Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant — Volume 1

Volume one begins:

CHAPTER I.

ANCESTRY--BIRTH--BOYHOOD.

My family is American, and has been for generations, in all its

branches, direct and collateral.

Mathew Grant, the founder of the branch in America, of which I am a

descendant, reached Dorchester, Massachusetts, in May, 1630. In 1635 he

moved to what is now Windsor, Connecticut, and was the surveyor for that

colony for more than forty years. He was also, for many years of the

time, town clerk. He was a married man when he arrived at Dorchester,

but his children were all born in this country. His eldest son, Samuel,

took lands on the east side of the Connecticut River, opposite Windsor,

which have been held and occupied by descendants of his to this day.

I am of the eighth generation from Mathew Grant, and seventh from

Samuel. Mathew Grant's first wife died a few years after their

settlement in Windsor, and he soon after married the widow Rockwell,

who, with her first husband, had been fellow-passengers with him and his

first wife, on the ship Mary and John, from Dorchester, England, in

1630. Mrs. Rockwell had several children by her first marriage, and

others by her second. By intermarriage, two or three generations later,

I am descended from both the wives of Mathew Grant.

In the fifth descending generation my great grandfather, Noah Grant, and

his younger brother, Solomon, held commissions in the English army, in

1756, in the war against the French and Indians. Both were killed that

year.

My grandfather, also named Noah, was then but nine years old. At the

breaking out of the war of the Revolution, after the battles of Concord

and Lexington, he went with a Connecticut company to join the

Continental army, and was present at the battle of Bunker Hill. He

served until the fall of Yorktown, or through the entire Revolutionary

war. He must, however, have been on furlough part of the time--as I

believe most of the soldiers of that period were--for he married in

Connecticut during the war, had two children, and was a widower at the

close. Soon after this he emigrated to Westmoreland County,

Pennsylvania, and settled near the town of Greensburg in that county.

He took with him the younger of his two children, Peter Grant. The

elder, Solomon, remained with his relatives in Connecticut until old

enough to do for himself, when he emigrated to the British West Indies.

Not long after his settlement in Pennsylvania, my grandfather, Captain

Noah Grant, married a Miss Kelly, and in 1799 he emigrated again, this

time to Ohio, and settled where the town of Deerfield now stands. He

had now five children, including Peter, a son by his first marriage. My

father, Jesse R. Grant, was the second child--oldest son, by the second

marriage.

Peter Grant went early to Maysville, Kentucky, where he was very

prosperous, married, had a family of nine children, and was drowned at

the mouth of the Kanawha River, Virginia, in 1825, being at the time one

of the wealthy men of the West.

My grandmother Grant died in 1805, leaving seven children. This broke

up the family. Captain Noah Grant was not thrifty in the way of "laying

up stores on earth," and, after the death of his second wife, he went,

with the two youngest children, to live with his son Peter, in

Maysville. The rest of the family found homes in the neighborhood of

Deerfield, my father in the family of judge Tod, the father of the late

Governor Tod, of Ohio. His industry and independence of character were

such, that I imagine his labor compensated fully for the expense of his

maintenance.

There must have been a cordiality in his welcome into the Tod family,

for to the day of his death he looked upon judge Tod and his wife, with

all the reverence he could have felt if they had been parents instead of

benefactors. I have often heard him speak of Mrs. Tod as the most

admirable woman he had ever known. He remained with the Tod family only

a few years, until old enough to learn a trade. He went first, I

believe, with his half-brother, Peter Grant, who, though not a tanner

himself, owned a tannery in Maysville, Kentucky. Here he learned his

trade, and in a few years returned to Deerfield and worked for, and

lived in the family of a Mr. Brown, the father of John Brown--"whose

body lies mouldering in the grave, while his soul goes marching on." I

have often heard my father speak of John Brown, particularly since the

events at Harper's Ferry. Brown was a boy when they lived in the same

house, but he knew him afterwards, and regarded him as a man of great

purity of character, of high moral and physical courage, but a fanatic

and extremist in whatever he advocated. It was certainly the act of an

insane man to attempt the invasion of the South, and the overthrow of

slavery, with less than twenty men.

My father set up for himself in business, establishing a tannery at

Ravenna, the county seat of Portage County. In a few years he removed

from Ravenna, and set up the same business at Point Pleasant, Clermont

County, Ohio.

During the minority of my father, the West afforded but poor facilities

for the most opulent of the youth to acquire an education, and the

majority were dependent, almost exclusively, upon their own exertions

for whatever learning they obtained. I have often heard him say that

his time at school was limited to six months, when he was very young,

too young, indeed, to learn much, or to appreciate the advantages of an

education, and to a "quarter's schooling" afterwards, probably while

living with judge Tod. But his thirst for education was intense. He

learned rapidly, and was a constant reader up to the day of his death in

his eightieth year. Books were scarce in the Western Reserve during his

youth, but he read every book he could borrow in the neighborhood where

he lived. This scarcity gave him the early habit of studying everything

he read, so that when he got through with a book, he knew everything in

it. The habit continued through life. Even after reading the daily

papers--which he never neglected--he could give all the important

information they contained. He made himself an excellent English

scholar, and before he was twenty years of age was a constant

contributor to Western newspapers, and was also, from that time until he

was fifty years old, an able debater in the societies for this purpose,

which were common in the West at that time. He always took an active

part in politics, but was never a candidate for office, except, I

believe, that he was the first Mayor of Georgetown. He supported

Jackson for the Presidency; but he was a Whig, a great admirer of Henry

Clay, and never voted for any other democrat for high office after

Jackson.

My mother's family lived in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, for several

generations. I have little information about her ancestors. Her family

took no interest in genealogy, so that my grandfather, who died when I

was sixteen years old, knew only back to his grandfather. On the other

side, my father took a great interest in the subject, and in his

researches, he found that there was an entailed estate in Windsor,

Connecticut, belonging to the family, to which his nephew, Lawson Grant

--still living--was the heir. He was so much interested in the subject

that he got his nephew to empower him to act in the matter, and in 1832

or 1833, when I was a boy ten or eleven years old, he went to Windsor,

proved the title beyond dispute, and perfected the claim of the owners

for a consideration--three thousand dollars, I think. I remember the

circumstance well, and remember, too, hearing him say on his return that

he found some widows living on the property, who had little or nothing

beyond their homes. From these he refused to receive any recompense.

