had surrendered. But no—the flag-staff was shot off, and Sergeant William Jasper leaped through the embrasure of the wall, and seizing it, restored it to its place on the battlements. He was a young hero, and his name is among those of the daring defenders of the first banner of the Revolution.

In this fortress Lieutenant Sherman had an unexciting round of duty. But more active service was near. If you will turn to the map of the United States you will see that the boundary between Texas and Mexico on the south, runs northwesterly toward the Pacific Ocean, where lies California, bounded on the southern side by Mexico. When war followed the dispute between the United States and the Mexican Government about the dividing line, in 1846, it was necessary to have troops in California. With the forces sent to that new and thinly-settled region, Lieutenant Sherman went under the banner he loved with all the enthusiasm of his ardent nature. The fighting was principally done, you know, at Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Monterey, Molino del Rey, and a few other points far from the post of Sherman. But he did his duty in the ranks of the frontier-guard, and was off on recruiting service when those fierce battles were fought.

California had been for many years under the Government of Mexico. The people rebelled against Santa Anna, asserted their independence, but again submitted to the old authority. In 1842 its rich plains attracted emigration from all lands, which increased rapidly till war with Mexico was declared. General Fremont was there. A quarrel began between the Mexican people and the settlers. This was increased by the conflict of the two nations, which resulted in our establishing a territorial government. The whole was ceded to the United States at the close of the war for $15,000,000, and became a State in 1850. With the flood of population from many countries, before and after Lieutenant Sherman went there, lawlessness of all kinds prevailed. Gambling was a common business, incendiarism equally so, and justice was almost unknown, even in the Government. Men were shot in open day for giving offence; the people became alarmed, and appointed a vigilance committee, who took law into their own hands. Our still youthful officer opposed such assumption of power, believing in redress for wrongs through the constitutional remedies. And often since the civil war commenced has he beguiled the weary hours of camp-life by recounting the exciting scenes of those wild days of California life. He saw a calmer period of history there. The vigilance committee at length surrendered its power to the State Government, and California has taken her place among the noblest of our commonwealths, loyal to the flag in the darkest hour of strife.

California gold! You have heard of the mania for the mines it created all over our land when the boy now sixteen was in his cradle. But you may not know what a chance to make a fortune Lieutenant Sherman had in that territory—that he saw the small beginning of the excitement. He was dining, February 8th, 1848, with Captain Sutter, of Sacramento, who was building a saw-mill. The workmen opened a sluice to wash out the “tail-race,” when lo! there was gold in the sand. A specimen was brought into the room where the officers sat, and pronounced to be the precious particles, which have since attracted the fortune-hunters of every land under the sun. But the lieutenant quietly returned to his post, and left to others the great discovery.

The rough experiences in southern and western forests—watching the stealthy Indians, and riding through perilous and difficult paths—were fitting him for work which would attract the admiring interest of the world. So well did he improve his opportunities to serve his country and perfect himself in military science, that his farther promotion to a captaincy was ordered while on the Pacific coast. The war closed in the winter of 1848, and the treaty of peace was signed in February of that year. The life of a “regular” in the army became monotonous. Garrisons and surveys occupied the troops. But there came, two years later, an interesting change in the social relations of Captain Sherman.

The friend he left with so much regret when he bade adieu to Lancaster, Ohio, for a home at West Point, Miss Ellen B. Ewing, attracted the gallant young soldier’s steps from the round of martial duty. In the spring of 1850 he led her to the altar of marriage, in Washington, D. C., where the bride’s father, the Hon. Thomas Ewing, has spent much of his long life in Congress, and in the Cabinet. Two of the greatest statesmen in this or any other nation, Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, were guests on the occasion, also General Zachary Taylor. Not many weddings in the Republic can boast of so many distinguished persons among the spectators of the ceremonies, offering their congratulations to the happy pair.

Captain Sherman was for a period connected with the Commissary Department of the Army. Its duties are the furnishing of the various supplies for the troops. Tired of the quiet and tameness of the service, in 1853 he resigned his commission, and retired to private life. That well-known and wealthy citizen of St. Louis, Mr. Lucas, proposed to establish a banking-house in San Francisco, under the name of “Lucas, Turner & Co.,” at the head of which was placed Captain Sherman.

We have come to a singular turn in his history. The cadet has been from the Florida swamps to the mountains of the northern border, rising in position, and steadily, honorably pursuing the object immediately before him, till tired of an almost useless existence, as it seems, in the army, he is at length a gentlemanly banker in the principal city of the “golden coast.” Days, weeks, months, and years, find him in the comparatively quiet round of business affairs. He is at home in the material condition and politics of the country; for he is familiar always with the current events of the times. The faithful boy at errands, is the trusty soldier and banker also. No stain rests on the record of his success in life.

CHAPTER V.

Takes charge of a Military Academy in Alexandria, Louisiana—He sees the rising storm of Civil War—Resigns—A noble Letter—He repairs to St. Louis, and superintends a Street Railroad.

APTAIN SHERMAN, of the house of Lucas, Turner & Co., was not unsuccessful in the banking-office; but it was not suited to his culture and taste, and he was without large capital. It is not strange, therefore, that when, in 1860, he was offered the presidency of the Louisiana State Military Academy at Alexandria, on a salary of five thousand dollars per annum, he should accept the honorable position.

You know that, besides the national institution for discipline in the art of war, there are smaller schools of a similar character in several of the States, besides private enterprises of great merit. The Academy at Alexandria was organized in 1860, and, intended to accommodate two hundred cadets. Whether the State had reference to the possibility of a collision with the Government in this preparatory work we do not know, but are sure that the chief officer had no thought of serving the cause of revolt in taking its management. The town is situated on the Red River, nearly in the centre of the State, three hundred and fifty miles from New Orleans, which lies southeast of it, and down the Mississippi.

Louisiana is a great cotton-growing State, and Alexandria is in one of the richest portions of the wide plains skirting the stream which poured its flood into the magnificent tide of the “Father of Waters.” It is beautifully situated in the midst of cotton plantations, which, like snow-fields in summer, spread away in every direction from the village. Here the professor was directing his genius and attainments to carry out the wishes of the founders of the school, when the first ominous sounds of rebellion followed the election of Abraham Lincoln.

He knew the Southern feeling well. The intercourse with the people of the cotton States, from the association at West Point with their sons to that hour, convinced him of what we at the North were slow to believe, that they were determined to have their own way or fight. His clear judgment and forecast caught the signal of revolution in the stormy councils and secession resolutions which succeeded the political revolution. The evil spirit of rebellion was in the very atmosphere about him. There was hot blood, even in the recitation-rooms of the Academy. The year 1860 closed over a purpose which had slowly but steadily matured, to leave the institution in which he had just begun to feel at home, and was fully qualified to manage. It had cost him anxious thought. But far in advance, as he has been ever since, in his views of the true issue—the men and the measures we must meet—he was sure a sanguinary struggle was at hand. It saddened his heart, but nerved his strong hand to grasp the starry banner and enter the arena of carnage and victory.

Thus decided in his convictions and loyalty, he did not wait for the thunder of cannon around Fort Sumter. He wrote the following manly, strong, and patriotic letter, which tells its own glorious story:

“January 18, 1861.

“Gov. Thomas O. Moore, Baton Rouge, La.

“Sir:—As I occupy a quasi-military position under this State, I deem it proper to acquaint you that I accepted such position when Louisiana was a State in the Union, and when the motto of the seminary was inserted in marble over the main door, ‘By the liberality of the General Government of the United States: The Union—Esto Perpètua.’

“Recent events foreshadow a great change, and it becomes all men to choose. If Louisiana withdraws from the Federal Union, I prefer to maintain my allegiance to the old Constitution as long as a fragment of it survives, and my longer stay here would be wrong in every sense of the word. In that event, I beg you will send or appoint some authorized agent to take charge of the arms and munitions of war here belonging to the State, or direct me what disposition should be made of them.

“And furthermore, as President of the Board of Supervisors, I beg you to take immediate steps to relieve me as superintendent the moment the State determines to secede; for on no earthly account will I do any act, or think any thought, hostile to or in defiance of the old Government of the United States.

“With great respect, &c.,

“(Signed) W. T. Sherman.”

What a scorching rebuke is that in the first paragraph! How sublimely loyal the sentiments of the last!

The resignation was accepted. The professor turned his back upon his cadets and upon Louisiana, till he shall return under the torn and blackened flag of conquest. Repairing to St. Louis, he had no employment for his brain or hands. But he was ready for any honest work. Mr. Lucas, one of the millionaires of the city, offered him the office of superintendent of a street railroad, on a salary of two thousand dollars a year. He at once entered upon its duties, without a regret that he had abandoned the halls of military science and a larger reward for his labor.

My young reader, it is a lesson for all ages and all times. Embrace the providential openings for reputable and useful labor, without regard to the present applause or the favor of the busy multitude about you. Think of the brave Captain—the educated instructor—managing the affairs of a city horse-railway! Then think of the host of young men, who would rather starve, or gamble, to keep up the appearance of wealth and position, rather than go down in the world’s estimate of what is respectable and fashionable, and you will admire the truly heroic character of the gifted Sherman.

