As darkness descended on the camp area, pickets reported to Lieutenant Colonel William H. Graves, Twelfth Michigan, that they could hear movements in the distance. The colonel promptly went to Prentiss’ headquarters to report, and he was told that he “need not be at all alarmed, that everything was alright.”64
During the day, the prisoners from the First Alabama told any and every Northerner who spoke to them that in a few hours the Union army would be destroyed, because the Confederates were about to strike. Most of the curious Federals who spoke to the prisoners passed the matter off as Rebel brag, but far more serious was the situation of one of the Alabamans, who actually was dying of his wounds. The mortally wounded Confederate was friendly with some of Colonel Hildebrand’s relatives, and he expressed a desire to talk to the colonel. The dying man told Hildebrand the Union army would be attacked and surely destroyed within twelve hours. Leaving the dying Confederate, the old colonel trudged over to General Sherman’s headquarters, but the general laughed the matter off. Untroubled by any sense of danger, Sherman soon retired for the night.65
Crippled by his Friday accident, General Grant remained in Savannah. One unpleasant thought intruded on his relaxation, however. Although confident that Johnston would not assault Pittsburg, Grant felt that the Southerners might hazard a sudden descent on Lew Wallace’s isolated Third Division at Crump’s Landing. To prepare for such an eventuality, Grant ordered his Second Division to stand by to move out to Crump’s in the event of a Southern onslaught.66
As Grant, Sherman, and the other Union generals settled down for the night, the Southerners were making their final preparations for their attack, which would come early Sunday morning. By late afternoon all of the Confederate army was in position across the Bark Road, the advance elements within a little more than a mile of the Union picket posts. After the confusion and delay of the march, many of the Southern soldiers considered the element of surprise gone. General Beauregard remarked, “Now they will be entrenched to the eyes.”67
The Creole wished to cancel the attack and return to Corinth. Bragg joined in with the Louisianan, claiming the two days’ delay, added to the poor condition of many of the troops, were too great handicaps to be overcome by an assault now. There was some question as to the size of the Federal force. Colonel Thomas Jordan maintained it numbered less than twenty-five thousand men and twelve batteries. Other officers added comments about the situation, but General Johnston ended all discussions. Maintaining that the Federals were probably unsuspecting, he stated it would be far worse to turn back without fighting than to risk a battle. After the recent disasters in Kentucky and Tennessee, the army must recoup the situation. He added, “We shall attack at daylight tomorrow” and as he walked off, he remarked, “I would fight them if they were a million.”68
Major General Hardee’s Third Army Corps was first in the line of the night camp and in the line of battle. His left was near Owl Creek, and his right across the Bark Road. From left to right Hardee had Brigadier General Pat Cleburne’s command, Brigadier General S. A. M. Wood’s unit, Colonel R. G. Shaver’s, and Brigadier General A. H. Gladden’s brigades, the latter on temporary loan from Bragg’s Corps. The Second Corps was drawn up about eight hundred yards behind Hardee. Brigadier General Jones M. Withers’ Second Division was located to the right of the Bark Road, while Brigadier General Daniel Ruggles’ First Division was to the left. After detaching General Gladden to reinforce Hardee’s right, Withers retained brigadier generals J. R. Chalmers’ and J. K. Jackson’s brigades. Ruggles had the brigades of Colonels Randall Gibson and Preston Pond, Jr., and Brigadier General Patton Anderson. Polk’s First Corps consisted of the brigades of Colonels R. M. Russell and W. H. Stephens and brigadier generals Alexander Stewart and Bushrod Johnson.69
The corps were not assigned a specific section of the Union line to shatter. Instead, Hardee and Bragg were to advance in parallel lines, stretching across a front three miles wide. This was a faulty arrangement, since it would make for confusion when the units became entangled as the battle progressed. In General Johnston’s telegram to President Jefferson Davis informing him of the forthcoming battle, nothing was said about this parallel formation. Instead, the order of attack was given as Polk on the left, Hardee in the center, Bragg on the right, and Breckinridge in reserve. This plan would have been much more efficient, and it would have probably weighted the Confederate right so as to make more likely the Confederate plan of securing the Landing.
