Showing posts with label Fort Donelson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fort Donelson. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2024

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Tuesday, February 25, 1862

I left home* to rejoin the battalion near Murfreesboro. After a ride of nineteen miles I, with several others of Allison's Company, stopped for the night with Colonel E. S. Smith's Battalion, within two miles of Murfreesboro.

I will here pause to make a few remarks in reference. to the movements of the Confederates at other points.

Fort Henry, on the Tennessee River, fell into the hands of the Federals on February 6th. General Grant, making Fort Henry his base of operations, moved against Fort Donelson on the Cumberland River.

General Buckner, with about nine thousand five hundred rank and file, surrendered the latter place to Grant on the 16th.

About this time the Confederates at Bowling Green, Kentucky, fell back to Nashville before General Buell. By the 23d the last of the Confederate troops evacuated the latter place, falling back to Murfreesboro.

Nashville was formally surrendered by the Mayor to General Buell on the 25th of February.

So I found quite a number of infantry, cavalry and artillery at Murfreesboro under the command of General Albert Sidney Johnston.

That portion of Johnston's army which was now with him at Murfreesboro, and known as the Central Army, was composed of three divisions, commanded respectively by Major-Generals Hardee, Crittenden and Pillow, and one "reserve" brigade under Brigadier-General Breckinridge. Each division was composed of two brigades, making a total of seven brigades.

Bennett's Battalion, which was afterward consolidated with McNairy's, belonged to Hindman's Brigade and Hardee's Division.

_______________

*The last time I saw home until June 3d, 1865.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 133-4

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Sunday, February 16, 1862

By daylight all of Colonel Statham's Brigade had crossed Caney Fork except a few wagons. Before night General Carroll's Brigade, except two regiments (Stanton's1 and Murray's, that were yet behind), had crossed. Four companies of McNairy's Battalion were still on the east side of Caney Fork waiting for those other two regiments.

Seven regiments of Crittenden's Division had crossed and moved out in the direction of Nashville by the way of Lebanon. Allison's company was still boarding among the citizens near Trousdale's Ferry.

The following explains itself:

HEADQUARTERS Western DEPARTMENT,       

Edgefield, February 17th, 1862.

 

Major-General Crittenden, Commanding Chestnut Mound:

 

General Johnston directs you to move your command to Murfreesboro (instead of Nashville) without delay. Press all the wagons you need. Fort Donelson has fallen, and General Floyd's army is captured after a gallant defense.

 

Respectfully,

W. W. MACKALL.2

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1 Stanton belonged to Statham's Brigade.

2 Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., p. 889.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 132-3

Lieutenant Colonel William W. Mackall to Major-General George B. Crittenden, February 17, 1862

HEADQUARTERS WESTERN DEPARTMENT,        
Edgefield, February [17, 1862].
Major-General CRITTENDEN,
        Commanding Chestnut Mound:

General Johnston directs you to move your command to Murfreesborough (instead of Nashville) without delay. Press all the wagons you need. Fort Donelson has fallen, and General Floyd's army is captured after a gallant defense.

Respectfully,
W. W. MACKALL.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 7 (Serial No. 7), p. 889

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 1, 1863

We have spent three days in front of the enemy, and, notwithstanding the fact that we have been under the fire of one of their batteries and of their sharp-shooters all of the time, the Forty-first has not lost a single man. Yesterday we were out on picket, and were compelled to lie behind logs to prevent the enemy's sharp-shooters from picking us off. We lay in this position for twenty-four hours. Half of the time the rain was pouring down in torrents, but at day-light the rain closed, and the weather changed to freezing cold. We certainly passed a very disagreeable time during this day, for if we attempted to straighten our frozen and cramped limbs by rising to the erect position, the instant bang and whiz of a minnie-bullet about our ears proved the experiment was dangerous. [Donelson repeated.] I noticed that some of our fighting men at home were the first to get behind some convenient log and the last to leave its friendly shelter. As for myself, I make no pretensions to bravery at home or abroad, and I freely acknowledge that I laid very close to my log. The fact is, a bullet, which whistles like it had a shuck tied to it, does not give out a very musical sound to my ears.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 16-7

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, January 18, 1862

It was said that another picket skirmish on the north side of the river resulted in the killing of two of our men and one of the enemy.

It rained nearly all day.

General Buell ordered General Thomas, on December 29th, to move from Lebanon by the way of Columbia upon Zollicoffer's left flank, while General Schoepf was to move upon his front from Somerset. On the 30th Thomas replied thus:

Have made arrangements to move as light as possible, and hope to get started to-morrow, although with raw troops and raw mules I fear there will be some difficulty.1

The advance of Thomas's division arrived yesterday at Logan's Cross Roads, about ten miles north of Crittenden's intrenched position (Beech Grove), and within eight miles of Somerset, where he halted for the rear to close up and to communicate with Schoepf.

Late that afternoon our commander wrote the following dispatch to A. S, Johnston, Bowling Green, Kentucky:

HEADQUARTERS, BEECH GROVE KENTUCKY,        

January 18, 1862.

 

SIR: I am threatened by a superior force of the enemy in front, and finding it impossible to cross the river I will have to make the fight on the ground I now occupy.