CHAPTER VI.

Sumter falls—Sherman repairs to Washington—His Interview with the Secretary of War and the President—His Prophetic Insight of the Threatening Times—The state of the Country—Rebel Expectations.

HE traitorous Secretary of War, John B. Floyd, had not lost sight of the probable uprising of the South at no distant period, for a moment, during all of his official career. Every fort on her soil was made an easy prey to her rebellious hand by reducing their garrisons.

The magnificent Fortress Monroe, on which the United States had expended nearly two and a half millions, could muster only eight companies of artillery. The forts, Moultrie, Pinckney, and Sumter, of Charleston harbor, had only eighty men, who were in Fort Moultrie.

And yet, had you been in the Halls of Congress when Mr. Clarke, of New Hampshire, offered a resolution of inquiry into the condition of those defences, you would have heard a storm of apparently virtuous indignation from Jefferson Davis and his fellow-conspirators, as if the intimation of treachery were an insult to Southern chivalry.

A week later General Anderson and his band, loyal to the national banner, having become assured that their capture with Fort Moultrie was designed, after destroying its equipment as far as possible, stole at dead of night from its walls and floated over the waters to silent Sumter, whose massive battlements promised a safer refuge from the passions of infatuated men. The rebels immediately seized Forts Moultrie and Pinckney; and ten days later the Star of the West, an unarmed steamer conveying a reënforcement of two hundred and fifty soldiers and supplies for the destitute garrison, was fired upon from newly-erected earthworks.

The spring came with flowers and birds, but the angry storm of rebellion beat around Sumter with increasing fury. Iron-clad batteries had risen on every hand to cut off the approach of our ships, and grim ordnance now pointed toward the old fortress.

April 12th a messenger approached it with a very brief message to Major Anderson; it was, “Surrender!” The reply was nearly as short: “His sense of honor and his obligations to the Government would prevent compliance.”

A few hours after, and “boom! boom!” was the sound, followed with shot and shell, against Sumter’s walls, which opened a bloody civil war. In the iron hail the fort was scarred, and its ground covered with exploding shells. At length the band, one-third the number of the famous warriors at Thermopylæ, against ten thousand, saw the hopelessness of resistance, and made honorable terms to themselves, of surrender. Every telegraphic wire in the land, North and South, trembled to the tidings of the battle hour.

The Hon. Thomas Ewing wrote Charles Taylor Sherman, of Washington, the brother of William Tecumseh, to use his influence to get the latter again into the army. He felt that he was, and would be needed. The intelligent, patriotic mind of the captain did not require light for action, but only opportunity.

Our railroad superintendent at St. Louis thought that all observant people must see that a terrible conflict had begun, and like Grant in Galena, left his office to offer his services to the Government, and his life, if that should be the sacrifice, included in their acceptance. He hastened to the nation’s capital. Soon after reaching Washington he called on Secretary Cameron.

“Mr. Secretary, civil war is imminent, and we are unprepared for it. I have come to offer my services to the country in the struggle before us.”

“I think,” replies Mr. Cameron, “the ebullition of feeling will soon subside, we shall not need many troops.”

Indeed the Secretary was quite surprised, if not annoyed, at the earnestness of Captain Sherman. He next sought an interview with the President, and made a similar statement and offer to him. The good President was inclined to take the whole thing as a joke. After listening to the serious enthusiasm expressed in the strong appeal, he replied, pleasantly: “We shall not need many more like you; the whole affair will soon blow over.”

He left the Chief Magistrate of a republic whose very existence he knew was assailed, with a shadow of disappointment on his brave, loyal spirit—not for himself, but for the cause near his heart. Friends then advised him to go to Ohio and superintend the organization of three months’ men there. He declared “it would be as wise to undertake to extinguish the flames of a burning building with a squirt gun, as to put down the rebellion with three months’ troops.”

To talk of any thing less than a gigantic war was to him absurd. But he was then nearly alone in his just estimate of the struggle.

CHAPTER VII.

The Conflict Deepens—The Captain is made Colonel of the Thirteenth New York Volunteers—The Battle of Bull Run—The unterrified Commander of the Thirteenth and his Troops—The Brave Stand.

NSTEAD of “blowing over,” the storm of rebellion grew darker, and extended toward every point of the horizon. The appointment of Captain Sherman to an important command was discussed and urged by those who knew him. And what do you think he said? You recollect our Lieutenant-General, when he asked the privilege of serving his country, declined a generalship because too modest to aspire to its honors. The lamented Major-General Mitchel desired any place, however humble, where he might defend the Stars and Stripes. And said the gallant Sherman: “I do not wish a prominent place; this is to be a long and bloody war.”

Real ability to achieve, and moral worth, are never boastful and impatient to astonish the people. Even the great rebel General Lee, in a letter recently published, urges the same unassuming, calm performance of present duty upon his son: quoting as an illustration the “old Puritan,” who in the early period of our legislation, when the day suddenly became outwardly dark, as if the sun had disappeared from the heavens, causing a pause of alarm, some fearing the judgment-day was at hand, called for a light, saying he wished to proceed to business, and be found at his post of duty when the final catastrophe came. This is good counsel for us all, though from a rebel’s pen.

General McDowell, who was then one of our most popular commanders, seems to have had a just appreciation of Sherman. He wanted his services; and on the 13th of June, 1861, offered him the colonelcy of the Thirteenth Infantry in the regular army, the command dating May 14th of that year.

A month of preparation for the field passed, and the first great meeting of the opposing armies summoned him to the war-path. July 16th, General McDowell, with thirty-two thousand five hundred men, moved in four divisions upon Manassas, through which lay the route to Richmond, the capital of Virginia and of the Confederacy. From Arlington Heights, Long Bridge, and Alexandria, the troops marched proudly forward, anticipating an early victory.

Never before, my young reader, did a large army go to the plain of carnage with hearts so light and gay—“as if on a pic-nic excursion.” It was a splendid, and to most of the troops a novel spectacle, that march upon the “sacred soil” of the “Old Dominion,” to the animating notes of “The Star Spangled Banner” and other national airs. July 21st, the Sabbath day, the signals of battle were seen in our lines, regardless of the hallowed time, and confident of an almost bloodless conquest.

Colonel Bowman, one of General Sherman’s officers since, and a faithful friend, has given a clear and unvarnished story of his part in the affray:

“The enemy had planted a battery on Warrenton turnpike, to command the passage of Bull Run, and seized the stone bridge which crossed it, erecting a heavy abatis to prevent our advance in that direction. The object of the battle was to force this position, with a view to subsequent operations beyond. The army engaged was commanded by Brigadier-General McDowell. The fourth division was left in the rear. The first, second, third, and fifth were commanded respectively by Brigadier-General Tyler, and Colonels Hunter, Heintzelman, and Miles. In the plan of battle, Miles was to be in reserve on the Centreville Ridge; Tyler was to advance directly in front of Stone Bridge, on the Warrenton road, and cannonade the enemy’s batteries; Hunter and Heintzelman were to move to the right and cross the run above, and get to the enemy’s rear. Colonel Sherman commanded the third brigade in Tyler’s (first) division, consisting of troops since renowned for gallantry—Captain Ayres’ Regular Battery, the Thirteenth, Sixty-ninth, and Seventy-ninth New York, and Second Wisconsin infantry.

“The advance was commenced on the morning of the 21st, and a part of Hunter’s and Heintzelman’s divisions, according to McDowell’s official report, ‘forced the enemy back far enough to allow Sherman’s and Keyes’s brigades of Tyler’s division to cross from their position on the Warrenton road. These drove the right of the enemy, understood to have been commanded by Beauregard, from the front of the field, and out of the detached woods, and down the road, and across it, up the slopes, on the other side.’ Pressing on, these two brigades, with the two divisions on the right, came upon an elevated ridge or table of land. Here was the severest fighting of the famous battle. Sherman led his brigade directly up the Warrenton road, and held his ground till the general order came to retreat. It will be the verdict of history that the fighting at Bull Run was no more disgraceful to us than the unsuccessful fighting of the French at Waterloo. It was the disorganized rout after the day was done that showed that our army was as yet but an undisciplined rabble. The day was lost partly by the delay in attack, but chiefly by the arrival of reënforcements under Johnston, when victory was already in our hands. General Patterson was the Grouchy of our Waterloo.