The Confederate plan was avowedly to turn the Federal left and drive the Union army away from the Landing and against Owl Creek. By seizing the Landing, the Southerners could prevent Buell’s reinforcing Grant. But to accomplish this plan the greatest weight of the Confederate assault should have been concentrated on the Southerners’ right instead of being dispersed all across the battlefield.70
As the sun went down behind the horizon, thousands of Confederate soldiers stood around the newly blossomed dogwood trees, while their muddy officers read to them General Albert Sidney Johnston’s message.71 The text of General Johnston’s message read as follows:
I have put you in motion to offer battle to the invaders of your country. With the resolution and disciplined valor becoming men fighting, as you are, for all worth living or dying for, you can but march to a decisive victory over the agrarian mercenaries sent to subjugate and despoil you of your liberties, property, and honor. Remember the precious stake involved; remember the dependence of your mothers, your wives, your sisters, and your children on the result; remember the fair, broad, abounding land, the happy homes, and the ties that would be desolated by your defeat.
The eyes and the hopes of eight millions of people rest upon you. You are expected to show yourselves worthy of your race and lineage; worthy of the women of the South, whose noble devotion in this war has never been exceeded in any time. With such incentives to brave deeds and with the trust that God is with us, your generals will lead you confidently to the combat, assured of success.72
Strictly forbidden to light fires or make any kind of noise, forty thousand Confederate soldiers squatted, knelt, or laid down in the thick slime covering the entire area, talking quietly over General Johnston’s message and mulling over Sunday’s prospects. Some of the soldiers munched cold rations, but most of them went hungry. The rain had stopped during the afternoon, but most of the Confederates were still at least damp, and thick, slick brown Tennessee mud covered everything. As the soldiers tried to clean their muskets and shotguns, perhaps some of them remembered General Beauregard’s order to shoot low at the enemy’s legs to cause wounded men, who would have to be carried off the battlefield. It was a cheerful thought for the men to try and catch a little sleep with.
The Southerners could hear Union signal guns going off nearby. Federal bands kept the night air sparkling with their jaunty serenades. Finally there was quiet, and most of the exhausted soldiers drifted off to sleep.73
Chapter 7
Surprise
FOR AS LONG AS there have been wars and armies, soldiers have grumbled over the prospect of early morning patrols. On that quiet Sunday morning more than a century ago, the men of the Twenty-fifth Missouri1 and the Twelfth Michigan were no exception. Routed out of their beds sometime after midnight, the troops stumbled around, gathering up their guns, cartridge belts, overcoats, and wadding up their blankets before falling into formation. Why a patrol at this time of night? Some officer was worried about the Rebels, so the enlisted men would have it taken out on them.
The worried officer was Colonel Everett Peabody. Disturbed by the events of Saturday, he decided some kind of large scale reconnaissance was an absolute necessity. Just after midnight, scouts from the Twenty-fifth Missouri led by Major James Powell located a party of Confederate troops several miles from the Union army camped at Pittsburg Landing. Returning from the scout, Powell reported the Confederates’ presence to Peabody. The colonel decided to send Major Powell back with a large enough detachment to ascertain exactly wha
t the Southerners were up to and how many there were.2
Around 3:00 a.m., three companies from the Twenty-fifth Missouri (B, led by Captain Joseph Schmitz; E, Captain Simon F. Evans; H, Captain Hamilton Dill, a Mexican War veteran), plus a detachment from the Twelfth Michigan Infantry pulled out of their encampments and headed out along a farm road that led into the main Corinth-Pittsburg Landing Road. The patrol was Peabody’s own responsibility, and as the men slipped away into the distance down the road, the colonel remarked to an aide that he would not live to see the result of it. He was nearly right—in less than four hours he lay on the battlefield, a bullet through his head.3
The night was “balmy” and “perfectly still.”4 The soldiers had only the pale light of the moon and the faint stars to guide them down the well-worn wagon road. Stumbling in the wagon ruts, and occasionally sinking in the thick layers of Tennessee mud on the “road’s surface,” the two hundred Union volunteers filed slowly down the road in the direction of the state line, unaware of their nearby rendezvous with destiny.5
Progress was slow and halting, the men frequently muttering and cursing after being bumped by the musket barrels of their comrades. Frequently the unlucky troopers straggled off the road into the darkness, or they bogged down in the mud. Upon one occasion a party of Michiganders became confused and almost shot up some of the Twenty-fifth, mistaking them for Confederates.6 The thick clusters of trees along the farm road added to the murky darkness, shutting out what little light there was from the heavens above. Passing just beyond the edge of the Rhea field, Major Powell met Captain A. W. McCormick, of the Seventy-seventh Ohio, who was commanding Colonel Hildebrand’s advance picket post. Telling Captain McCormick of his orders, Major Powell quickly directed his men to resume their march, heading on up the road.7 After more than an hour of marching and cursing, the patrol had moved less than two miles.