My mother's father, John Simpson, moved from Montgomery County,

Pennsylvania, to Clermont County, Ohio, about the year 1819, taking with

him his four children, three daughters and one son. My mother, Hannah

Simpson, was the third of these children, and was then over twenty years

of age. Her oldest sister was at that time married, and had several

children. She still lives in Clermont County at this writing, October

5th, 1884, and is over ninety ears of age. Until her memory failed her,

a few years ago, she thought the country ruined beyond recovery when the

Democratic party lost control in 1860. Her family, which was large,

inherited her views, with the exception of one son who settled in

Kentucky before the war. He was the only one of the children who

entered the volunteer service to suppress the rebellion.

Her brother, next of age and now past eighty-eight, is also still living

in Clermont County, within a few miles of the old homestead, and is as

active in mind as ever. He was a supporter of the Government during the

war, and remains a firm believer, that national success by the

Democratic party means irretrievable ruin.

In June, 1821, my father, Jesse R. Grant, married Hannah Simpson. I was

born on the 27th of April, 1822, at Point Pleasant, Clermont County,

Ohio. In the fall of 1823 we moved to Georgetown, the county seat of

Brown, the adjoining county east. This place remained my home, until at

the age of seventeen, in 1839, I went to West Point.

The schools, at the time of which I write, were very indifferent. There

were no free schools, and none in which the scholars were classified.

They were all supported by subscription, and a single teacher--who was

often a man or a woman incapable of teaching much, even if they imparted

all they knew--would have thirty or forty scholars, male and female,

from the infant learning the A B C's up to the young lady of eighteen

and the boy of twenty, studying the highest branches taught--the three

R's, "Reading, 'Riting, 'Rithmetic." I never saw an algebra, or other

mathematical work higher than the arithmetic, in Georgetown, until after

I was appointed to West Point. I then bought a work on algebra in

Cincinnati; but having no teacher it was Greek to me.

My life in Georgetown was uneventful. From the age of five or six until

seventeen, I attended the subscription schools of the village, except

during the winters of 1836-7 and 1838-9. The former period was spent in

Maysville, Kentucky, attending the school of Richardson and Rand; the

latter in Ripley, Ohio, at a private school. I was not studious in

habit, and probably did not make progress enough to compensate for the

outlay for board and tuition. At all events both winters were spent in

going over the same old arithmetic which I knew every word of before,

and repeating: "A noun is the name of a thing," which I had also heard

my Georgetown teachers repeat, until I had come to believe it--but I

cast no reflections upon my old teacher, Richardson. He turned out

bright scholars from his school, many of whom have filled conspicuous

places in the service of their States. Two of my contemporaries there

--who, I believe, never attended any other institution of learning--have

held seats in Congress, and one, if not both, other high offices; these

are Wadsworth and Brewster.

My father was, from my earliest recollection, in comfortable

circumstances, considering the times, his place of residence, and the

community in which he lived. Mindful of his own lack of facilities for

acquiring an education, his greatest desire in maturer years was for the

education of his children. Consequently, as stated before, I never

missed a quarter from school from the time I was old enough to attend

till the time of leaving home. This did not exempt me from labor. In

my early days, every one labored more or less, in the region where my

youth was spent, and more in proportion to their private means. It was

only the very poor who were exempt. While my father carried on the

manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself, he owned and

tilled considerable land. I detested the trade, preferring almost any

other labor; but I was fond of agriculture, and of all employment in

which horses were used. We had, among other lands, fifty acres of

forest within a mile of the village. In the fall of the year choppers

were employed to cut enough wood to last a twelve-month. When I was

seven or eight years of age, I began hauling all the wood used in the

house and shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of course, at that

time, but I could drive, and the choppers would load, and some one at

the house unload. When about eleven years old, I was strong enough to

hold a plough. From that age until seventeen I did all the work done

with horses, such as breaking up the land, furrowing, ploughing corn and

potatoes, bringing in the crops when harvested, hauling all the wood,

besides tending two or three horses, a cow or two, and sawing wood for

stoves, etc., while still attending school. For this I was compensated

by the fact that there was never any scolding or punishing by my

parents; no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fishing, going to

the creek a mile away to swim in summer, taking a horse and visiting my

grandparents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles off, skating on the

ice in winter, or taking a horse and sleigh when there was snow on the

ground.

While still quite young I had visited Cincinnati, forty-five miles away,

several times, alone; also Maysville, Kentucky, often, and once

Louisville. The journey to Louisville was a big one for a boy of that

day. I had also gone once with a two-horse carriage to Chilicothe,

about seventy miles, with a neighbor's family, who were removing to

Toledo, Ohio, and returned alone; and had gone once, in like manner, to

Flat Rock, Kentucky, about seventy miles away. On this latter occasion

I was fifteen years of age. While at Flat Rock, at the house of a Mr.

Payne, whom I was visiting with his brother, a neighbor of ours in

Georgetown, I saw a very fine saddle horse, which I rather coveted, and

proposed to Mr. Payne, the owner, to trade him for one of the two I was

driving. Payne hesitated to trade with a boy, but asking his brother

about it, the latter told him that it would be all right, that I was

allowed to do as I pleased with the horses. I was seventy miles from

home, with a carriage to take back, and Mr. Payne said he did not know

that his horse had ever had a collar on. I asked to have him hitched to

a farm wagon and we would soon see whether he would work. It was soon

evident that the horse had never worn harness before; but he showed no

viciousness, and I expressed a confidence that I could manage him. A

trade was at once struck, I receiving ten dollars difference.

The next day Mr. Payne, of Georgetown, and I started on our return. We

got along very well for a few miles, when we encountered a ferocious dog

that frightened the horses and made them run. The new animal kicked at

every jump he made. I got the horses stopped, however, before any

damage was done, and without running into anything. After giving them a

little rest, to quiet their fears, we started again. That instant the

new horse kicked, and started to run once more. The road we were on,

struck the turnpike within half a mile of the point where the second

runaway commenced, and there there was an embankment twenty or more feet

deep on the opposite side of the pike. I got the horses stopped on the

very brink of the precipice. My new horse was terribly frightened and

trembled like an aspen; but he was not half so badly frightened as my

companion, Mr. Payne, who deserted me after this last experience, and

took passage on a freight wagon for Maysville. Every time I attempted

to start, my new horse would commence to kick. I was in quite a dilemma

for a time. Once in Maysville I could borrow a horse from an uncle who

lived there; but I was more than a day's travel from that point.

Finally I took out my bandanna--the style of handkerchief in universal

use then--and with this blindfolded my horse. In this way I reached

Maysville safely the next day, no doubt much to the surprise of my

friend. Here I borrowed a horse from my uncle, and the following day we

proceeded on our journey.