“One fact in the battle has hitherto escaped comment. The orders of Tyler’s division were to cross Bull Run, when possible, and join Hunter on the right. This was done, Sherman leading off, with the Sixty-ninth New York in advance, and encountering a party of the enemy retreating along a cluster of pines. Lieutenant-Colonel Haggerty, of the Sixty-ninth, without orders, rode over to intercept their retreat, and was shot dead by the enemy. Furious at his loss, the Sixty-ninth sprang forward and opened fire, which was returned. ‘But,’ says Sherman, ‘determined to effect our junction with Hunter’s division, I ordered the fire to cease, and we proceeded with caution toward the field, where we then plainly saw our forces engaged.’ Turning to Colonel Burnside’s official report, we shall find that he was at this time overwhelmingly pressed by the enemy. It was a critical juncture. At length Major Sykes’s battalion of regulars came up, and staggered the enemy, and at the same moment Sherman came marching over the hill. ‘It was Sherman’s brigade,’ says Burnside, ‘that arrived at about twelve and a half o’clock, and by a most deadly fire assisted in breaking the enemy’s lines.’ So much for soldierly promptness and strict obedience to orders. From the vigor with which Sherman fought his brigade, the loss in his four regiments was one hundred and five killed, two hundred and two wounded, two hundred and ninety-three wounded or missing, with six killed and three wounded in the battery, making a total of six hundred and nine, the whole division losing eight hundred and fifty-nine. The loss of the army, excluding prisoners and stragglers, was computed thus: killed, four hundred and seventy-nine; wounded, eleven hundred and eleven; total killed and wounded, fifteen hundred and ninety. When the conduct of Sherman had become known, the Ohio delegation in Congress unanimously urged his immediate promotion. This was easily effected, and on the 3d of August, 1861, he was confirmed a brigadier-general of volunteers.”

Colonel Sherman’s brigade was the only one which retired from the field in order, making a stand at the bridge on the track to Washington, to dispute bravely “the right of way,” should the enemy pursue our panic-stricken forces toward the capital.

CHAPTER VIII.

General Sherman goes to Kentucky—Muldraugh’s Hill—His army weakened—General Buckner’s superior force—Succeeds General Anderson—Writes General McClellan—Interview with Secretary Cameron—Paducah.

WAY on the borders of Kentucky the tramp of war was heard. The hero of Sumter, General Anderson, was in command of the department. With the advent of autumn, the Union Home Guards of Kentucky, with other troops, had gathered to the banks of the Rolling Fork of Salt River—a branch two hundred feet wide and only three feet deep. Two miles from the road crossing lie the Muldraugh’s Hills, rising in romantic outline. Half way upon the ascent runs the railroad, whose bridge is trestle-work ninety feet high; it then enters Tunnel Hill, emerging into an open plain.

General Buckner, the rebel commander, was at Bowling Green, looking toward Louisville, where he boasted he would spend the winter. General Sherman was sent to join General Anderson, the second in command, and moved his force to Muldraugh’s Hills. Buckner had burned the bridge; the Home Guards were withdrawn; and the enemy’s troops numbered twenty-five thousand. To retire to Elizabethtown with the five thousand Union soldiers was the best that General Sherman could do.

At this crisis General Anderson resigned his command on account of ill health, and the mantle of authority fell on General Sherman; no very desirable honor at that time, for “most of the fighting young men of Kentucky had gone to join the rebels. The non-combatants were divided in sentiment, and most of them far from friendly. He lacked men, and most of those he had were poorly armed. He lacked, also, means of transportation and munitions of war; and if the rebel generals had known his actual condition, they could have captured or driven his forces across the Ohio in less than ten days. He applied earnestly and persistently for reënforcements, and, at the same time, took every possible precaution to conceal his weakness from the enemy, as well as from the loyal public. At that time newspaper reporters were not always discreet, and often obtained and published the very facts that should have been concealed. He issued a stringent order excluding all reporters and correspondents from his lines. This brought down upon him the indignation of the press. More unfortunately still, he failed to impress the Secretary of War with the necessities of his position and the importance of holding it. On the 3d of November he telegraphed to General McClellan the condition of affairs, with the number of his several forces, showing them to be everywhere, except at one single point, outnumbered, and concluded his despatch with the emphatic remark, ‘Our forces are too small to do good, and too large to be sacrificed.’

“In reply, General McClellan asks, ‘How long could McCook keep Buckner out of Louisville, holding the railroad, with power to destroy it inch by inch?’—giving no hint of a purpose to send reënforcements, but looking to the probable abandonment of Kentucky. Previous to this, General Sherman had had an interview with Secretary Cameron, in presence of Adjutant-General Thomas, at Lexington, Kentucky, and fully explained to him the situation of his command, and also of the armies opposed to him; and, on being asked what force was necessary for a successful forward movement in his department, answered, ‘Two hundred thousand men.’ By the 1st of November, Adjutant-General Thomas’s official report of this conversation, in all its details, was published in most of the newspapers of the country, giving the enemy full knowledge of many important facts relating to General Sherman’s department. He was too weak to defend his lines; and the enemy knew it. He had no hope of reënforcements, and, withal, was evidently in discredit with the War Department, as being too apprehensive of the power, strength, and resources of the enemy. He, therefore, felt he could not successfully conduct the campaign, and asked to be relieved. He was succeeded by General Buell, who was at once reënforced, and enabled to hold his defensive positions until Grant, the following spring, should advance down the Mississippi and up the Cumberland.

“General Sherman was now set down as ‘crazy,’ and quietly retired to the command of Benton Barracks, near St. Louis. The evidence of his insanity was his answer to the Secretary of War—that to make a successful advance against the enemy, then strongly posted at all strategic points from the Mississippi to Cumberland Gap, would require an army two hundred thousand strong! The answer was the inspiration or the judgment of a military genius; but to the mind of Mr. Secretary Cameron it was the prophecy of a false wizard.

“It has been said of the Spaniards, ‘that they generally managed to have an army when they had no general, and a general when they had no army;’ and during the first years of the war we surpassed in folly their example. It was vainly expected the rebellion could effectually be put down without either a general or an army, by a mere flourish of trumpets—as if the foundations of the Confederacy, like the walls of Jericho, would yield and fall at the blowing of a ram’s horn. Subsequent events have sufficiently vindicated General Sherman’s opinion expressed in his reply to the Secretary of War.

“Meantime General Halleck succeeded to the command of the Department of the West, and General Sherman was not long allowed to remain in charge of a recruiting-rendezvous at St. Louis. When General Grant moved on Fort Donelson, Sherman was intrusted with the forwarding to him of reënforcements and supplies from Paducah. General Grant subsequently acknowleged himself ‘greatly indebted for his promptness’ in discharging that duty. After the capture of that stronghold, General Sherman was put in command of the fifth division of Grant’s army at Pittsburg Landing. At the same time Beauregard was industriously collecting the rebel forces at Corinth, a strong strategic point, well fortified, thirty miles distant. Grant had moved up from Fort Donelson, and Buell was on his way.”

How grandly General Grant and Commodore Foote did their work at Forts Henry and Donelson! What deeds of valor were performed by our Western boys, whose couch at night was the snowy earth, reddened with the blood of carnage!

But while that storm of conflict was raging, an officer who had no superior, and longed to enter its perils and glory for his native land and his own loyal West, was patiently, and “without observation,” sending, with an intelligent appreciation of what was needed, and remarkable promptness, supplies for the heroes of the great border battles. General Grant knew the value of that service, and warmly expressed in his despatches his “indebtedness to General Sherman” for his activity, his timely and indispensable aid, apart from the bloody field.

My reader will recollect that the fall of Fort Donelson, about the middle of February, 1862, startled the whole of “rebeldom.” The strongest fortress in the West was taken. The next position in importance was Corinth, because at the junction of the Memphis and Charleston and the Mobile and Ohio Railroads. Memphis, the enemy knew, must soon be the prize for which our victorious troops would strike.

“Corinth must be defended!” was the cry from the South. General Beauregard, the hero of Sumter and Bull Run, hastened to the field of conflict, to lend the power of his name and generalship to the cause of treason.

General Grant had moved the gunboats after the surrender of Fort Donelson down the Cumberland and up the Tennessee River to Pittsburg Landing, making Savannah, ten miles distant, his own headquarters.

General Buell, with the Army of the Ohio, was marching toward this point to join him, from the pursuit of General Johnston through Nashville. The rebel officers decided to concentrate their forces, by the railroads in their possession, unexpectedly upon the Union army before Buell could get there, and after annihilating it, turn upon him and scatter his battalions. The enemy kept his counsels well, while preparing to hurl his legions upon our columns.

CHAPTER IX.

Pittsburg Landing—The Surprise—The Battle—The Victory—Sherman’s glorious part in the Struggle—The Testimony of Officers—His Letter on the Contest.

ITTSBURG is the nearest point to Corinth on the river, three miles from which, in the sparsely settled country, is the old log building called Shiloh Church—a dilapidated sanctuary of primitive, or rather backwoods style. Around this desolate place of former worship lay General Sherman’s division, bordering both sides of the lower road to Corinth.

Sunday morning, April 6th, the fifty thousand men or more, under such leaders as Beauregard, Johnston, Breckinridge, and Polk, fell upon the army of the Republic, emerging from their forest paths like spectres in the early light. “Carleton,” who was there, and carefully went over the field of conflict to know all that was done, thus notices our hero:

“Sherman’s pickets were being driven back by the rapid advance of the rebel lines. It was a little past sun-rise when they came in, breathless, with startling accounts that the entire rebel army was at their heels. The officers were not out of bed. The soldiers were just stirring, rubbing their eyes, putting on their boots, washing at the brook, or tending their camp kettles. Their guns were in their tents; they had a small supply of ammunition. It was a complete surprise. Officers jumped from their beds, tore open the tent-flies, and stood in undress to see what it was all about. The rebel pickets rushed up within close musket range and fired.