 

If you can do so I would ask that a diversion be made in my favor. I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

 

G. B. CRITTENDEN,        

Major-General Commanding.

 

To the Assistant Adjutant-General, Headquarters Department of the West.2

 

It appears from the above dispatch that Crittenden then expected to remain in his intrenchments and await the attack of the enemy, but he afterward decided to move out and attack them.

_______________

1 Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., p. 524.

2 Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., p. 103.

The above dispatch was handed to General Zollicoffer (he being better acquainted with the troops) with the request to start it at once by couriers. He immediately sent to Captain T. M. Allison for a reliable, well mounted man. Accordingly, C. F. Thomas (Company E) was ordered to go to Mill Springs (one mile), cross the river and report to Zollicoffer. Leaving camp about sunset, Thomas did as requested. Handing him the dispatch, Zollicoffer said: “I want you to take this to General Sidney Johnston, at Bowling Green, and this," handing him another addressed to an officer at Memphis, "you will mail at Gallatin. Take one good man with you and make the trip through to Bowling Green as quick as you possibly can." Recrossing the river, Thomas was soon back in our camp again. He selected to go with him on that venturesome trip John D. McLin, who was then his messmate, and is now (1886) editor of the weekly Nashville American.

 

Swinging themselves into the saddle, Thomas and McLin set out on their daring trip about ten o'clock that night—to use Thomas's own language, “One of the darkest and muddiest I ever saw." They went down the south side of the river. They were not only in danger of meeting Federal scouts and home guards, but also of being shot from the bushes by "bush-whackers." They would sometimes have to travel miles out of their way in order to deceive the home guards, and other times they would pass themselves off to some good old lady as good "Union soldiers." They rode two days and nights, stopping only two or three times for a few moments to feed their horses.

 

Late in the afternoon of the 20th they crossed the Cumberland at Williams' Ferry. Their horses were so fatigued by this time by constant riding through deep mud that they had to stop and let them rest; therefore they put up for the night with one Mr. Williams.

 

With very great surprise and bewilderment did they learn next morning (21st) that neither of their horses was able to travel, having eaten too much corn during the previous night.

 

Seeing that our boys were in distress, and fully realizing the situation, Mr. Williams, who happened to be a kind, generous, noble-hearted Southern man, happily came to their relief by ordering a servant to bring out a span of fine, fat, gray geldings. As soon as they were brought out and saddled Mr. Williams said, Here, boys, take these horses and keep them as long as you need them, and ride them as hard as you please." After returning heart-felt thanks to their kind host for such a great and unexpected favor from a stranger, offered, too, with such a free good-will, the boys leaped into their saddles and pressed on to Gallatin that day. Here they had expected to take the cars for Bowling Green, but in this they were disappointed. The cars had been taken from that road and were then running in the interest of Fort Donelson, which was now threatened by a heavy Federal force.


After mailing the dispatch addressed to Memphis and holding a "council of war," they decided that McLin should remain at Gallatin, while Thomas should get a fresh horse and proceed alone, as they felt that they were now out of danger of home guards and "bush-whackers." Accordingly Thomas set out from Gallatin early on the morning of the 22d, and arriving at Bowling Green about dark the same day, handed the dispatch to General Johnston, who had just received another dispatch announcing the defeat of Crittenden at Fishing Creek. Starting back next morning Thomas rejoined McLin at Gallatin. Returning now at their leisure, and finding their horses all right on arriving at Mr. Williams' they exchanged horses, and finally rejoined their command at Chestnut Mound.

 

I shall here mention another incident in which the two above named took part. It occurred while they were at home on furlough in August, 1863, as follows:


Captain S. Y. Barkley, who lived (and does now) sixteen miles East of Murfreesboro on the pike leading from that place, by the way of Hall's Hill to Liberty, learned late one evening that a small squad of Federals had passed along the pike going in the direction of Liberty. After a ride of about six miles in the direction of Statesville he found C. F. Thomas and John D. McLin at Jim B. Thomas' (C. F's. father). Notwithstanding it was now dark and raining, these three daring riders set out immediately in pursuit of the enemy. About one o'clock A. M., the next morning, they arrived at Auburn, where they learned that two Federals had passed that place going in the direction of Liberty. On learning at Mr. Matthew Wilson's, about two miles beyond Auburn, that the enemy had not passed there, our boys turned and went back to Mr. A. Owen's, where they learned that the Federals had gone about one mile from the pike and put up for the night with one Mr. A. Lax. Our boys drew rein about dawn at Mr. Lax's barn. The old man Lax, who soon came out to feed, was captured first. Next one of the Federals came out to the barn and was made prisoner without the fire of a gun. Leaving the two prisoners in care of Thomas, Barkley and McLin went to the house, where they found the other soldier still asleep. On rousing him up and demanding his surrender, he very coolly remarked, while rubbing his eyes open, "Well, I wish you had let me get my nap out." Taking their horses and arms (and they were well mounted, well armed, and well supplied with ammunition), our boys turned their prisoners loose on parole.