In a million homes across America, in the strange semi-light that prevailed in the dawn, there occurred the first gradual stirrings of Sunday morning. Housewives were up, making breakfast gruel or oatmeal, while teenage sons and daughters milked the cows or took care of other household chores in preparation for dressing and making the long trip to Sunday morning services; but along the farm road no one thought of church services or hymn singing. There were no sounds of pots and pans or the gentle lowing of cattle; but, instead, the harsh tramp, tramp, slosh, slosh of men marching.8
Across the skyline the first vague traces of light were appearing. In this misty half-light, the advance of Major Powell’s reconnaissance force suddenly stumbled upon the outpost of the Confederate army. A shot rang out, then a second, and still a third—as the men of Brewer’s Alabama cavalry suddenly realized the Yankees were upon them.
Scrambling to their horses, the Alabamans quickly galloped away in the direction of Major A. B. Hardcastle’s Third Mississippi Battalion on picket duty. To the advancing Federals, the Alabamans appeared to be ghost-like horsemen, moving mysteriously through the trees, a poor target along a musket sight.
Quickly forming in skirmish lines, the Michiganders and Missourians moved forward, firing. Some of the Nationals took cover behind trees, sending heavy rifle balls and slugs crashing into the underbrush after the fleeing cavalrymen. In a matter of seconds, the first action was over, with no casualties, and indeed without most of the men even seeing an enemy. Within moments the Union forces were again advancing, this time straight toward the waiting Mississippians.
Now deployed lengthwise over the road and in the surrounding Fraley Field, the Federals continued their somewhat stumbling advance, cautious, apprehensive, determined not to be surprised. A sudden volley of gunfire rang out as the Yanks approached within a hundred yards of Lieutenant F. W. Hammock’s outpost. The seven Mississippians fired only one round before falling back on the main body of the battalion; then a second sharp volley, as Lieutenant William M. McCulty’s men joined in the fray. The firing was very inaccurate due to poor visibility and the relative inexperience of the Mississippians.
Stealthily moving forward, the cautious Yanks finally collided with the main body of the Confederate advance guard. With a tremendous roar, Hardcastle’s Third Mississippi Battalion unleashed a thunderous but highly inaccurate volley of bullets in the general direction of the advancing Federals.