“ ‘Fall in! Form a line! here, quick!’ were the orders from the officers.

“There was running in every direction. Soldiers for their guns, officers for their sabres, artillerists to their pieces, teamsters to their horses. There was hot haste, and a great hurly-burly.

“General Hardee made a mistake at the outset. Instead of rushing up with a bayonet charge upon Sherman’s camp, and routing his unformed brigades in an instant, as he might have done, he unlimbered his batteries and opened fire.

“When the alarm was given General Sherman was instantly on his horse. He sent a request to McClernand to support Hilderbrand. He also sent word to Prentiss that the enemy were in front, but Prentiss had already made the discovery, and was contending with all his might against the avalanche rolling upon him from the ridge south of his position. He sent word to Hurlbut that a force was needed in the gap between the church and Prentiss. He was everywhere present, dashing along his lines, paying no attention to the constant fire aimed at him and his staff by the rebel skirmishers, within short musket range. They saw him, knew that he was an officer of high rank, saw that he was bringing order out of confusion, and tried to pick him off. While galloping down to Hilderbrand, his orderly, Halliday, was killed.

“Sherman tried to hold his position by the church. He considered it to be of the utmost importance. He did not want to lose his camp. He exhibited great bravery. His horse was shot, and he mounted another. That also was killed, and he took a third, and, before night, lost his fourth. He encouraged his men, not only by his words but by his reckless daring. Captain Behr had been posted on the Purdy road with his battery, and had had but little part in the fight. He was falling back, closely followed by Pond.

“ ‘Come into position out there on the right,’ said Sherman, pointing to the place where he wanted him to unlimber. Then came a volley from the woods. A shot struck the captain from his horse. The drivers and gunners became frightened and rode off with the caissons, leaving five unspiked guns to fall into the hands of the rebels! Sherman and Taylor, and other officers, by their coolness, bravery, and daring, saved Buckland’s and McDowell’s brigades from a panic; and thus, after four hours of hard fighting, Sherman was obliged to leave his camp and fall back behind McClernand, who now was having, a fierce fight with the brigades which had pushed in between Prentiss and Sherman.”

You shall hear from the general’s fellow-officers about his appearance and gallantry on this terrible field of strife. A brave cavalry officer said of him: “Having occasion to report personally to General Sherman, about noon of the first day of Shiloh, I found him dismounted, his arm in a sling, his hand bleeding, his horse dead, himself covered with dust, his face besmeared with powder and blood. He was giving directions at the moment to Major Taylor, his chief of artillery, who had just brought a battery into position. Mounted orderlies were coming and going in haste; staff officers were making anxious inquiries; everybody but himself seemed excited. The battle was raging terrifically in every direction. Just then there seemed to be universal commotion on our right, where it was observed our men were giving back. ‘I was looking for that,’ said Sherman, ‘but I am ready for them.’ His quick, sharp eye flashed, and his war-begrimed face beamed with satisfaction. The enemy’s packed columns now made their appearance, and as quickly the guns which Sherman had so carefully placed in position began to speak. The deadly effect on the enemy was apparent. While Sherman was still managing the artillery, Major Sanger, a staff officer, called his attention to the fact that the enemy’s cavalry were charging toward the battery. ‘Order up those two companies of infantry,’ was the quick reply, and the general coolly went on with his guns. The cavalry made a gallant charge, but their horses carried back empty saddles. The enemy was evidently foiled. Our men, gaining fresh courage, rallied again, and for the first time that day the enemy was held stubbornly in check. A moment more and he fell back over the piles of his dead and wounded.”

General Rousseau, a division officer of Buell’s Army of the Cumberland, speaks of him in the following handsome manner:

“He gave us our first lessons in the field in the face of an enemy; and of all the men I ever saw he is the most untiring, vigilant, and patient. No man that ever lived could surpass him. His enemies say that he was surprised at Shiloh. I tell you no. He was not surprised nor whipped, for he fights by the week. Devoid of ambition, incapable of envy, he is brave, gallant, and just. At Shiloh his old legion met him just as the battle was ended; and at the sight of him, placing their hats upon their bayonets, gave him three cheers. It was a touching and fitting compliment to the gallant chieftain. I am thankful for this occasion to do justice to a brave, honest, and knightly gentleman.”

Nor did he escape the attention of his commanding officer. General Grant, in a letter to the War Department, under date of July 25, 1863, said:

“At the battle of Shiloh, on the last day, he held, with raw troops, the key point of the landing. It is no disparagement to any other officer to say that I do not believe there was another division commander on the field who had the skill and experience to have done it. To his individual efforts I am indebted for the success of that battle.”

Writes Colonel Bowman: “He formed his first line of battle on the brow of a hill, or rather ridge, on the west of Lick and Owl Creeks, which served as a natural fortification. The men, by lying down or retiring a few steps, were well covered, and, by rising and advancing a few paces, could deliver their fire with terrible effect. But his troops were mostly green, and wholly untrained in the art of war. The rebel onset was well directed, rapid, and most persistent. Some of Sherman’s regiments broke and fled, while others fought like veterans. The fight soon became general; Beauregard hurled his massed columns with great impetuosity against our attenuated lines, which, though yielding to the pressure, did not break. The rebels gained ground inch by inch, but could do no more than compress the semicircle of our line of battle. Beauregard had promised his troops to drive us into the Tennessee that day before three o’clock, but nightfall found him contemplating the chances of successful retreat; for Buell had arrived. Sherman’s conduct on that day showed him to be a man of the first order of military talent. He was not disconcerted by the panic among his green troops, and, indeed, had expected it. All he asked was, that a reasonable number should remain and obey orders; and in an American army there can always be found a goodly proportion of officers and men incapable of being cowards under any circumstances. With such he did battle on the 6th of April, 1862—a day long to be remembered, as the day of the battle of Shiloh. There was not a commanding general on the field who did not rely on Sherman, and look to him as our chief hope; and there is no question that but for Sherman our army would have been destroyed. He rode from place to place, directing his men; he selected from time to time the positions for his artillery; he dismounted and managed the guns; he sent suggestions to commanders of divisions; he inspired everybody with confidence; and yet it never occurred to him that he had accomplished any thing worthy of remark.”

General Nelson, a few days before his death, in conversation with Larz Anderson and two or three other gentlemen, said: “During eight hours, the fate of the army on the field of Shiloh depended on the life of one man: if General Sherman had fallen, the army would have been captured or destroyed.”

General Halleck, in his despatch to the Secretary of War, recommending General Sherman for promotion, said of him: “It is the unanimous opinion here that Brigadier-General W. T. Sherman saved the fortunes of the day on the 6th of April, and contributed largely to the glorious victory of the 7th. He was in the thickest of the fight on both days, having three horses killed under him, and being wounded twice. I respectfully request that he be made a major-general of volunteers, to date from the 6th instant.”

Acting upon this recommendation, General Sherman was promoted to the rank designated, to date from May 1st, 1862.

I shall give you now a letter of considerable length, written by General Sherman himself about the battle. Some of my readers may not care to read it all; but it should have a place in the annals of his life, because it is one of many illustrations of his power with the pen, and is also his honest and truthful record of the great contest at Pittsburg Landing:

“Headquarters Military Division Mississippi.

“Professor Henry Coppee, Philadelphia:

“Dear Sir: In the June number of the United States Service Magazine I find a brief sketch of Lieutenant-General U. S. Grant, in which I see you are likely to perpetuate an error, which General Grant may not deem of sufficient importance to correct. To General Buell’s noble, able, and gallant conduct you attribute the fact that the disaster of April 6th, at Pittsburg Landing, was retrieved, and made the victory of the following day. As General Taylor is said in his later days to have doubted whether he was at the battle of Buena Vista at all, on account of the many things having transpired there, according to the historians, which he did not see, so I begin to doubt whether I was at the battle of Pittsburg Landing of modern description. But I was at the battles of April 6th and 7th, 1862. General Grant visited my division in person about ten a. m., when the battle raged fiercest. I was then on the right.

“After some general conversation, he remarked that I was doing right in stubbornly opposing the progress of the enemy; and, in answer to my inquiry as to cartridges, told me he had anticipated their want, and given orders accordingly; he then said his presence was more needed over at the left. About two p. m. on the 6th, the enemy materially slackened his attack on me, and about four p. m. I deliberately made a new line behind McArthur’s drill field, placing batteries on chosen ground, repelled easily a cavalry attack, and watched the cautious approach of the enemy’s infantry, that never dislodged me there. I selected that line in advance of a bridge across Snake Creek, by which we had all day been expecting the approach of Lew. Wallace’s division from Crump’s Landing. About five p. m., before the sun set, General Grant came again to me, and, after hearing my report of matters, explained to me the situation of affairs on the left, which were not as favorable. Still the enemy had failed to reach the landing of the boat.