 

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 110-3

Thursday, November 11, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, February 8, 1863

This morning the boys remain in their bunks unmindful of reveille, showing a determination to obtain some sleep and rest after the two days, trip to the mills. No news came with this evening's mail and everything seems quiet and dull in and around Corinth. During the latter part of this month, (February) nothing of note occurs, and also during the month of March a dull monotnoy prevails in the camp of the Seventh, Colonel Babcock having been for some time president of the Military Commission in session at Corinth, for reasons best known to himself resigns his colonelcy of the Serenth regiment and leaves the service; and we all regret to see him leave for he has been to us a good, brave and faithful officer. The following testimonial from his companions in arms will speak for itself.

Whereas, Colonel Andrew J. Babcock has resigned his commission as Colonel of the Seventh regiment of Illinois Infantry Volunteers, and we the officers and men of the Seventh having been long under his command, both appreciate his worth and deeply regret his separation from us, therefore be it

Resolved, That in Colonel A. J. Babcock the state of Illinois and the army of the United States have lost a brave, competent and meritorious officer.

Resolved, That we, who have for nearly two years been associated with him in his duties, in the garrison and in the field, through many toilsome marches and in the hard fought battles of Donelson and Corinth, bear witness that he has proved himself a most daring, discreet and loyal leader; and that in the execution of his office, as well as his personal bearing, he has won not only the confidence and respect but also the esteem and affection of all his command.

Resolved, That as Colonel Babcock from the first organization of the first regiment of Illinois-from the opening of the war to the present date, has proved himself before us, as a commander most efficient—as a man and a brother in arms at once just, genial and generous, we sincerely hope and trust that his affairs may again permit the government to avail itself of his invaluable services in the field; and should such be the case, it will be our highest happiness to be again associated with him in the service of our common country.

R. L. METCALF, Pres.,
Surgeon Serenth Ill. Inft.,
J. S. ROBINSON, Secretary,
        Adjutant.

As the Colonel leaves us we remember those wintry days of battle on the Cumberland hills before Fort Donelson, and how with the private soldiers he endured the battle's privations there; and how amid smoke and flame he led the Seventh on to glorious victory. We also remember how he moved upon Corinth's bloody field and proved himself a leader true, when darkness and gloom seemed to mantle the Seventh's brave soldiers. May he on his return to civil life receive tokens of gratitude from Illinois' grateful people.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 142-4

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, October 14, 1862

This morning our camp is staked off, and we take our position and stake our tents. Our brigade now consists of the Seventh, Fiftieth and Fifty-seventh Illinois, and the Twenty-second and Eighty-first Ohio, commanded by Colonel A. J. Babcock, of the Seventh. There is a commotion in the Second Division. The Cincinnati Commercial, with W. D. B.'s lying communication, villifying and basely misrepresenting the heroic Second Division, who so bravely stemmed the current of battle on Corinth's sanguinary field, has been circulated. The heroes of Belmont, Fort Donelson and Shiloh rage to-night, and adding still more to this correspondent's villification, comes the congratulatory address of General Rosecrans, with the following remarkable passage : "I desire especially to offer my thanks to General Davies and his Division, whose magnificent fighting on the third more than atones for all that was lacking on the fourth.” As a defense, we will simply transcribe the circular of “Justice," written by a soldier of the Second Division, which gives a clear exposition of facts relative to the history of the Second Division in the two day's battle at Corinth:

“They did fail to do what they should have done, namely: there were captured by the whole army of Rosecrans, two thousand two hundred and sixty-eight prisoners, and the Second Division (Davies'), captured only one thousand four hundred and sixty of that number, mostly on the fourth; they should have captured the whole. Then again the whole army captured fourteen stand of colors; Davies' Division captured ten of these on the fourth; they should have taken all! They fought Van Dorn and Price's army on the third, alone, and whipped them. This was right. On the fourth they fought with others and whipped the enemy; they should have done it alone and would have done so but for the giving may of troops on the right flank-names I will not mention. Now, the Second Division well know they should have done all these things alone, and they must throw themselves upon the clemency of a forgiving country. The throbbing patriot's heart will

have some sympathy, and the facts will atone for the short-comings of the Second Division when they are told that they went into action on the third with two thousand nine hundred and twenty-five officers and men, the balance of the Division being detailed in and about Corinth. Loss, seventy-five officers; total loss, one thousand and four. Forgive these “lacking and erring boys of the Northwest, for next time they will try and do better.”

We remain in this camp, uninterrupted until November the 2d, when we are ordered inside the fortifications, the greater portion of the troops having left on an expedition southward. It is said our Division will remain and garrison Corinth for awhile. Our regiment is now camped close to Corinth, on the old battle field of October the 4th, and the probability is that we will remain here for some time, and in view of these indications, the Seventh is soon at work fixing up its quarters, building chimneys and fire places; and making general preparations for the approaching cold weather. The Seventh having its complement of mechanics, it is not long until the quarters are made quite comfortable, and as we look along the officers’ line this evening we behold a neat row of chimneys, the work of the genial and accommodating “General Grant” of Company K. Of course the officers will all vote the General their hearty thanks.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 118-20

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, October 2, 1862

Troops are moving to-day in almost every direction. It seems that the old Second Division is collecting together for some forward movement. This evening the command receives marching orders; ordered to have prepared two day's cooked rations in haversacks, also to move with two hundred rounds of cartridges to the man, forty in the cartridge box, and the remaining one hundred and sixty to be hauled in the wagons. These orders to the Seventh, we are inclined to think, mean business. There is certainly a storm coming. God only knows how soon the terrible din will be heard; only knows how soon there will be a rattle of musketry and a clash of steel; when more blood will flow, more hearts will bleed, and more tears will fall. If such days come again, throwing around these stout hearts war's fierce realities, may the spirit of the great Jehovah control the wrathful storms and nerve the Union soldier, that he may not falter.