About half my school-days in Georgetown were spent at the school of John

D. White, a North Carolinian, and the father of Chilton White who

represented the district in Congress for one term during the rebellion.

Mr. White was always a Democrat in politics, and Chilton followed his

father. He had two older brothers--all three being school-mates of mine

at their father's school--who did not go the same way. The second

brother died before the rebellion began; he was a Whig, and afterwards a

Republican. His oldest brother was a Republican and brave soldier

during the rebellion. Chilton is reported as having told of an earlier

horse-trade of mine. As he told the story, there was a Mr. Ralston

living within a few miles of the village, who owned a colt which I very

much wanted. My father had offered twenty dollars for it, but Ralston

wanted twenty-five. I was so anxious to have the colt, that after the

owner left, I begged to be allowed to take him at the price demanded.

My father yielded, but said twenty dollars was all the horse was worth,

and told me to offer that price; if it was not accepted I was to offer

twenty-two and a half, and if that would not get him, to give the

twenty-five. I at once mounted a horse and went for the colt. When I

got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him: "Papa says I may offer you

twenty dollars for the colt, but if you won't take that, I am to offer

twenty-two and a half, and if you won't take that, to give you

twenty-five." It would not require a Connecticut man to guess the price

finally agreed upon. This story is nearly true. I certainly showed

very plainly that I had come for the colt and meant to have him. I

could not have been over eight years old at the time. This transaction

caused me great heart-burning. The story got out among the boys of the

village, and it was a long time before I heard the last of it. Boys

enjoy the misery of their companions, at least village boys in that day

did, and in later life I have found that all adults are not free from

the peculiarity. I kept the horse until he was four years old, when he

went blind, and I sold him for twenty dollars. When I went to Maysville

to school, in 1836, at the age of fourteen, I recognized my colt as one

of the blind horses working on the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat.

I have described enough of my early life to give an impression of the

whole. I did not like to work; but I did as much of it, while young, as

grown men can be hired to do in these days, and attended school at the

same time. I had as many privileges as any boy in the village, and

probably more than most of them. I have no recollection of ever having

been punished at home, either by scolding or by the rod. But at school

the case was different. The rod was freely used there, and I was not

exempt from its influence. I can see John D. White--the school teacher

--now, with his long beech switch always in his hand. It was not always

the same one, either. Switches were brought in bundles, from a beech

wood near the school house, by the boys for whose benefit they were

intended. Often a whole bundle would be used up in a single day. I

never had any hard feelings against my teacher, either while attending

the school, or in later years when reflecting upon my experience. Mr.

White was a kindhearted man, and was much respected by the community in

which he lived. He only followed the universal custom of the period,

and that under which he had received his own education.

CHAPTER II.

WEST POINT--GRADUATION.

In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only ten miles

distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holidays at home.

During this vacation my father received a letter from the Honorable

Thomas Morris, then United States Senator from Ohio. When he read it he

said to me, "Ulysses, I believe you are going to receive the

appointment." "What appointment?" I inquired. "To West Point; I have

applied for it." "But I won't go," I said. He said he thought I would,

AND I THOUGHT SO TOO, IF HE DID. I really had no objection to going to

West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the acquirements

necessary to get through. I did not believe I possessed them, and could

not bear the idea of failing. There had been four boys from our

village, or its immediate neighborhood, who had been graduated from West

Point, and never a failure of any one appointed from Georgetown, except

in the case of the one whose place I was to take. He was the son of Dr.

Bailey, our nearest and most intimate neighbor. Young Bailey had been

appointed in 1837. Finding before the January examination following,

that he could not pass, he resigned and went to a private school, and

remained there until the following year, when he was reappointed.

Before the next examination he was dismissed. Dr. Bailey was a proud

and sensitive man, and felt the failure of his son so keenly that he

forbade his return home. There were no telegraphs in those days to

disseminate news rapidly, no railroads west of the Alleghanies, and but

few east; and above all, there were no reporters prying into other

people's private affairs. Consequently it did not become generally

known that there was a vacancy at West Point from our district until I

was appointed. I presume Mrs. Bailey confided to my mother the fact

that Bartlett had been dismissed, and that the doctor had forbidden his

son's return home.

The Honorable Thomas L. Hamer, one of the ablest men Ohio ever produced,

was our member of Congress at the time, and had the right of nomination.

He and my father had been members of the same debating society (where

they were generally pitted on opposite sides), and intimate personal

friends from their early manhood up to a few years before. In politics

they differed. Hamer was a life-long Democrat, while my father was a

Whig. They had a warm discussion, which finally became angry--over some

act of President Jackson, the removal of the deposit of public moneys, I

think--after which they never spoke until after my appointment. I know

both of them felt badly over this estrangement, and would have been glad

at any time to come to a reconciliation; but neither would make the

advance. Under these circumstances my father would not write to Hamer

for the appointment, but he wrote to Thomas Morris, United States

Senator from Ohio, informing him that there was a vacancy at West Point

from our district, and that he would be glad if I could be appointed to

fill it. This letter, I presume, was turned over to Mr. Hamer, and, as

there was no other applicant, he cheerfully appointed me. This healed

the breach between the two, never after reopened.

Besides the argument used by my father in favor of my going to West

Point--that "he thought I would go"--there was another very strong

inducement. I had always a great desire to travel. I was already the

best travelled boy in Georgetown, except the sons of one man, John

Walker, who had emigrated to Texas with his family, and immigrated back

as soon as he could get the means to do so. In his short stay in Texas

he acquired a very different opinion of the country from what one would

form going there now.

I had been east to Wheeling, Virginia, and north to the Western Reserve,

in Ohio, west to Louisville, and south to Bourbon County, Kentucky,

besides having driven or ridden pretty much over the whole country

within fifty miles of home. Going to West Point would give me the

opportunity of visiting the two great cities of the continent,

Philadelphia and New York. This was enough. When these places were

visited I would have been glad to have had a steamboat or railroad

collision, or any other accident happen, by which I might have received

a temporary injury sufficient to make me ineligible, for a time, to

enter the Academy. Nothing of the kind occurred, and I had to face the

music.

Georgetown has a remarkable record for a western village. It is, and

has been from its earliest existence, a democratic town. There was

probably no time during the rebellion when, if the opportunity could

have been afforded, it would not have voted for Jefferson Davis for

President of the United States, over Mr. Lincoln, or any other

representative of his party; unless it was immediately after some of

John Morgan's men, in his celebrated raid through Ohio, spent a few

hours in the village. The rebels helped themselves to whatever they

could find, horses, boots and shoes, especially horses, and many ordered

meals to be prepared for them by the families. This was no doubt a far

pleasanter duty for some families than it would have been to render a

like service for Union soldiers. The line between the Rebel and Union

element in Georgetown was so marked that it led to divisions even in the

churches. There were churches in that part of Ohio where treason was

preached regularly, and where, to secure membership, hostility to the

government, to the war and to the liberation of the slaves, was far more

essential than a belief in the authenticity or credibility of the Bible.