“We agreed that the enemy had expended the furore of his attack, and we estimated our loss, and approximated our then strength, including Lew. Wallace’s fresh division, expected each minute. He then ordered me to get all things ready, and at daylight the next day to assume the offensive. That was before General Buell had arrived, but he was known to be near at hand. General Buell’s troops took no essential part in the first day’s fight, and Grant’s army, though collected together hastily, green as militia, some regiments arriving without cartridges even, and nearly all hearing the dread sound of battle for the first time, had successfully withstood and repelled the first day’s terrific onset of a superior enemy, well commanded and well handled. I know I had orders from General Grant to assume the offensive before I knew General Buell was on the west side of the Tennessee. I think General Buell, Colonel Fry, and others of General Buell’s staff, rode up to where I was about sunset, about the time General Grant was leaving me. General Buell asked me many questions, and got of me a small map, which I had made for my own use, and told me that by daylight he could have eighteen thousand fresh men, which I knew would settle the matter.

“I understood Grant’s forces were to advance on the right of the Corinth road and Buell’s on the left, and accordingly at daylight I advanced my division by the flank, the resistance being trivial, up to the very spot where the day before the battle had been most severe, and then waited till near noon for Buell’s troops to get up abreast, when the entire line advanced and recovered all the ground we had ever held. I know that with the exception of one or two struggles, the fighting of April 7th was easy as compared with that of April 6th.

“I never was disposed, nor am I now, to question any thing done by General Buell and his army, and know that, approaching our field of battle from the rear, he encountered that sickening crowd of laggards and fugitives that excited his contempt and that of his army, who never gave full credit to those in the front line, who did fight hard, who had, at two p. m., checked the enemy, and were preparing the next day to assume the offensive. I remember the fact the better from General Grant’s anecdote of the Donelson battle, which he told me then for the first time—that, at a certain period of the battle, he saw that either side was ready to give way if the other showed a bold front, and he determined to do that very thing, to advance on the enemy, when, as he prognosticated, the enemy surrendered.

“At four p. m. of April 6th, he thought the appearances the same, and he judged, with Lew. Wallace’s fresh division, and such of our startled troops as had recovered their equilibrium, he would be justified in dropping the defensive and assuming the offensive in the morning. And, I repeat, I received such orders before I knew General Buell’s troops were at the river. I admit that I was glad Buell was there, because I knew his troops were older than ours, and better systematized and drilled, and his arrival made that certain which before was uncertain. I have heard this question much discussed, and must say that the officers of Buell’s army dwelt too much on the stampede of some of our raw troops, and gave us too little credit for the fact that for one whole day, weakened as we were by the absence of Buell’s army, long expected, of Lew. Wallace’s division, only four miles off, and of the fugitives from our ranks, we had beaten off our assailants for the time. At the same time our Army of the Tennessee have indulged in severe criticism at the slow approach of that army which knew the danger that threatened us from the concentrated armies of Johnston, Beauregard, and Bragg, that lay at Corinth.

“In a war like this, where opportunities for personal prowess are as plenty as blackberries, to those who seek them at the front, all such criminations should be frowned down; and were it not for the military character of your journal, I would not venture to offer a correction to a very popular error.

“I will also avail myself of this occasion to correct another very common mistake in attributing to General Grant the selection of that battle-field. It was chosen by that veteran soldier, Major-General Charles F. Smith, who ordered my division to disembark there, and strike for the Charleston Railroad. This order was subsequently modified by his ordering Hurlbut’s division to disembark there, and mine higher up the Tennessee to the mouth of Yellow Creek, to strike the railroad at Burnsville. But floods prevented our reaching the railroad, when General Smith ordered me in person also to disembark at Pittsburg Landing, and take post well out, so as to make plenty of room, with Snake and Lake Creeks the flanks of a camp for the grand army of invasion.

“It was General Smith who selected that field of battle, and it was well chosen. On any other we surely would have been overwhelmed, as both Lick and Snake Creeks forced the enemy to confine his movements to a direct front attack, which new troops are better qualified to resist than where flanks are exposed to a real or chimerical danger. Even the divisions of that army were arranged in that camp by General Smith’s orders, my division forming, as it were, the outlying pickets, whilst McClernand’s and Prentiss’s were the real line-of-battle, with W. H. L. Wallace in support of the right wing, and Hurlbut on the left; Lew. Wallace’s division being detached. All these subordinate dispositions were made by the order of General Smith, before General Grant succeeded him in the command of all the forces up the Tennessee—headquarters, Savannah.

“If there were any error in putting that army on the west side of the Tennessee, exposed to the superior force of the enemy also assembling at Corinth, the mistake was not General Grant’s; but there was no mistake. It was necessary that a combat, fierce and bitter, to test the manhood of the two armies, should come off, and that was as good as any. It was not then a question of military skill and strategy, but of courage and pluck, and I am convinced that every life lost that day to us was necessary; for otherwise at Corinth, at Memphis, at Vicksburg, we would have found harder resistance, had we not shown our enemies that, rude and untutored as we then were, we could fight as well as they.

“Excuse so long a letter, which is very unusual for me; but of course my life is liable to cease at any moment, and I happen to be a witness to certain truths which are now beginning to pass out of memory, and form what is called history.

“I also take great pleasure in adding that nearly all the new troops that at Shiloh drew from me official censure have more than redeemed their good name; among them that very regiment which first broke, the Fifty-third Ohio, Colonel Appen. Under another leader, Colonel Jones, it has shared every campaign and expedition of mine since, is with me now, and can march, and bivouac, and fight as well as the best regiment in this or any army. Its reputation now is equal to that of any from the State of Ohio.

“I am, with respect, yours truly,

“W. T. Sherman, Major-General.”

Rarely for young and old is there a finer example of Professor Longfellow’s words in the Psalm of Life—

“Learn to labor and to wait,”

than this part of General Sherman’s career affords. He did his work well, and two years afterwards the military genius, unrecognized then by the country, filled the land with his praise.

CHAPTER X.

The Morning after the Battle—General Sherman’s column in Motion—What it did—Corinth the next Goal—The Siege—The Evacuation—General Sherman’s troops the first to enter the Works—The Hero is made Major-General—Advance on Holly Springs—Memphis—General Sherman’s successful Command in that City—The Guerrillas.

HE eighth of April dawned upon the silent, sanguinary field of recent conflict. Soon large companies of men were moving from the Union camps with spades and other implements of burial, to lay in trenches the heaps of the slain. The weather was warm in that southern latitude, and General Grant hastened the work of interment alike of slaughtered friends and foes.

General Beauregard wrote to our commander, requesting leave to take rebel bodies from our lines under flag of truce; but other hands were completing the sad labor for the disfigured, blood-stained, and pulseless warriors.

Look away from that scene, after the battle, along the Corinth road, and you see the serried files of living men, led by the unresisting Sherman, dashing along in hot pursuit of the enemy. The chief of the fifth division, with a force of cavalry and two brigades of infantry, is in the war-path again. Suddenly appear the white tents of the abandoned camps of the enemy, and hospital flags are flying over them in the early breeze. What does it mean? They are false signals, hung out to deceive the pursuing commander, and protect the deserted canvas cities. Onward the sagacious, daring leader hurries after the foe.

And now a shout rings from the lips of our “boys.” The rebel cavalry are in sight. A few moments later swords cross, pistols crack, and horses rush together in the strife. Then the “graybacks” turn and fly, leaving the field, camps, and all, to our victorious ranks. The work of destruction followed. Tents, arms, ammunition, were mingled in a common ruin. The road for miles was lined with wagons the foe were compelled to leave in their haste to get out of our way; ambulances stood unused, although thousands of the mangled were in need of them; limber-boxes, which belong to the guns, were also abandoned; indeed, every thing showed a hurried retreat, which but for the cavalry in the rear to cover the flight of the infantry, would have been a complete rout of the enemy.

The victor returned from his gallant exploit only to repeat it. The general advance toward Corinth immediately followed. The fifth division swept over the country, which was arrayed in vernal verdure and bloom. The birds sang as sweetly as in any former spring-time, startled beside the highway only by the tramp of the marching host.

May 17th the first shock came. The division of General Grant’s army under Sherman, met the rebels in a severe conflict on the road to Corinth. They had to fall back before the human tide, crested with fire and steel. This brief contest only opened the way to the fortress of rebel strength. And the question was, how shall Corinth be taken? It must either be by direct and bloody assault, or by siege, surrounding it, and compelling the imprisoned army to surrender.

Beauregard watched with sleepless vigilance his foe. He ordered troops to intrench on a ridge near Philip’s Creek and oppose the Union forces. General Jeff. C. Davis approached the works; then, feigning a retreat, drew the garrison out, when a severe struggle defeated the enemy completely. This occurred May 21st; and, on the 27th, General Sherman also had a fight with the rebels.