PROMOTIONS. Up to this date the following promotions have been made in the regiment, for meritorious services performed in battle at Fort Donelson:

Colonel John Cook to be Brigadier General.

Lieutenant Colonel A. J. Babcock to be Colonel, vice Cook, promoted.

Major R. Rowett to be Lieutenant Colonel, vice Babcock, promoted.

Captain Monroe to be Major, vice Rowett, promoted.

Adjutant B. F. Smith promoted to Captain and A. A. G., on General Cook's staff.

Second Lieutenant Newton Francis to be First Lieutenant of Company I, vice Johnson, promoted.

First Lieutenant Newton Francis to be Adjutant, vice Smith, promoted.

First Sergeant Thomas McGuire to be Second Lieutenant of Company A, vice Renick, resigned.

Second Lieutenant Thomas McGuire to be First Lieutenant of Company A, vice Kimball, resigned.

First Sergeant Ben. Sweeney to be Second Lieutenant of Company A, vice McGuire, promoted.

First Lieutenant Hector Perrin to be Captain of Company B, vice Monroe, promoted.

Second Lieutenant O. D. Ells to be First Lieutenant of Company B, vice Perrin, promoted.

First Lieutenant Edward S. Johnson to be Captain of Company I, vice Mendell, killed.

First Sergeant John E. Sullivan to be Second Lieutenant of Company I, vice Francis, promoted.

Second Lieutenant John E. Sullivan to be First Lieutenant of Company I, vice Francis, promoted.

First Sergeant Joseph S. Fisher to be Second Lieutenant of Company I, vice Sullivan, promoted.

For meritorious service performed at Shiloh :

Sergeant George W. Wheeler to be Captain of Company A, vice Ward, killed.

Second Lieutenant J. L. Ring to be First Lieutenant of Company H, vice Myres, killed.

First Sergeant Thomas J. Pegram to be Second Lieutenant of Company H, vice Ring, promoted.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 88-90

Sunday, May 9, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: July 4, 1862

[O]ur regiment receives a new stand of colors. The colors we carried through the battles of Fort Donelson and Shiloh are now so mutilated that we are unable to carry them any longer. They will be sent to Springfield to be laid away in their glory, and while they thus rest from battle and storm, back with Illinois' great loyal people, may they ever remember as they gaze upon its hallowed ribbons, the noble ones who went down while its rents and scars were being made; whose lamps of life flickered out while wrathful storms were sweeping along the shores of the Cumberland and the Tennessee, and over the fields of Mississippi; remember that while it was swung in its glory the noble hearts of Captains Mendell and Ward, Lieutenants Myres and Estabrook, Sergeants Wheeler and Mitchell, Corporals William Boring, Seth Hamilton and Nixon, Privates Charles Newton, John Fifer, Andrew McKennon, John Teft, Richard Lamherdt, Isaac Britton, John H. Duff, John Gibland, Ole Porter, Peter Miller, John H. Hopper and others ceased their loyal throbbings for ever. They loved that old banner, made so hallowed on fields of blood. It was the pride of their hearts; for it they lived, for it they died. Those shot-riven folds will speak to the loyal people in a silent language, telling them a thrilling story—a story, the letters of which have been written in blood. We send them back to the good people from whence they came, hoping that the story they tell will find an entrance into their loyal hearts and cause it to start a tear to the memory of those who went down beneath its folds.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 82-3

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, September 21, 1862

It is reported to-day that Price has been beaten, and is now making a flank movement towards Corinth. Soon we are ordered to Corinth, and there we lay in line of battle all day; but no Price comes, and we return to camp in the evening. Dispatches from Rosecrans inform us this evening that he has routed Price. Praises for Rosecrans and the noble Fifth Iowa come from every one. The Illinois soldiers can ever find it in their hearts to speak words of praise about their brothers from Iowa, especially when like the Fifth who maintained such a desperate bayonet charge to save their colors from falling into the hands of the rebels. Right here we would say that the Seventh Illinois Veteran Volunteer Infantry will not soon forget the Seventh and Second Iowa, starting in the service together, fighting side by side in the assault on Fort Donelson, together carrying their flag in the thickest of the battle, camping side by side on the weary march. They seemed to each other as brothers, for brothers they were, fighting in one common cause to keep the old flag on its staff, and to-day there are men in the Seventh that would fling their coats for a fight, should they hear any one speak disparagingly of the Seventh and Second Iowa infantry. They are camped now some where around Corinth, but we do not know exactly where; however, we remember them, and we imagine when the war is over, and when peace comes back to her people, should a soldier from the Seventh Illinois Infantry meet one from the Seventh or Second Iowa Infantry, who fought with him at Donelson, it will be a congenial meeting, and if he does not treat him as a gentleman it may be marked down as a fact that he does not understand the business.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 86-7

Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Diary of Caroline Cowles Richards: February 17, 1862

Glorious news from the war today. Fort Donelson is taken with 1,500 rebels. The right and the North will surely triumph!