There were men in Georgetown who filled all the requirements for

membership in these churches.

Yet this far-off western village, with a population, including old and

young, male and female, of about one thousand--about enough for the

organization of a single regiment if all had been men capable of bearing

arms--furnished the Union army four general officers and one colonel,

West Point graduates, and nine generals and field officers of

Volunteers, that I can think of. Of the graduates from West Point, all

had citizenship elsewhere at the breaking out of the rebellion, except

possibly General A. V. Kautz, who had remained in the army from his

graduation. Two of the colonels also entered the service from other

localities. The other seven, General McGroierty, Colonels White, Fyffe,

Loudon and Marshall, Majors King and Bailey, were all residents of

Georgetown when the war broke out, and all of them, who were alive at

the close, returned there. Major Bailey was the cadet who had preceded

me at West Point. He was killed in West Virginia, in his first

engagement. As far as I know, every boy who has entered West Point from

that village since my time has been graduated.

I took passage on a steamer at Ripley, Ohio, for Pittsburg, about the

middle of May, 1839. Western boats at that day did not make regular

trips at stated times, but would stop anywhere, and for any length of

time, for passengers or freight. I have myself been detained two or

three days at a place after steam was up, the gang planks, all but one,

drawn in, and after the time advertised for starting had expired. On

this occasion we had no vexatious delays, and in about three days

Pittsburg was reached. From Pittsburg I chose passage by the canal to

Harrisburg, rather than by the more expeditious stage. This gave a

better opportunity of enjoying the fine scenery of Western Pennsylvania,

and I had rather a dread of reaching my destination at all. At that

time the canal was much patronized by travellers, and, with the

comfortable packets of the period, no mode of conveyance could be more

pleasant, when time was not an object. From Harrisburg to Philadelphia

there was a railroad, the first I had ever seen, except the one on which

I had just crossed the summit of the Alleghany Mountains, and over which

canal boats were transported. In travelling by the road from

Harrisburg, I thought the perfection of rapid transit had been reached.

We travelled at least eighteen miles an hour, when at full speed, and

made the whole distance averaging probably as much as twelve miles an

hour. This seemed like annihilating space. I stopped five days in

Philadelphia, saw about every street in the city, attended the theatre,

visited Girard College (which was then in course of construction), and

got reprimanded from home afterwards, for dallying by the way so long.

My sojourn in New York was shorter, but long enough to enable me to see

the city very well. I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st of

May, and about two weeks later passed my examination for admission,

without difficulty, very much to my surprise.

A military life had no charms for me, and I had not the faintest idea of

staying in the army even if I should be graduated, which I did not

expect. The encampment which preceded the commencement of academic

studies was very wearisome and uninteresting. When the 28th of August

came--the date for breaking up camp and going into barracks--I felt as

though I had been at West Point always, and that if I staid to

graduation, I would have to remain always. I did not take hold of my

studies with avidity, in fact I rarely ever read over a lesson the

second time during my entire cadetship. I could not sit in my room

doing nothing. There is a fine library connected with the Academy from

which cadets can get books to read in their quarters. I devoted more

time to these, than to books relating to the course of studies. Much of

the time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but not those of a

trashy sort. I read all of Bulwer's then published, Cooper's,

Marryat's, Scott's, Washington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others

that I do not now remember. Mathematics was very easy to me, so that

when January came, I passed the examination, taking a good standing in

that branch. In French, the only other study at that time in the first

year's course, my standing was very low. In fact, if the class had been

turned the other end foremost I should have been near head. I never

succeeded in getting squarely at either end of my class, in any one

study, during the four years. I came near it in French, artillery,

infantry and cavalry tactics, and conduct.

Early in the session of the Congress which met in December, 1839, a bill

was discussed abolishing the Military Academy. I saw in this an

honorable way to obtain a discharge, and read the debates with much

interest, but with impatience at the delay in taking action, for I was

selfish enough to favor the bill. It never passed, and a year later,

although the time hung drearily with me, I would have been sorry to have

seen it succeed. My idea then was to get through the course, secure a

detail for a few years as assistant professor of mathematics at the

Academy, and afterwards obtain a permanent position as professor in some

respectable college; but circumstances always did shape my course

different from my plans.

At the end of two years the class received the usual furlough, extending

from the close of the June examination to the 28th of August. This I

enjoyed beyond any other period of my life. My father had sold out his

business in Georgetown--where my youth had been spent, and to which my

day-dreams carried me back as my future home, if I should ever be able

to retire on a competency. He had moved to Bethel, only twelve miles

away, in the adjoining county of Clermont, and had bought a young horse

that had never been in harness, for my special use under the saddle

during my furlough. Most of my time was spent among my old

school-mates--these ten weeks were shorter than one week at West Point.

Persons acquainted with the Academy know that the corps of cadets is

divided into four companies for the purpose of military exercises.

These companies are officered from the cadets, the superintendent and

commandant selecting the officers for their military bearing and

qualifications. The adjutant, quartermaster, four captains and twelve

lieutenants are taken from the first, or Senior class; the sergeants

from the second, or junior class; and the corporals from the third, or

Sophomore class. I had not been "called out" as a corporal, but when I

returned from furlough I found myself the last but one--about my

standing in all the tactics--of eighteen sergeants. The promotion was

too much for me. That year my standing in the class--as shown by the

number of demerits of the year--was about the same as it was among the

sergeants, and I was dropped, and served the fourth year as a private.

During my first year's encampment General Scott visited West Point, and

reviewed the cadets. With his commanding figure, his quite colossal

size and showy uniform, I thought him the finest specimen of manhood my

eyes had ever beheld, and the most to be envied. I could never resemble

him in appearance, but I believe I did have a presentiment for a moment

that some day I should occupy his place on review--although I had no

intention then of remaining in the army. My experience in a horse-trade

ten years before, and the ridicule it caused me, were too fresh in my

mind for me to communicate this presentiment to even my most intimate

chum. The next summer Martin Van Buren, then President of the United

States, visited West Point and reviewed the cadets; he did not impress

me with the awe which Scott had inspired. In fact I regarded General

Scott and Captain C. F. Smith, the Commandant of Cadets, as the two men

most to be envied in the nation. I retained a high regard for both up

to the day of their death.