The decisive hour at length has come; all is activity and excitement. We cannot furnish you a more vivid description of the stirring and awfully sublime scenes of such a crisis in army operations, than one given in a letter from this field of conquest:

“Regiments and artillery are placed in position, and, generally, the cavalry is in advance; but when the opposing forces are in close proximity, the infantry does the work. The whole front is covered by a cloud of skirmishers, then reserves formed, and then, in connection with the main line, they advance. For a moment all is still as the grave to those in the background; as the line moves on, the eye is strained in vain to follow the skirmishers as they creep silently forward; then, from some point of the line, a single rifle rings through the forest, sharp and clear, and, as if in echo, another answers it. In a moment more the whole line resounds with the din of arms. Here the fire is slow and steady, there it rattles with fearful rapidity; and the whole is mingled with the roar of the reserves as the skirmishers are at any part driven in; and if, by reason of superior force, these reserves fall back to the main force, then every nook and corner seems full of sound. The batteries open their terrible voices, and their shells sing horribly while winging their flight, and their dull explosion speaks plainly of death; their canister and grape go crashing through the trees, rifles ring, the muskets roar, and the din is terrific. Then the slackening of the fire denotes the withdrawing of the one party, and the more distant picket firing that the work was accomplished. The silence becomes almost painful after such a scene as this, and no one can conceive the effect who has not experienced it. The line of works was selected, and, at the word of command, three thousand men, with axes, spades, and picks, stepped out into the open field from their cover in the woods. In almost as short a time as it takes to tell it, the fence rails which surrounded and divided three hundred farm lots, were on the shoulders of the men, and on the way to the intended line of works. Then, as, for a time, the ditches deepen, the dirt is packed on the outer side, the bushes and all points of concealment are cleared from the front, and the centre divisions of our army has taken a long stride toward the rebel works. The siege guns are brought and placed in commanding positions. A log-house furnishes the hewn and seasoned timber for the platforms, and the plantation of a southern lord has been thus speedily transformed into one of Uncle Sam’s strongholds, where the Stars and Stripes float proudly.

“Soon after daylight, on Friday morning, the army was startled by rapid and long-continued explosions, similar to musketry, but much louder. The conviction flashed across my mind that the rebels were blowing up their loose ammunition, and leaving. The dense smoke arising in the direction of Corinth strengthened this belief, and soon the whole army was advancing on a grand reconnaissance. The distance through the woods was short, and in a few minutes shouts arose from the rebel lines, which told that our army was in their trenches. Regiment after regiment pressed on, and passing through extensive camps just vacated, soon reached Corinth, and found half of it in flames.”

The troops under General Sherman were first in the works. Their columns, as we have seen, were conspicuous in the entire and triumphant progress from Shiloh, sustaining the heaviest blows, and bearing aloft proudly the banner of the republic. General Sherman was in subordinate command, but in his field of action he was the uniformly wise, shrewd, daring, and successful leader. Wrote General Grant: “His services as division commander in the advance on Corinth, I will venture to say, were appreciated by the new general-in-chief beyond any other division commander.” He was appointed major-general of volunteers, dating from May 1st, 1862.

Holly Springs, of which you will read more hereafter, is situated on the railroad from Jackson, Tennessee, to New Orleans. June 20th, General Sherman coolly relieved the rebels of its care, and took possession himself, burning long stretches of trestle-work on the Mississippi Central Railroad, to prevent an unpleasant surprise by the rebels. They had removed their machinery for making and repairing arms to Atlanta, Georgia, not dreaming of a visit to that city two years later by the division-general at Holly Springs.

A few weeks after these events, July 11th, General Halleck was ordered to Washington in the high position of generalissimo of the Union armies, and a reorganization of them followed. General Grant was placed in command of the “Department of West Tennessee,” covering a large territory bordering the Tennessee and Mississippi Rivers. Memphis, which had surrendered June 6th, was a very important base of operations and supplies. But guerrillas and contraband traders infested the country around, making the city a dangerous haunt of traitors from the border-land. General Grant displayed his wisdom in sending General Sherman to the post, declaring that he could the most effectually restore order and security to that disturbed district. Soon quiet reigned, guerrillas disappeared, and villanous traders went to more comfortable quarters. General Sherman did all and more than General Grant expected of him. He was just, humane, and yet severe in his administration, according to his views freely and often expressed; that when people appeal to war for the settlement of claims, they must abide entirely by the rules and consequences of so terrible a means of real or imaginary redress. His ideas were comprehensive, and, had they prevailed at an earlier period, our Government and commanders would have ended the civil strife long ago, we cannot doubt.

CHAPTER XI.

General Sherman’s next Post—The Steele’s Bayou Expedition—A Trial of Courage—The Leader’s Heroism.

O secure the forces necessary for a new movement against Vicksburg, General Grant requested the War Department to reunite the thirteenth and fifteenth corps with his own. Accordingly, after the completion of the work of destruction of rebel defences and munitions at Arkansas Post, the troops reported to him at Memphis.

The country was then excited over a quiet, and yet startling act of the Chief Magistrate—one which would be felt over the world, and through all ages—the Proclamation of Emancipation! General Grant immediately addressed himself to the enforcement of its provisions within the limits of his command. Thousands wept for joy; thousands more trembled or cursed with alarm over the immortal document. Issuing his order in harmony with it, he soon after removed a portion of his magnificent army to Young’s Point, in Louisiana, and another at Milliken’s Bend down the Mississippi River, taking up his headquarters at the former place, where General Sherman was also stationed with his troops.

There was now a new device to get around Vicksburg, and so open communication with forces below the city. Canals were tried, but heavy rains, and the troops being required to fight the floods rushing into camp and excavations, compelled the commander-in-chief to abandon the enterprise. Providence Lake and its connections, and Yazoo Pass, were successively explored, and the effort made to find a ship-path through the wild region.

Admiral Porter had been looking along the shores of the “Father of Waters,” to see if he could discover a highway or byway for his gunboats. About the middle of March, 1862, he told General Grant that he was quite sure he could get through by Steele’s Bayou, Black Bayou, to Duck Creek, thence to Deer Creek, into Rolling Fork, and down Sunflower River into the Yazoo, which empties into the Mississippi.

IN THE BAYOUS.

General Grant and Admiral Porter proceeded on the experimental excursion over these dark bayous. “And what are they?” you may ask.

A bayou is a channel or outlet running from a river to other waters—sometimes it is an old bed of the stream—forming thus connections by which vessels can pass from one stream to another.

General Grant returned to Young’s Point to send a pioneer corps to cut away moss-covered trees overhanging the waters, and obstructing the way. You can scarcely imagine the awful gloom and solitude of those tangled woods, whose drooping boughs and long plumes of moss sweep the surface of the dismal bayous.

Admiral Porter soon found that the enemy were on his track, and might shut him into the wilderness. He therefore sent to General Grant for troops. The ignorance of the country, and the difficult winding way, gave the rebels time to cut off the advance, and stop the bold travellers just when near their journey’s end.

General Sherman now appears in the adventure, ordered forward by his chief, to help the admiral out of the perilous spot.

The despatch from the Admiral having reached him March 21st, that the channel was obstructed, and the enemy six hundred strong, with field batteries disputing his advance, General Sherman, with the promptness and decision characteristic of his unsleeping martial spirit, issued his orders to the troops. They made a forced march, skirmishing part of the way, and reached the gunboats before night of the 22d, a distance of twenty-one miles, over a terrible road. But the brave fellows had learned that General Sherman always had a reason for his movements, and cheerfully advanced to the rescue through exhausting trial and peril. “During the day the enemy had been largely reënforced from the Yazoo, and now unmasked some five thousand men—infantry, cavalry, and artillery. The boats were surrounded with rebels, who had cut down trees before and behind them, were moving up artillery, and making every exertion to cut off retreat and capture our boats. A patrol was at once established for a distance of seven miles along Deer Creek, behind the boats, with a chain of sentinels outside of them, to prevent the felling of trees. For a mile and a half to Rolling Fork, the creek was full of obstructions. Heavy batteries were on its bank, supported by a large force. To advance was impossible; to retreat seemed almost hopeless. The gunboats had their ports all closed, and preparations made to resist boarders. The mortar boats were all ready for fire and explosion. The army lines were so close to each other that rebel officers wandered into our lines in the dark, and were captured. It was the second night without sleep aboard ship, and the infantry had marched twenty-one miles without rest. But the faithful force, with their energetic leader, kept successful watch and ward over the boats and their valuable artillery. At 7 o’clock that morning, the 22d, General Sherman received a despatch from the admiral, by the hands of a faithful contraband who came along through the rebel lines in the night, stating his perilous condition.”

He was now fairly shut up in the bayou by the rebels.

“The first firing of the gunboats was heard by General Sherman near the Shelby plantation. He urged his troops forward, and after an hour’s hard marching, the advance, deployed as skirmishers, came upon a body of the enemy who had passed by the force which had been engaged. Immediately engaging them, the enemy stood a while disconcerted by the unexpected attack, fought a short time, and gave way.