SOURCE: Caroline Cowles Richards, Village Life in America, 1852-1872, p. 138

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, April 6, 1862

It is now move ing [sic]—a beautiful Sabbath morning. The dews have gone to heaven and the stars have gone to God; the sky is all inlaid with crimson, far away to the east. From behind the eastern hills the sun is peering; it is moving on its path. But ere it has long illumed the sky, war's dread tocsin is heard; the sullen roar of artillery breaks upon our ears, telling to us that the storm-king of battle would ride upon the banks of the Tennessee to-day. The army of the Tennessee springs to arms to meet the advancing columns of Albert Sidney Johnson. The pennons are now flying. Major Rowett and the Seventh are quickly buckled for the conflict. Her old, tattered and shot-riven flag goes flying through the woods, and the regiment is soon in the conflict. Their position is now behind a rail fence. Oh! the angry tempest that rolls around here! Belching cannons, shotted to the muzzle, are now plowing deep lanes in the Union ranks. How can we describe the sound of a storm of grape and canister, cutting their hellish paths through serried ranks of human beings. It is impossible. Many are the storms flying around the Seventh now. Thicker and faster they come, but those noble men who bore that riddled flag over Fort Donelson's walls, struggle on. Many have breathed quickly, and, trampled under their comrades' feet, have rolled in bloody agonies and now lie in quiet eternal slumber. The mighty armies are now struggling—struggling desperately for the life or death of a nation.

Fiercer and fiercer rages the battle. The great Grant is moving on the field with a mighty power. But fearful odds are against us, and the army of the Tennessee is compelled to yield position after position. The Seventh has been forced to yield many points to-day; at one time being so far in the advance, we were left without support, and had it not been for the quick perception of our gallant Major, we would have been cut off and captured. Forming columns by divisions, we retreated from our critical position, and were compelled to fall back across an open field. It was a trying time. The harsh, fierce barking of the dogs of war made the earth tremble, as if in the midst of a convulsion. But there was no confusion in the Seventh-no panic there. Led by the brave Rowett, they moved firmly, as if to say, that shot-pierced flag, tattered and torn, shall not go down to-day. Major Rowett, with the aid of Captain Monroe, acting Major now form a new line with the Seventh. War's ruthless machine is moving with a relentless force.

It is now past noon. Confusion reigns; brave men are falling like rain drops. All seems dark—seems that the Union army will be crushed by this wild sweep of treason. But on the crippled army of the Tennessee struggles; they still keep the flag up. It is now four o'clock. Step by step the army is being driven back towards the river. The old Union banner seems to be drooping in the wrathful storm, but by an almost superhuman effort the tide is checked. For a while there is a lull in the battle, but only to make preparations for the last desperate assault-an assault in which the enemy expect to see the old flag come down to their feet.

Buell is said to be approaching; he is hourly expected. Grant is now seen moving with a care-worn countenance, He moves amid the carnage to form his last grand line one-fourth mile from the Tennessee, where the advance is now driven. Grant's last line is formed. It is a line of iron, a line of steel, a wall of stout hearts, as firm, as powerful as Napoleon under like reverses ever formed in the days of his imperial power. It seems almost impossible for such a line to be formed at this hour 50 compact. On every available spot of earth an iron-lipped monster frowns. It is a trying moment, for Grant knows and his army knows that should this line be broken, the battle would be lost and the proud flag would be compelled to fall. At half-past four o'clock Grant dashes through the woods. His voice rings out: “They come! they come! Army of the Tennessee stand firm!” A breathless silence pervades these serried ranks, until broken by the deafening crash of artillery. The last desperate struggle on Sunday evening now commences. One hundred brazen guns are carrying terror and death across Shiloh's plain. The Seventh is at its place; every officer and soldier is at his post; Rowett and Monroe are at their stations, now on foot; (Rowett's horse killed in former charge; Monroe's disabled.) All the company officers are in their places, cheering and encouraging their gallant men, and as we gaze upon the bristling bayonets that are gleaming along the Seventh's line, we know that every brawny arm that is beneath them will be bared to shield the old flag. The infantry are clashing now, but this line of stout hearts stands firm. The traitor hosts grow desperate; the earth trembles; the sun is hid behind the wrathful smoke, but amid all the deafening battle elements of the darkened field, the flag and its defenders stand. Down beneath its shadow brave men are falling to close their eyes in glory. The storm still increases in its sweeping power. About five o'clock the issue becomes doubtful; each seems to hold the balance, and like Napoleon at Waterloo, who prayed that night or Blucher would come, so we prayed that night or the army of Ohio would come. About this time, Albert Sidney Johnson poured out his life-blood upon the altar of a vain ambition. At that fatal hour the enemy's lines waver, and the sun goes down with the army of the Tennessee standing victorious on their last great line.

Night comes, and with it Buell comes, but only in time to witness the closing scene on Sunday evening. We thanked God for the arrival of the army of the Ohio, but we never thanked God for Don Carlos Buell when he rode across the Tennessee and spoke lightly of the great Grant, who had successfully stemmed the wildest storm of battle that ever rolled upon the American continent.