Lieutenant Colonel J. F. Gilmer, General Albert Sidney Johnston’s chief artillery officer, suddenly found himself caught up in the hazy gunfight. Reconnoitering ahead of the main body to locate suitable artillery positions, Gilmer and his small cavalry escort abruptly found themselves in the line of fire from Major Powell’s patrol. Private Thomas Duncan of the escort watched a young Mississippian go down with his throat ripped open by a Northern musket ball. Then a piece of wood, torn loose by a rifle slug, caught Duncan in the left eye, while a bullet gouged his saber blade. Scurrying back to cover, Private Duncan, Colonel Gilmer, and the rest of their group escaped further damage.9
At two hundred yards’ range, the Yankees and Rebels continued trading tremendous volleys of enthusiastic but poorly aimed gunfire as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon. For some minutes the soldiers fought it out, an occasional man dropping as he exposed himself from behind his tree or fence post. The engagement gradually rocked back and forth, with the Mississippians advancing a little and then falling back. After about an hour of sporadic firing, the Federals decided enough was enough and began slowly pulling back. The continuous firing of almost five hundred men had actually produced less than thirty casualties, a pittance compared to the carnage that would be on this grim day, but it was a start.10
Confederate General Johnston and his staff were just sitting down to a breakfast of cold biscuits and black coffee when the sounds of the Hardcastle-Powell fracas reached their ears. “There,” said Colonel William Preston, “the first gun of the battle.”11 The command to advance was given, but to relay the order to the various brigades required many precious minutes. General Johnston briefly chatted with the still unenthusiastic General Beauregard, explaining that he planned to accompany the forward line of advance. Johnston requested that Beauregard manage things in the rear. Mounting his horse Fire-eater, Johnston set his spurs and rode forward toward the slowly but steadily increasing sound of gunfire.12
Several times General Johnston paused in his ride to give out friendly admonitions to the slowly advancing Confederates. To one of his officers, an old acquaintance of the Mormon campaign days back in Utah, General Johnston paused to remark, “My son, we must this day conquer or perish.”13 Perhaps the general’s mind wandered for a second or two, dwelling on the beauty of the early Sunday morning, with the trees beginning to bud and the faint delicate fragrance of the peach blossoms wafting across the field.
Located on the left side of the Corinth-Pittsburg Road, Brigadier General Sterling Wood’s Third Brigade moved forward in obedience to the order to attack. General Wood sent Captain William Clare to tell Major Hardcastle to hold his position along the road until the brigade could move up in support. It was around 6:30 a.m. before the brigade reached the position of the first big skirmish.
The muddy and excited Mississippians were ordered back into line and the Eighth Arkansas Infantry and Ninth Arkansas Infantry Battalion were ordered forward to take the Mississippians’ place as skirmishers. His new dispositions completed, General Wood again ordered his brigade to advance, as Colonel R. G. Shaver, acting commander of the First Brigade, moved up on his right.14
Pickets of the Sixteenth Wisconsin watched as Major Powell’s predawn patrol passed their post. Just after dawn sounds of gunfire caused the officer of the day to direct the pickets to fall back on the reserves. Within minutes Company A was completely assembled and on the road toward the sound of firing.15
At divisional headquarters, reports of the firing caused General Prentiss to order the division to stand by. A little after 6:00, a courier reached Prentiss’ command post with word of Powell’s repulse. The Sixth Division’s commander immediately ordered Colonel Peabod
y to reinforce the beleaguered Powell. Within minutes Colonel David Moore was moving forward with five companies of the Twenty-first Missouri. The Missourians double-quicked it up the road, bayonets and cartridge boxes wildly rattling.
Spying the lone Wisconsin company, Colonel Moore told them, “You can fall in on the right or on the left of my regiment,” and the Badger State’s company commander, Captain Edward Saxe, pulling off his uniform coat and throwing it on the ground in the mud, yelled, “Boys, we will fall in on the right; we will head them out.”16
Near the Seay cotton field Colonel Moore ran into Major Powell and the remnants of his force, including a goodly number of wounded, and the colonel castigated Powell’s men as cowards for retreating. Major Powell and his soldiers attempted to warn the gallant but somewhat overly enthusiastic colonel to be cautious, but with limited effect.17 Ordering those of Powell’s group who were not actually carrying wounded to join up with his command, Colonel Moore, with his collection of bits and pieces of regiments, soon moved forward in the direction of the advancing Confederates. He did take the precaution of sending Lieutenant Henry Menn to tell Lieutenant Colonel Humphrey Woodyard to bring up the remaining five companies of the regiment and join him on the road.18
According to General Benjamin Prentiss, Colonel Moore sent him a courier saying he had found Johnston’s army and asked, “If you will send the balance of my regiment to me, by thunder, I will lick them.”19
As soon as Woodyard, with General Prentiss’ permission, arrived with the five additional companies, Colonel Moore again moved forward, but before he had gone even a quarter of a mile he found Johnston’s army, or at least the advance elements of it.
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