The last two years wore away more rapidly than the first two, but they

still seemed about five times as long as Ohio years, to me. At last all

the examinations were passed, and the members of the class were called

upon to record their choice of arms of service and regiments. I was

anxious to enter the cavalry, or dragoons as they were then called, but

there was only one regiment of dragoons in the Army at that time, and

attached to that, besides the full complement of officers, there were at

least four brevet second lieutenants. I recorded therefore my first

choice, dragoons; second, 4th infantry; and got the latter. Again there

was a furlough--or, more properly speaking, leave of absence for the

class were now commissioned officers--this time to the end of September.

Again I went to Ohio to spend my vacation among my old school-mates; and

again I found a fine saddle horse purchased for my special use, besides

a horse and buggy that I could drive--but I was not in a physical

condition to enjoy myself quite as well as on the former occasion. For

six months before graduation I had had a desperate cough ("Tyler's grip"

it was called), and I was very much reduced, weighing but one hundred

and seventeen pounds, just my weight at entrance, though I had grown six

inches in stature in the mean time. There was consumption in my

father's family, two of his brothers having died of that disease, which

made my symptoms more alarming. The brother and sister next younger

than myself died, during the rebellion, of the same disease, and I

seemed the most promising subject for it of the three in 1843.

Having made alternate choice of two different arms of service with

different uniforms, I could not get a uniform suit until notified of my

assignment. I left my measurement with a tailor, with directions not to

make the uniform until I notified him whether it was to be for infantry

or dragoons. Notice did not reach me for several weeks, and then it

took at least a week to get the letter of instructions to the tailor and

two more to make the clothes and have them sent to me. This was a time

of great suspense. I was impatient to get on my uniform and see how it

looked, and probably wanted my old school-mates, particularly the girls,

to see me in it.

The conceit was knocked out of me by two little circumstances that

happened soon after the arrival of the clothes, which gave me a distaste

for military uniform that I never recovered from. Soon after the

arrival of the suit I donned it, and put off for Cincinnati on

horseback. While I was riding along a street of that city, imagining

that every one was looking at me, with a feeling akin to mine when I

first saw General Scott, a little urchin, bareheaded, footed, with dirty

and ragged pants held up by bare a single gallows--that's what

suspenders were called then--and a shirt that had not seen a wash-tub

for weeks, turned to me and cried: "Soldier! will you work? No,

sir--ee; I'll sell my shirt first!!" The horse trade and its dire

consequences were recalled to mind.

The other circumstance occurred at home. Opposite our house in Bethel

stood the old stage tavern where "man and beast" found accommodation,

The stable-man was rather dissipated, but possessed of some humor. On

my return I found him parading the streets, and attending in the stable,

barefooted, but in a pair of sky-blue nankeen pantaloons--just the color

of my uniform trousers--with a strip of white cotton sheeting sewed down

the outside seams in imitation of mine. The joke was a huge one in the

mind of many of the people, and was much enjoyed by them; but I did not

appreciate it so highly.

During the remainder of my leave of absence, my time was spent in

visiting friends in Georgetown and Cincinnati, and occasionally other

towns in that part of the State.

CHAPTER III.

ARMY LIFE--CAUSES OF THE MEXICAN WAR--CAMP SALUBRITY.

On the 30th of September I reported for duty at Jefferson Barracks, St.

Louis, with the 4th United States infantry. It was the largest military

post in the country at that time, being garrisoned by sixteen companies

of infantry, eight of the 3d regiment, the remainder of the 4th.

Colonel Steven Kearney, one of the ablest officers of the day, commanded

the post, and under him discipline was kept at a high standard, but

without vexatious rules or regulations. Every drill and roll-call had

to be attended, but in the intervals officers were permitted to enjoy

themselves, leaving the garrison, and going where they pleased, without

making written application to state where they were going for how long,

etc., so that they were back for their next duty. It did seem to me, in

my early army days, that too many of the older officers, when they came

to command posts, made it a study to think what orders they could

publish to annoy their subordinates and render them uncomfortable. I

noticed, however, a few years later, when the Mexican war broke out,

that most of this class of officers discovered they were possessed of

disabilities which entirely incapacitated them for active field service.

They had the moral courage to proclaim it, too. They were right; but

they did not always give their disease the right name.

At West Point I had a class-mate--in the last year of our studies he was

room-mate also--F. T. Dent, whose family resided some five miles west of

Jefferson Barracks. Two of his unmarried brothers were living at home

at that time, and as I had taken with me from Ohio, my horse, saddle and

bridle, I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the Dent

estate. As I found the family congenial my visits became frequent.

There were at home, besides the young men, two daughters, one a school

miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight or nine. There was still an

older daughter of seventeen, who had been spending several years at

boarding-school in St. Louis, but who, though through school, had not

yet returned home. She was spending the winter in the city with

connections, the family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St.

Louis. In February she returned to her country home. After that I do

not know but my visits became more frequent; they certainly did become

more enjoyable. We would often take walks, or go on horseback to visit

the neighbors, until I became quite well acquainted in that vicinity.

Sometimes one of the brothers would accompany us, sometimes one of the

younger sisters. If the 4th infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks

it is possible, even probable, that this life might have continued for

some years without my finding out that there was anything serious the

matter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred which

developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no mistaking it.

The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of violent

discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals. The

administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the most

strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was, indeed, the great

and absorbing question of the day. During these discussions the greater

part of the single rifle regiment in the army--the 2d dragoons, which

had been dismounted a year or two before, and designated "Dismounted

Rifles"--was stationed at Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles

east of the Texas line, to observe the frontier. About the 1st of May

the 3d infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go

into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await further

orders. The troops were embarked on steamers and were on their way down

the Mississippi within a few days after the receipt of this order.

About the time they started I obtained a leave of absence for twenty

days to go to Ohio to visit my parents. I was obliged to go to St.