The sable curtains have now fallen, closing to our eyes the terrible scene. Soon it commences to rain. Dark, dark night for the army of the Tennessee. Many brave men are sleeping silently. They have fought their last battle. Fearful, desolating war has done a desperate work. Noble men have thrown themselves into the dread ordeal, and passed away. The human pen will fail to picture the battle-field of Shiloh as it presented itself on Sunday night. The Seventh, tired and almost exhausted, drops down on the ground, unmindful of the falling rain, to rest themselves. Ere it was noon some of the Seventh had already lain down to rest, and ere it was night others laid down, but it was an eternal rest-the soldier's last slumber. Disastrous war has wrapped its winding sheet around the cold form of many a fond mother's boy, and before many days there will be weeping in the lonely cottage homes; weeping for the loved and lost who are now sleeping beneath the tall oaks on the banks of the Tennessee. About the noble men of the Seventh who fell to-day, we will speak hereafter; we shall not forget them. How could we forget them, when they have played their part so well in the great tragedy?

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 49-54

Thursday, August 20, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, March 1, 1862

We leave Nashville; descend the river, and return to Clarksville, where we are again quartered in the old tobacco factory. We still find Clarksville a very congenial locality, notwithstanding the citizens' hearts are with the South in its struggle for “Empire.” We remain here until Friday, when the Seventh for the second time leaves Clarksville and the old tobacco factory. Marching on board the steamer E. H. Fairchild, we are soon descending the Cumberland. As we pass Fort Donelson, we are reminded that over on those hills, and in those ravines brave men sleep—sleep as martyrs for freedom. As we glide quietly down beneath the shadow of the projecting cliffs, we imagine that a voice comes from those hills and ravines, saying to us in the language of the poet:

“Ye harvesters, rally from mountain and valley,
And reap the fields we have won;
We sowed for endless years of peace,
We harrowed and watered well;
Our dying deeds are the scattered seeds,
Shall they perish where they fell?

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 45

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, April 5, 1862

Nothing of note has occurred to relieve the monotony of camp life. There is now a large army concentrated here. Far away on the hills and in the ravines the tents and the soldiers are seen. Up to this time we have had consid[er]able rain. The roads and by-ways into the camps are cut up terribly. It is with difficulty that the Seventh keeps above mud and water. Vague rumors are afloat this evening to the effect that Albert Sidney Johnson is moving towards the Tennessee with his entire command; however, not much credit is attached to it. But we may anticipate days of desperate strife—days of fire and carnage in Tennessee, for no doubt there has been or is being a concentration of the rebel armies under Johnson and Beauregard, with headquarters at Corinth, Mississippi, twenty-five miles from Pittsburg Landing. Their hopes are no doubt beating high for revenge upon Grant's army, in consideration of the blow wielded against them, in those stormy days of battle around Fort Donelson.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 47-8

Sunday, August 9, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, February 18, 1862

This morning a fatigue party is detailed from the Seventh to help bury the dead on the battle field, and those who died from wounds received in battle, who are now lying in every house in Dover (a small village on the banks of the Cumberland inside the fortifications). All day yesterday the fatigue parties were engaged burying the noble slain. War is indeed a mad machine, terrible in its work.

Silently extended on the gory main,
The fallen warriors mid the carnage lay;
No hand was there to ease the racking pain,
And staunch the life blood ebbing fast away.

But when the old flag comes home to Tennessee, over the Union soldiers' graves will be built up all that their posterity shall desire of order and government.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 42-3

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday Morning, February 22, 1862

[W]e land at Clarksville, Tennessee, forty miles above Fort Donelson. After landing, the regiment is quartered in an old tobacco factory, which seems to please those who smoke, for there is a superabundance of the weed stored here. Says one: “This will save our “collaterals?”

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 44

Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, February 17, 1862

This morning the boys in blue are everywhere in and around Fort Donelson, scattered among the boys in gray, rehearsing the scenes they have witnessed, and the trials through which they have passed. Although the Seventh was in the thickest of the battle, as their riddled colors show, their loss is comparatively small. The casualties in the two days' battle around Fort Donelson are as follows:

Company A.— Thomas Crayon, wounded.
Company B.— Private Thomas J. Parish, wounded in left hand; private Edmond P. Mann, wounded.
Company C. — John Brint, wounded in thigh.
Company D. — First Lieutenant James Munn, wounded in face.
Company F. — John Dell, wounded; Rosewell C. Staples, wounded.
Company G. — Jno. H. Dougherty, wounded in arm.
Company H. — Private John D. Turner, wounded in head.
Company I. — Captain Noah E. Mendell, killed; Ole Porter, killed; Corporal William Boring, wounded, leg amputated.
Company K. — John W. Hopper, killed by cannon shot; Corporal Thomas Kirby, wounded severely; Corporal Wallace Smith, wounded slightly; John Rhodes, wounded severely; Julius Wolf, wounded slightly: Dilivan D. Daniels, wounded severely; Winfry Mitchell, wounded slightly; Charles Huffman, wounded severely, leg amputated; Jacob Hoen, wounded slightly. Sum total of casualties, 20.