“The next effort of the rebels was to pass around our lines in the afternoon and night, and throw their whole force still further below us; General Stuart, with four regiments, marched on Hill’s plantation the same morning, having run his transports in the night, and immediately advanced one regiment up Deer Creek, and another still further to the right. The rebels, who were making a circuit about General Sherman, thus found the whole line occupied, and abandoned the attempt to cut off the gunboats for that day. During the afternoon the troops and gunboats all arrived at Hill’s plantation.

“There were destroyed by our troops and by the rebels at least two thousand bales of cotton, fifty thousand bushels of corn, and the gins and houses of the plantations whose owners had obstructed our progress, and joined in the warfare. The resources of the country we found ample to subsist the army at Vicksburg for some length of time, and by the destruction of them we crippled the enemy so far.”

The rescue of the admiral’s force was next thing to a miracle: it was God’s kind and timely interposition. A half hour’s delay in the movements of Generals Sherman and Stuart, or of the second forced march of the former, and all would have been lost. In the hands of a less gifted and energetic leader, one of our bravest admirals, with his fleet, would have been taken by the rebels, who were confident of the prey and booty.

CHAPTER XII.

The Position of the Western Forces—The Expedition against Vicksburg under General Sherman—The Just and Stringent Orders of the Chief—He shows the Speculators no Mercy—The Advance of the Grand Army Checked—The Embarkation of Troops—The Magnificent Pageant—The Progress and Arrival of the Fleet.

EFORE following our brave commander further in his war-path, let us survey the field of action in the West. The goal of patriotic ambition was now the “Gibraltar of the Father of Waters”—Vicksburg. The great work of preparation to move went forward during the autumn and early winter under the eye of the patient, persistent Grant.

December 22d, 1862, he issued an order dividing the troops into four army corps, stating that “the fifth division, Brigadier-General Morgan L. Smith commanding, the division from Helena, Arkansas, commanded by Brigadier-General Steele, and the forces in the district of Memphis, will constitute the fifteenth army corps, and be commanded by Major-General W. T. Sherman.” Meanwhile, General Sherman had been quietly put in command of his forces, and ordered to sail for Friar’s Point, eighteen miles below Helena, and be ready to coöperate with the main body of troops under General Grant, in a combined movement on the stronghold. The former had been in the vicinity of the Tallahatchie River, making reconnaissances, and was acquainted with that country by this personal observation. He had issued an order of march which showed no mercy to speculators, and, as you will see, is marked with the clear thought and forcible words of its gifted author:

“1. The expedition now fitting out is purely of a military character, and the interests involved are of too important a nature to be mixed up with personal and private business. No citizen, male or female, will be allowed to accompany it, unless employed as part of a crew or as servants to the transports. Female chambermaids to the boats and nurses to the sick alone will be allowed, unless the wives of captains and pilots actually belonging to the boats. No laundress, officer’s, or soldier’s wife must pass below Helena.

“2. No person whatever, citizen, officer, or sutler, will, on any consideration, buy or deal in cotton or other produce of the country. Should any cotton be brought on board of any transport going or returning, the brigade quartermaster, of which the boat forms a part, will take possession of it, and invoice it to Captain A. R. Eddy, Chief Quartermaster at Memphis.

“3. Should any cotton or other produce be brought back to Memphis by any chartered boat, Captain Eddy will take possession of the same, and sell it for the benefit of the United States. If accompanied by its actual producer, the planter or factor, the quartermaster will furnish him with a receipt for the same to be settled for, on proof of his loyalty at the close of the war.

“4. Boats ascending the river may take cotton from the shore for bulkheads to protect their engines or crew, but on arrival at Memphis it will be turned over to the quartermaster, with a statement of the time, place, and name of its owner. The trade in cotton must await a more peaceful state of affairs.

“5. Should any citizen accompany the expedition below Helena, in violation of these orders, any colonel of a regiment or captain of a battery will conscript him into the service of the United States for the unexpired term of his command. If he show a refractory spirit unfitting him for a soldier, the commanding officer present will turn him over to the captain of the boat as a deck hand, and compel him to work in that capacity without wages until the boat returns to Memphis.

“6. Any person whatever, whether in the service of the United States or transports, found making reports for publication, which might reach the enemy, giving them information, aid, and comfort, will be arrested and treated as spies.”

The columns of the three army corps had advanced along the railroad leading from Grand Junction to Grenada, the advance passing onward through Holly Springs the last of November. By the middle of December General Grant’s headquarters were at Oxford, his face set toward Vicksburg. On the 20th occurred a painful and memorable affair to check the forward march. Although Gen. Grant had taken every precaution against raiding parties, a dash was made at Holly Springs in his rear, held by Colonel Murphy, who at once surrendered the post.

General Grant was indignant at the cowardly surrender, and immediately dismissed the unworthy officer from the service. In consequence of the destruction of supplies, the commander-in-chief had to fall back to Holly Springs and prepare to start again. While this serious interruption in the army’s progress was transpiring, General Sherman had located his headquarters on board of the Forest Queen with his staff. This magnificent fleet consisted of one hundred and twenty-seven steamers besides the gunboats. The troops were hardy, western men, unsurpassed in the ranks for the qualities of brave warriors.

War does not often present such a pageant as that of this armada sailing down the Tennessee and then the Mississippi Rivers. The Stars and Stripes waved over the crowded decks, and music floated over the waters. The grand procession of vessels moved majestically over the broad current, which in the sunlight reflected their forms, and in the evening unnumbered signal lanterns from mast and prow and stern. Various were the scenes and incidents of the voyage.

Writes a passenger: “Until we got below Helena, wood was so scarce on the river that it was only to be obtained by cutting it, either entirely green or from the water-logged drifts which had caught against the banks. Wherever a good placer was discovered, the boats lucky enough to find it landed and all hands went out with axes, and in a few hours enough was obtained to steam on to the next good place.

“When the fleet approached Napoleon, Arkansas, the Post Boy, which is a transportation boat, was in the advance, and as she neared the shore she was hailed by a person bearing a flag of truce, with the information that there was a band of guerrillas just below, waiting to fire upon her. At this time she was the only boat visible, but in a short time the remainder of the fleet made its appearance, and the guerrillas, if there were any, concluded, no doubt, that we were too many for them. At all events, at this point there was firing. The houses in the town appeared to be nearly all deserted, but in some of them could be seen persons standing back in the door, as if to escape the observation of their neighbors, and waving their handkerchiefs. Napoleon is the place where the first shot was fired at a Federal steamer on the Mississippi River, but there may be some Union people there nevertheless.

“As we reached Helena, very little of the city could be seen for the long line of tents stretched along the bank. The fleet stopped there for the night and took on the troops that were to accompany the expedition, and next morning started on for Friar’s Point, the first place of rendezvous. It lay there all night, and about nine o’clock next morning again started down the river, and reached Gaines’ Landing, one hundred and fifty miles below Helena, about two o’clock p. m., where it stopped to wood. As the fleet approached this point the bank appeared to be lined with negroes, who all started down the shore hurrahing and shouting and jumping, and cutting all kinds of antics. I learned from some of them that they thought the fleet was going down to set all the slaves free.

“When the boats landed, a negro gave information of a large store of wood of the best quality, amounting to more than two thousand cords, secreted in the timber near the bank, in a place where it would not readily have been found. This was a great prize, and was instantly levied on for the use of Uncle Sam. Every soldier able to do duty was sent on shore to pack wood, and by nightfall all the boats were well supplied for nearly the whole trip. Near the wood were some ten or twelve houses, one of them a very fine frame. The negroes said the owners had gone to join the Southern army, and the soldiers, without more ado, burned them all down. Many of the negroes, if not all, came on the boats, and are now under the protection of the army.

“At early light the next morning the fleet moved on again, and as General Morgan’s division came opposite a little village known as Wood Cottage Landing, some guerrillas, secreted in a clump of undergrowth, fired a volley at one of his transports. To teach them a lesson for the future, General Morgan sent some troops on shore and burnt every house in the neighborhood.

“Milliken’s Bend was to be the last rendezvous of the fleet before it started out for active operations on Vicksburg, and we arrived there about dark on the evening of the 24th December. The next day would be Christmas, and many of the soldiers had the idea that the fleet would sail right in without difficulty, and that they would take their Christmas dinner in Vicksburg. Many invitations were given among friends for a dinner at the Preston House. They little dreamed of the disappointment in store for them, or that New Year’s day would find them on the wrong side of the hill.

“On the night of the 24th, General Sherman sent out a detachment of troops, under command of General M. L. Smith, to tear up a section of the line of the Vicksburg and Texas Railroad, about ten miles west of Vicksburg. The work was well and quickly done, and the stations at Delhi and Dallas burned.

“At daylight next morning all was ready, and the fleet started for its destined port, which it reached on the banks of the Yazoo about noon the same day. Many years ago, about eight miles below the mouth of the Yazoo, the Mississippi cut a new channel for itself across a bend, coming into the main channel again just above Vicksburg. The Yazoo followed the old channel, and the mouth of the river is, therefore, really from twelve to fifteen miles below where it was originally; but from the old mouth to the new the river is known to pilots as ‘Old River.’ Where the fleet landed was about three miles above Old River, where the right rested, and the left extended to within three miles of Haynes’ Bluff, the intervening space being about six miles.