Louis to take a steamer for Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first

steamer going up the Ohio River to any point. Before I left St. Louis

orders were received at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th infantry to

follow the 3d. A messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but

before he could reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events. A

day or two after my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from a

classmate and fellow lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of the

circumstances related above, and advising me not to open any letter post

marked St. Louis or Jefferson Barracks, until the expiration of my

leave, and saying that he would pack up my things and take them along

for me. His advice was not necessary, for no other letter was sent to

me. I now discovered that I was exceedingly anxious to get back to

Jefferson Barracks, and I understood the reason without explanation from

any one. My leave of absence required me to report for duty, at

Jefferson Barracks, at the end of twenty days. I knew my regiment had

gone up the Red River, but I was not disposed to break the letter of my

leave; besides, if I had proceeded to Louisiana direct, I could not have

reached there until after the expiration of my leave. Accordingly, at

the end of the twenty days, I reported for duty to Lieutenant Ewell,

commanding at Jefferson Barracks, handing him at the same time my leave

of absence. After noticing the phraseology of the order--leaves of

absence were generally worded, "at the end of which time he will report

for duty with his proper command"--he said he would give me an order to

join my regiment in Louisiana. I then asked for a few days' leave

before starting, which he readily granted. This was the same Ewell who

acquired considerable reputation as a Confederate general during the

rebellion. He was a man much esteemed, and deservedly so, in the old

army, and proved himself a gallant and efficient officer in two wars

--both in my estimation unholy.

I immediately procured a horse and started for the country, taking no

baggage with me, of course. There is an insignificant creek--the

Gravois--between Jefferson Barracks and the place to which I was going,

and at that day there was not a bridge over it from its source to its

mouth. There is not water enough in the creek at ordinary stages to run

a coffee mill, and at low water there is none running whatever. On this

occasion it had been raining heavily, and, when the creek was reached, I

found the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid. I looked at

it a moment to consider what to do. One of my superstitions had always

been when I started to go any where, or to do anything, not to turn

back, or stop until the thing intended was accomplished. I have

frequently started to go to places where I had never been and to which I

did not know the way, depending upon making inquiries on the road, and

if I got past the place without knowing it, instead of turning back, I

would go on until a road was found turning in the right direction, take

that, and come in by the other side. So I struck into the stream, and

in an instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by the

current. I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon reached it,

wet through and without other clothes on that side of the stream. I

went on, however, to my destination and borrowed a dry suit from my

--future--brother-in-law. We were not of the same size, but the clothes

answered every purpose until I got more of my own.

Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in the most

awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made on learning that the

4th infantry had been ordered away from Jefferson Barracks. The young

lady afterwards admitted that she too, although until then she had never

looked upon me other than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to

her, had experienced a depression of spirits she could not account for

when the regiment left. Before separating it was definitely understood

that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not let the

removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May, 1844. It was the

22d of August, 1848, before the fulfilment of this agreement. My duties

kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with the Army of Observation during

the pendency of Annexation; and afterwards I was absent through the war

with Mexico, provoked by the action of the army, if not by the

annexation itself. During that time there was a constant correspondence

between Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of four

years and three months. In May, 1845, I procured a leave for twenty

days, visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of the parents for the

union, which had not been asked for before.

As already stated, it was never my intention to remain in the army long,

but to prepare myself for a professorship in some college. Accordingly,

soon after I was settled at Jefferson Barracks, I wrote a letter to

Professor Church--Professor of Mathematics at West Point--requesting him

to ask my designation as his assistant, when next a detail had to be

made. Assistant professors at West Point are all officers of the army,

supposed to be selected for their special fitness for the particular

branch of study they are assigned to teach. The answer from Professor

Church was entirely satisfactory, and no doubt I should have been

detailed a year or two later but for the Mexican War coming on.

Accordingly I laid out for myself a course of studies to be pursued in

garrison, with regularity, if not persistency. I reviewed my West Point

course of mathematics during the seven months at Jefferson Barracks, and

read many valuable historical works, besides an occasional novel. To

help my memory I kept a book in which I would write up, from time to

time, my recollections of all I had read since last posting it. When

the regiment was ordered away, I being absent at the time, my effects

were packed up by Lieutenant Haslett, of the 4th infantry, and taken

along. I never saw my journal after, nor did I ever keep another,

except for a portion of the time while travelling abroad. Often since a

fear has crossed my mind lest that book might turn up yet, and fall into

the hands of some malicious person who would publish it. I know its

appearance would cause me as much heart-burning as my youthful

horse-trade, or the later rebuke for wearing uniform clothes.

The 3d infantry had selected camping grounds on the reservation at Fort

Jessup, about midway between the Red River and the Sabine. Our orders

required us to go into camp in the same neighborhood, and await further

instructions. Those authorized to do so selected a place in the pine

woods, between the old town of Natchitoches and Grand Ecore, about three

miles from each, and on high ground back from the river. The place was

given the name of Camp Salubrity, and proved entitled to it. The camp

was on a high, sandy, pine ridge, with spring branches in the valley, in

front and rear. The springs furnished an abundance of cool, pure water,

and the ridge was above the flight of mosquitoes, which abound in that

region in great multitudes and of great voracity. In the valley they

swarmed in myriads, but never came to the summit of the ridge. The

regiment occupied this camp six months before the first death occurred,

and that was caused by an accident.

There was no intimation given that the removal of the 3d and 4th

regiments of infantry to the western border of Louisiana was occasioned

in any way by the prospective annexation of Texas, but it was generally

understood that such was the case. Ostensibly we were intended to

prevent filibustering into Texas, but really as a menace to Mexico in

case she appeared to contemplate war. Generally the officers of the

army were indifferent whether the annexation was consummated or not; but

not so all of them. For myself, I was bitterly opposed to the measure,

and to this day regard the war, which resulted, as one of the most

unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation. It was an

instance of a republic following the bad example of European monarchies,

in not considering justice in their desire to acquire additional

territory. Texas was originally a state belonging to the republic of

Mexico. It extended from the Sabine River on the east to the Rio Grande

on the west, and from the Gulf of Mexico on the south and east to the

territory of the United States and New Mexico--another Mexican state at

that time--on the north and west. An empire in territory, it had but a

very sparse population, until settled by Americans who had received

authority from Mexico to colonize. These colonists paid very little

attention to the supreme government, and introduced slavery into the

state almost from the start, though the constitution of Mexico did not,

nor does it now, sanction that institution. Soon they set up an

independent government of their own, and war existed, between Texas and

Mexico, in name from that time until 1836, when active hostilities very

nearly ceased upon the capture of Santa Anna, the Mexican President.

Before long, however, the same people--who with permission of Mexico had

colonized Texas, and afterwards set up slavery there, and then seceded

as soon as they felt strong enough to do so--offered themselves and the

State to the United States, and in 1845 their offer was accepted. The

occupation, separation and annexation were, from the inception of the

movement to its final consummation, a conspiracy to acquire territory

out of which slave states might be formed for the American Union.