In looking over the list we notice that company K, the gallant Captain Hunter's company, sustained nearly half the loss in the regiment. Noble old Carlinville company, under its brave leader, made a fearful swing on these fortified hills. We will add no more; their list of casualties speaks for itself. It tells the story more plainly than pen can write it. Though our loss is light, we miss those who have fallen, and those who have been wounded. Among the most distinguished who fell in these wintry days of battle before Fort Donelson will ever appear the name of the brave Captain Noah E. Mendell, of company I. In view of the accident that befell him near Fort Henry, his friends remonstrated with him, and besought him to remain at the rear, but when the order was given “Forward to Fort Donelson," he determined not to be thwarted by anything. Evading the surgeon, who forbade his going, alleging, as was the case, that he was unfit for duty, he pressed on, saying to his gallant First Lieutenant, Edward S. Johnson: “Ed, you take command of the company; I will follow you as long as I have strength.” When he heard the drums beating, and the loud huzzas away on those hills, his heart beat high, and its silent language was, men tell me not to stay; I will go where that old flag goes to-day. Being unable from the injuries received near Fort Henry, to buckle his sword belt around his waist, he buckled it around his neck and followed close in the rear of his company, cheering his men and telling them to stand by their brave, youthful leader, Lieutenant Johnson, who was then commanding the company. But how soon are his hopes dashed down. A whizzing grape comes crashing through the woods and singles him as its victim, entering his head just beneath the right ear, coming out immediately through the center of his left. His death was instantaneous, and he fell with his sword still above his head, with his face lit up with the smile of triumph—a glorious death and such as all brave and patriotic soldiers like him would wish to die—face to face with the enemies of his country. Captain Mendell was born in Blairsville, Pennsylvania, November 4th, 1837, and consequently was in his twenty-fifth year at the time of his death, February 13th, 1862. When the call was made for three months' volunteers he was among the first to offer his services, together with a majority of Captain John Cook's (State Militia) company, denominated the Springfield Zouave Grays, of which he was long a respected member. Upon Captain Cook's promotion to Colonel, Mendell rose to Second Lieutenant, in which capacity he served during the three months' service, at the close of which he was unanimously chosen Captain for the three years' service. He was the only brother of Captain G. H. Mendell, of the United States Topographical Engineers, professor at West Point, whom, with a loving father and sister, he leaves to mourn his early death. He is silently sleeping now. May he sleep well, and may the noble men of his company, should they in coming years pass his grave, tread lightly there and shed a silent tear to his memory; and may every soldier of the Seventh do likewise, remembering that there sleeps the gallant Captain Noah E. Mendell, the first brave soldier of the Seventh who fell in the war for the Union, and the first in Grant's army who fell a victim upon the Union altar before the battlements of Fort Donelson.

Preparations are now being made to send his remains home to be buried in the Springfield cemetery. As a martyr, we give him to the loyal people of Springfield, and the Seventh, especially his noble company, appeals to them in the language of the poetess:

Lay him where the clover blooms,
Let the gallant soldier rest
Where the twilight dews will fall
On his youthful breast.

Lay him where the evening sun
Gives to him her parting ray;
Where the violet droops her head
At the closing day.

Lay him where the midnight star
Sheds o'er him her gentle light;
Where the wood bird's plaintive strain
Serenades the night.

Lay him where the stars and stripes
Will o'er him ever wave';
Where no foe can touch the realm,
For which he died to save.

Lay him where bright angel wings
Will guard his happy sleep ;
Until the Saviour's voice shall call,
May their faithful vigil keep.

Company D has lost for a time their loved and brave-hearted Lieutenant Munn. True to the flag and its fostered principles, he fought valiantly until wounded, when he was compelled to leave the field. We remember when he went bleeding from the hill, when we were making the assault on Saturday evening. He was foremost in the fray, fighting bravely until the battle was waning, when one of the deadly messengers selected him as its prey, inflicting a frightful wound in his face. Heroic soldier! We fear he will battle no more in the cause of human right.

The wounded are now being sent north, and while there, may they receive from the loyal people tokens of gratitude, that will make them feel glad that they stood on the banks of the Cumberland, when the winter winds blew, and when the battle king made his deadly march, causing shot and shell to make a dirge-like music where they stood. We cannot pass without alluding to the noble ones who passed through the battle untouched; who bore the flag through tempest and storm and planted its staff firmly in the ramparts. But how can we distinguish any when all were brave; when all stood so nobly during those fierce hours of battle?

Lieutenant Colonel A. J. Babcock deserves the praise of all. Cool and calm as a placid brook, with a heart that prompted to daring deeds, he led his men through the terrible storm, and as they followed him there was power felt on those hills. He displayed a tact and skill in handling the regiment, forming it at one time under a galling fire, which elicited the commendation of the General commanding. We will not soon forget how often his voice rang out in inspiring tones, and how the Seventh went surging on with him, and how her flag was ofttimes seen, reflecting its light where smoke and red-hot flame belched forth from brazen fronts.