“On entering the Yazoo, the first object that attracted the attention was the ruins of a large brick house and several other buildings, which were still smoking. On inquiry, I learned that this was the celebrated plantation of the rebel General Albert Sidney Johnston, who was killed at Shiloh. It was an extensive establishment, working over three hundred negroes. It contained a large steam sugar refinery, an extensive steam saw-mill, cotton-gins, machine-shop, and a long line of negro quarters.

“The dwelling was palatial in its proportions and architecture, and the grounds around it were magnificently laid out in alcoves, with arbors, trellises, groves of evergreens, and extensive flower-beds. All was now a mass of smouldering ruins. Our gunboats had gone up there the day before, and a small battery planted near the mansion announced itself by plugging away at one of the iron-clads, and the marines went ashore after the gunboats had silenced the battery, and burned and destroyed every thing on the place. If any thing were wanting to complete the desolate aspect of the place, it was to be found in the sombre-hued pendant moss, peculiar to Southern forests, and which gives the trees a funereal aspect, as if they were all draped in mourning. As on almost every Southern plantation, there were many deadened trees standing about in the fields, from the limbs of all of which long festoons of moss hung, swaying with a melancholy motion in every breeze.

“The weather, since the starting out of the fleet, had, up to this time, been very fine; but as evening now approached, a heavy rain commenced, which, from the appearance of things, bid fair to continue for an indefinite period. The Yazoo River was low, and the banks steep and about thirty feet high. Along the edge of the water, and reaching to the foot of the bank, is a dense undergrowth of willows, briers, thorns, vines, and live oaks, twined together in a most disagreeably promiscuous manner. To effect a landing of the troops and trains, a way had to be cut through this entanglement, from every boat, and this caused such a delay that it was quite dark before all the troops were got on shore. Tents were pitched for the night, pickets sent out, and the army encamped, anxiously awaiting the dawn of the next day.”

That General Grant would fail to communicate with him, General Sherman could not know. He carried out his part of the great programme, and steadily advanced in accordance with its provisions for united action. In this profound ignorance of the occasion of the failure, he prepared to move upon Vicksburg.

CHAPTER XIII.

The March—The City—Preparations for an Assault—The Attack—The Abatis and Rifle-pits—The Charge upon the Hill—Sherman succeeded by McClernand—General Sherman’s Farewell Order—Result of the Expedition.

N Saturday morning, December 27th, the advance of the “right wing of the Army of the Tennessee” reached Vicksburg. The approach to the city from Johnston’s Landing was very difficult, the town “being on a hill, with a line of hills surrounding it at a distance of several miles, and extending from Haines’ Bluff, on the Yazoo River, to Warrenton, ten miles below, the city, on the Mississippi River. The low country in the vicinity is swampy, filled with sloughs, bayous, and lagoons; to approach Vicksburg with a large force by this route, even in times of peace, would be a matter of great difficulty, and with an enemy in front, it was almost an impossibility.”

The line of battle was soon formed by the army, and, from different points, the onset made upon the enemy’s works. Oh! how gallantly those Western legions beat against the ramparts! And when the twilight shadows stole over the bristling walls and hill-sides, they had driven the rebel forces a mile from their original position. Sunday dawned upon the night’s repose of the combatants, and on the sacred air rang out the summons to carnage again. But the affair at Holly Springs had broken up the grand plan of attack, while the flying troops from General Grant’s front reënforced the garrison. Over the battlements of rebellion poured the iron tempest upon Sherman’s unyielding lines. Securely the foe remained behind those defences, rising for two miles along the bluff, presenting a barrier no army small as the “right wing” could scale or remove. Meanwhile the sharpshooters from the forest dropped the officers on every hand.

The brave Sherman was all the while expecting every moment to hear the roar of General Grant’s guns in the rear. With Monday came a succession of brilliant charges, which were fruitless as the dash of sunlit waves against the cannon-pierced granite of Gibraltar. If a momentary advantage were gained, it was lost in the return tide of overwhelming numbers. A spectator of these terribly sublime encounters, wrote:

“General Morgan, at eleven o’clock a. m., sent word to General Steele that he was about ready for the movement upon the hill, and wished the latter to support him with General Thayer’s brigade. General Steele accordingly ordered General Thayer to move his brigade forward, and be ready for the assault. The order was promptly complied with, and General Blair received from General Morgan the order to assault the hill. The artillery had been silent for some time; but Hoffman’s battery opened when the movement commenced. This was promptly replied to by the enemy, and taken up by Griffith’s First Iowa battery, and a vigorous shelling was the result. By the time General Blair’s brigade emerged from its cover of cypress forest, the shell were dropping fast among the men. A field-battery had been in position in front of Hoffman’s battery; but it limbered up and moved away beyond the heavy batteries and the rifle-pits.

“In front of the timber where Blair’s brigade had been lying was an abatis of young trees, cut off about three feet above the ground, and with the tops fallen promiscuously around. It took some minutes to pass this abatis, and by the time it was accomplished the enemy’s fire had not been without effect. Beyond this abatis was a ditch fifteen or twenty feet deep, and with two or three feet of water in the bottom. The bottom of the ditch was a quicksand, in which the feet of the men commenced sinking, the instant they touched it. By the time this ditch was passed the line was thrown into considerable confusion, and it took several minutes to put it in order. All the horses of the officers were mired in this ditch. Every one dismounted and moved up the hill on foot. Beyond this ditch was an abatis of heavy timber that had been felled several months before, and, from being completely seasoned, was more difficult of passage than that constructed of the greener and more flexible trees encountered at first. These obstacles were overcome under a tremendous fire from the enemy’s batteries and the men in the rifle-pits. The line was recovered from the disorder into which it had been thrown by the passage of the abatis; and with General Blair at their head, the regiments moved forward ‘upon the enemy’s works.’ The first movement was over a sloping plateau, raked by direct and enfilading fires from heavy artillery, and swept by a perfect storm of bullets from the rifle-pits. Nothing daunted by the dozens of men that had already fallen, the brigade pressed on, and in a few moments had driven the enemy from the first range of rifle-pits at the base of the hill, and were in full possession.

“Halting but a moment to take breath, the brigade renewed the charge, and speedily occupied the second line of rifle-pits, about two hundred yards distant from the first. General Blair was the first man of his brigade to enter. All this time the murderous fire from the enemy’s guns continued. The batteries were still above this line of rifle-pits. The regiments were not strong enough to attempt their capture without a prompt and powerful support. For them it had truly been a march

Into the jaws of death—

Into the mouth of hell.

“Almost simultaneously with the movement of General Blair on the left, General Thayer received his command to go forward. He had previously given orders to all his regiments in column to follow each other whenever the first moved forward. He accordingly placed himself at the head of his advance regiment, the Fourth Iowa, and his order—‘Forward, second brigade!’—rang out clear above the tumult. Colonel Williamson, commanding the Fourth Iowa, moved it off in splendid style. General Thayer supposed that all the other regiments of his brigade were following, in accordance with his instructions previously issued. He wound through the timber skirting the bayou, crossed at the same bridge where General Blair had passed but a few minutes before, made his way through the ditch and both lines of abatis, deflected the right and ascended the sloping plateau in the direction of the rifle-pits simultaneously with General Blair, and about two hundred yards to his right.

“When General Thayer reached the rifle-pits, after hard fighting and a heavy loss, he found, to his horror, that only the Fourth Iowa had followed him, the wooded nature of the place having prevented his ascertaining it before. Sadly disheartened, with little hope of success, he still pressed forward and fought his way to the second line, at the same time that General Blair reached it on the left. Colonel Williamson’s regiment was fast falling before the concentrated fire of the rebels, and with an anxious heart General Thayer looked around for aid.

“The rebels were forming three full regiments of infantry to move down upon General Thayer, and were massing a proportionately formidable force against Gen. Blair. The rebel infantry and artillery were constantly in full play, and two heavy guns were raking the rifle-pits in several places. With no hope of succor, General Thayer gave the order for a return down the hill and back to his original position. The Fourth Iowa, entering the fight five hundred strong, had lost a hundred and twenty men in less than thirty minutes. It fell back at a quick march, but with its ranks unbroken and without any thing of panic.

“It appears that just at the time General Thayer’s brigade started up the hill, General Morgan sent for a portion of it to support him on the right. General Steele at once diverted the Second Regiment of Thayer’s brigade, which was passing at the time. The Second Regiment being thus diverted, the others followed, in accordance with the orders they had previously received from their commander. Notice of the movement was sent to General Thayer; but, in consequence of the death of the courier, the notification never reached him. This accounts for his being left with nothing save the Fourth Iowa regiment. The occurrence was a sad one. The troops thus turned off were among the best that had yet been in action, and had they been permitted to charge the enemy, they would have won for themselves a brilliant record.