Even if the annexation itself could be justified, the manner in which

the subsequent war was forced upon Mexico cannot. The fact is,

annexationists wanted more territory than they could possibly lay any

claim to, as part of the new acquisition. Texas, as an independent

State, never had exercised jurisdiction over the territory between the

Nueces River and the Rio Grande. Mexico had never recognized the

independence of Texas, and maintained that, even if independent, the

State had no claim south of the Nueces. I am aware that a treaty, made

by the Texans with Santa Anna while he was under duress, ceded all the

territory between the Nueces and the Rio Grande--, but he was a prisoner

of war when the treaty was made, and his life was in jeopardy. He knew,

too, that he deserved execution at the hands of the Texans, if they

should ever capture him. The Texans, if they had taken his life, would

have only followed the example set by Santa Anna himself a few years

before, when he executed the entire garrison of the Alamo and the

villagers of Goliad.

In taking military possession of Texas after annexation, the army of

occupation, under General Taylor, was directed to occupy the disputed

territory. The army did not stop at the Nueces and offer to negotiate

for a settlement of the boundary question, but went beyond, apparently

in order to force Mexico to initiate war. It is to the credit of the

American nation, however, that after conquering Mexico, and while

practically holding the country in our possession, so that we could have

retained the whole of it, or made any terms we chose, we paid a round

sum for the additional territory taken; more than it was worth, or was

likely to be, to Mexico. To us it was an empire and of incalculable

value; but it might have been obtained by other means. The Southern

rebellion was largely the outgrowth of the Mexican war. Nations, like

individuals, are punished for their transgressions. We got our

punishment in the most sanguinary and expensive war of modern times.

The 4th infantry went into camp at Salubrity in the month of May, 1844,

with instructions, as I have said, to await further orders. At first,

officers and men occupied ordinary tents. As the summer heat increased

these were covered by sheds to break the rays of the sun. The summer

was whiled away in social enjoyments among the officers, in visiting

those stationed at, and near, Fort Jessup, twenty-five miles away,

visiting the planters on the Red River, and the citizens of Natchitoches

and Grand Ecore. There was much pleasant intercourse between the

inhabitants and the officers of the army. I retain very agreeable

recollections of my stay at Camp Salubrity, and of the acquaintances

made there, and no doubt my feeling is shared by the few officers living

who were there at the time. I can call to mind only two officers of the

4th infantry, besides myself, who were at Camp Salubrity with the

regiment, who are now alive.

With a war in prospect, and belonging to a regiment that had an unusual

number of officers detailed on special duty away from the regiment, my

hopes of being ordered to West Point as instructor vanished. At the

time of which I now write, officers in the quartermaster's, commissary's

and adjutant--general's departments were appointed from the line of the

army, and did not vacate their regimental commissions until their

regimental and staff commissions were for the same grades. Generally

lieutenants were appointed to captaincies to fill vacancies in the staff

corps. If they should reach a captaincy in the line before they arrived

at a majority in the staff, they would elect which commission they would

retain. In the 4th infantry, in 1844, at least six line officers were

on duty in the staff, and therefore permanently detached from the

regiment. Under these circumstances I gave up everything like a special

course of reading, and only read thereafter for my own amusement, and

not very much for that, until the war was over. I kept a horse and

rode, and staid out of doors most of the time by day, and entirely

recovered from the cough which I had carried from West Point, and from

all indications of consumption. I have often thought that my life was

saved, and my health restored, by exercise and exposure, enforced by an

administrative act, and a war, both of which I disapproved.

As summer wore away, and cool days and colder nights came upon us, the

tents e were occupying ceased to afford comfortable quarters; and

"further orders" not reaching us, we began to look about to remedy the

hardship. Men were put to work getting out timber to build huts, and in

a very short time all were comfortably housed--privates as well as

officers. The outlay by the government in accomplishing this was

nothing, or nearly nothing. The winter was spent more agreeably than

the summer had been. There were occasional parties given by the

planters along the "coast"--as the bottom lands on the Red River were

called. The climate was delightful.

Near the close of the short session of Congress of 1844-5, the bill for

the annexation of Texas to the United States was passed. It reached

President Tyler on the 1st of March, 1845, and promptly received his

approval. When the news reached us we began to look again for "further

orders." They did not arrive promptly, and on the 1st of May following

I asked and obtained a leave of absence for twenty days, for the purpose

of visiting--St. Louis. The object of this visit has been before

stated.

Early in July the long expected orders were received, but they only

took the regiment to New Orleans Barracks. We reached there before the

middle of the month, and again waited weeks for still further orders.

The yellow fever was raging in New Orleans during the time we remained

there, and the streets of the city had the appearance of a continuous

well-observed Sunday. I recollect but one occasion when this observance

seemed to be broken by the inhabitants. One morning about daylight I

happened to be awake, and, hearing the discharge of a rifle not far

off, I looked out to ascertain where the sound came from. I observed a

couple of clusters of men near by, and learned afterwards that "it was

nothing; only a couple of gentlemen deciding a difference of opinion

with rifles, at twenty paces." I do not remember if either was killed,

or even hurt, but no doubt the question of difference was settled

satisfactorily, and "honorably," in the estimation of the parties

engaged. I do not believe I ever would have the courage to fight a

duel. If any man should wrong me to the extent of my being willing to

kill him, I would not be willing to give him the choice of weapons with

which it should be done, and of the time, place and distance separating

us, when I executed him. If I should do another such a wrong as to

justify him in killing me, I would make any reasonable atonement within

my power, if convinced of the wrong done. I place my opposition to

duelling on higher grounds than any here stated. No doubt a majority

of the duels fought have been for want of moral courage on the part of

those engaged to decline.

At Camp Salubrity, and when we went to New Orleans Barracks, the 4th

infantry was commanded by Colonel Vose, then an old gentleman who had

not commanded on drill for a number of years. He was not a man to

discover infirmity in the presence of danger. It now appeared that war

was imminent, and he felt that it was his duty to brush up his tactics.

Accordingly, when we got settled down at our new post, he took command

of the regiment at a battalion drill. Only two or three evolutions had

been gone through when he dismissed the battalion, and, turning to go to

his own quarters, dropped dead. He had not been complaining of ill

health, but no doubt died of heart disease. He was a most estimable

man, of exemplary habits, and by no means the author of his own disease.

CHAPTER IV.

CORPUS CHRISTI--MEXICAN SMUGGLING--SPANISH RULE IN MEXICO--SUPPLYING

TRANSPORTATION.