Major Rowett also deserves the plaudits of all. Enthusiastic, but not rash, he was found where all the brave were found. None but could admire his dashso free, so courageous—as he moved with the regiment on those hills with defiance, facing danger and cheering his men on to victory. Says he, since the battle: “I never felt so happy in all my life as when before that rebel battery the first day; happy because I there discovered that I had a heart to face the cannon's mouth, which I did not feel certain of having until then.” Many of the Seventh can speak likewise; can testify that they feel glad in their hearts that they have been tried and not found wanting. Among the brigade commanders none were more conspicuous when the battle was at its highest than our Colonel, John Cook. Amid the terrible storm that rolled from the cannon's angry front he stood. Though death and carnage followed in its wake, making little streams beneath his feet, he faltered not, but with that veteran soldier and brave general, Smith, he moved until the sun went down and the battle storm was hushed.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 36-42

Thursday, July 16, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday Morning, February 12, 1862

There is a clear blue sky over head. Aids and orderlies are moving hither and thither; drums are beating and bugles are blowing as if to say, “Up boys and be ready, for Grant is on his restless steed." The army is soon in motion ; the banners are fluttering, and pennons flying. We look away through the woods and behold their beautiful light streaming around stalwart men. It is early when our brigade (the 3d) commanded by our Colonel, “ John Cook,” moves from camp in the woods near Fort Henry. The Seventh at the appointed time takes up the line of march, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Babcock. The regiment is in fine spirits; the hearts of the men beat high. In their mind's eye they weave wreaths of fame. They seem to foresee themselves crowned with glory. But do they dream that they will see blood flow at their feet; that some of their number will go down in their glory ere the sun makes many more circuits around the world?

A great many regiments have moved on before us. At ten minutes past one o'clock we hear the report of artillery. It comes from the gun-boats on the Cumberland. We move on briskly, and go into camp two miles from Fort Donelson. The siege of this rebel Gibralter has already commenced. The gunboats keep muttering. Echoes come from the river like echoes from wrathful thunder. But by and by the regiment falls asleep on their bed of leaves, and all night long we hear in our dreams the bolts of war, and behold the surge of men in terrible battle.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 30-1

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, February 13, 1862

This is a beautiful still morning, though its stillness is occasionally interrupted by the heavy cannonading on the Cumberland. After hastily eating our breakfast, we are ordered into line.

Soon Colonel Babcock gives the command “forward !” Going a short distance we are ordered to “halt !” “unsling knapsacks!” “draw overcoats !" We throw them in the fence corners, and move forward on double-quick time. Soon we are in the fray. While marching over a hill and down towards a ravine, the Seventh encounters a masked battery. It is our first encounter-our initiation. But oh, how fierce! we are only seventy-five yards from the battery's wrathful front. Grape and canister fall thick and fast. There is a little hesitation, but with their gallant Colonel and enthusiastic Major, the men stand the tempest. Colonel Babcock, with his quick perception, discovers at once the situation of his regiment, and with the ready aid of Major Rowett, succeeds in making a flank movement, passing from the rebel battery's immediate front to a more congenial locality. In this, our first engagement, one noble soldier has fallen. It seems almost a miracle that more did not fall. But only one went down—the gallant Captain Noah E. Mendell, of company I.

The principal fighting to-day has been done by the sharp-shooters. There is a lull now. Nothing is heard save an occasional shot from the gunboats. Darkness has come and we bivouac for the night; soon it commences to rain; then changes from a cold rain to sleet and snow. Oh! how cold the winter winds blow. We dare not build any camp fires, for Grant's edict has wisely gone forth, forbidding it. The soldiers suffer to-night. Some of them have no blankets. During the latter part of the night, Colonel Babcock, with his men, could have been seen pacing up and down a hill to keep from freezing. Oh! what a long cheerless night; and with what anxiousness the soldiers wait for the morning's dawn.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 31-2

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, February 14, 1862

Never was morning light more welcome than this morning's light is to the army of the Tennessee, for with it comes the camp fires. Everywhere, on the hills and in the ravines, their cheering light is seen. But the soldiers are still suffering. Their blankets are frozen, their clothes are wet. They stand everywhere shivering around the camp fires. It is still raining and sleeting, (having changed from sleet and snow). The loyal hearts would start tears of love, could they see how this mighty army is thus standing down on the banks of the Cumberland, with not a murmur heard to escape them. Imagining myself not one of these, but imagining myself disinterested, that I may be freed from accusations of egotism, I would say that manhood stands here—men of fidelity; men of unexampled devotion to the country, the flag and freedom. But how sad the fact to know that there are some who would know it not. Though it is cold, and the winds blow, and the soldiers are suffering, it is not long until the firing commences. We are now in range of the rebel batteries. The cannon balls are flying over our heads, snapping off the tree tops, and performing general havoc in the woods.

We are now remaining at a stand, in rear of the fort, and while here we hear heavy cannonading in the direction of the Cumberland. It is the gun-boats feeling Fort Donelson's strength. The sharp-shooters are doing their work. They greatly annoy the enemy by keeping them from their guns. No general fighting to-day, but the siege goes bravely on.

It is night now. It bids fair to be one of winter's cold, rayless nights; no moon, no stars are seen. Dark, threatening clouds, fling their curtains adown the sky, telling the boys in blue that they will suffer.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 32-3