Early in September the regiment left New Orleans for Corpus Christi, now

in Texas. Ocean steamers were not then common, and the passage was made

in sailing vessels. At that time there was not more than three feet of

water in the channel at the outlet of Corpus Christi Bay; the

debarkation, therefore, had to take place by small steamers, and at an

island in the channel called Shell Island, the ships anchoring some

miles out from shore. This made the work slow, and as the army was only

supplied with one or two steamers, it took a number of days to effect

the landing of a single regiment with its stores, camp and garrison

equipage, etc. There happened to be pleasant weather while this was

going on, but the land-swell was so great that when the ship and steamer

were on opposite sides of the same wave they would be at considerable

distance apart. The men and baggage were let down to a point higher

than the lower deck of the steamer, and when ship and steamer got into

the trough between the waves, and were close together, the load would be

drawn over the steamer and rapidly run down until it rested on the deck.

After I had gone ashore, and had been on guard several days at Shell

Island, quite six miles from the ship, I had occasion for some reason or

other to return on board. While on the Suviah--I think that was the

name of our vessel--I heard a tremendous racket at the other end of the

ship, and much and excited sailor language, such as "damn your eyes,"

etc. In a moment or two the captain, who was an excitable little man,

dying with consumption, and not weighing much over a hundred pounds,

came running out, carrying a sabre nearly as large and as heavy as he

was, and crying, that his men had mutinied. It was necessary to sustain

the captain without question, and in a few minutes all the sailors

charged with mutiny were in irons. I rather felt for a time a wish that

I had not gone aboard just then. As the men charged with mutiny

submitted to being placed in irons without resistance, I always doubted

if they knew that they had mutinied until they were told.

By the time I was ready to leave the ship again I thought I had learned

enough of the working of the double and single pulley, by which

passengers were let down from the upper deck of the ship to the steamer

below, and determined to let myself down without assistance. Without

saying anything of my intentions to any one, I mounted the railing, and

taking hold of the centre rope, just below the upper block, I put one

foot on the hook below the lower block, and stepped off just as I did so

some one called out "hold on." It was too late. I tried to "hold on"

with all my might, but my heels went up, and my head went down so

rapidly that my hold broke, and I plunged head foremost into the water,

some twenty-five feet below, with such velocity that it seemed to me I

never would stop. When I came to the surface again, being a fair

swimmer, and not having lost my presence of mind, I swam around until a

bucket was let down for me, and I was drawn up without a scratch or

injury. I do not believe there was a man on board who sympathized with

me in the least when they found me uninjured. I rather enjoyed the joke

myself. The captain of the Suviah died of his disease a few months later,

and I believe before the mutineers were tried. I hope they got clear,

because, as before stated, I always thought the mutiny was all in the

brain of a very weak and sick man.

After reaching shore, or Shell Island, the labor of getting to Corpus

Christi was slow and tedious. There was, if my memory serves me, but

one small steamer to transport troops and baggage when the 4th infantry

arrived. Others were procured later. The distance from Shell Island to

Corpus Christi was some sixteen or eighteen miles. The channel to the

bay was so shallow that the steamer, small as it was, had to be dragged

over the bottom when loaded. Not more than one trip a day could be

effected. Later this was remedied, by deepening the channel and

increasing the number of vessels suitable to its navigation.

Corpus Christi is near the head of the bay of the same name, formed by

the entrance of the Nueces River into tide-water, and is on the west

bank of that bay. At the time of its first occupancy by United States

troops there was a small Mexican hamlet there, containing probably less

than one hundred souls. There was, in addition, a small American trading

post, at which goods were sold to Mexican smugglers. All goods were put

up in compact packages of about one hundred pounds each, suitable for

loading on pack mules. Two of these packages made a load for an

ordinary Mexican mule, and three for the larger ones. The bulk of the

trade was in leaf tobacco, and domestic cotton-cloths and calicoes. The

Mexicans had, before the arrival of the army, but little to offer in

exchange except silver. The trade in tobacco was enormous, considering

the population to be supplied. Almost every Mexican above the age of

ten years, and many much younger, smoked the cigarette. Nearly every

Mexican carried a pouch of leaf tobacco, powdered by rolling in the

hands, and a roll of corn husks to make wrappers. The cigarettes were

made by the smokers as they used them.

Up to the time of which I write, and for years afterwards--I think until

the administration of President Juarez--the cultivation, manufacture and

sale of tobacco constituted a government monopoly, and paid the bulk of

the revenue collected from internal sources. The price was enormously

high, and made successful smuggling very profitable. The difficulty of

obtaining tobacco is probably the reason why everybody, male and female,

used it at that time. I know from my own experience that when I was at

West Point, the fact that tobacco, in every form, was prohibited, and

the mere possession of the weed severely punished, made the majority of

the cadets, myself included, try to acquire the habit of using it. I

failed utterly at the time and for many years afterward; but the

majority accomplished the object of their youthful ambition.

Under Spanish rule Mexico was prohibited from producing anything that

the mother-country could supply. This rule excluded the cultivation of

the grape, olive and many other articles to which the soil and climate

were well adapted. The country was governed for "revenue only;" and

tobacco, which cannot be raised in Spain, but is indigenous to Mexico,

offered a fine instrumentality for securing this prime object of

government. The native population had been in the habit of using "the

weed" from a period, back of any recorded history of this continent.

Bad habits--if not restrained by law or public opinion--spread more

rapidly and universally than good ones, and the Spanish colonists

adopted the use of tobacco almost as generally as the natives. Spain,

therefore, in order to secure the largest revenue from this source,

prohibited the cultivation, except in specified localities--and in these

places farmed out the privilege at a very high price. The tobacco when

raised could only be sold to the government, and the price to the

consumer was limited only by the avarice of the authorities, and the

capacity of the people to pay.

All laws for the government of the country were enacted in Spain, and

the officers for their execution were appointed by the Crown, and sent

out to the New El Dorado. The Mexicans had been brought up ignorant of

how to legislate or how to rule. When they gained their independence,

after many years of war, it was the most natural thing in the world that

they should adopt as their own the laws then in existence. The only

change was, that Mexico became her own executor of the laws and the

recipient of the revenues. The tobacco tax, yielding so large a revenue

under the law as it stood, was one of the last, if not the very last, of

the obnoxious imposts to be repealed. Now, the citizens are allowed to

cultivate any crops the soil will yield. Tobacco is cheap, and every

quality can be produced. Its use is by no means so general as when I

first visited the country.

Gradually the "Army of Occupation" assembled at Corpus Christi. When it

was all together it consisted of seven companies of the 2d regiment of

dragoons, four companies of light artillery, five regiments of infantry

--the 3d, 4th, 5th, 7th and 8th--and one regiment of artillery acting as

infantry--not more than three thousand men in all. General Zachary

Taylor commanded the whole. There were troops enough in one body to

establish a drill and discipline sufficient to fit men and officers for

all they were capable of in case of battle. The rank and file were

composed of men who had enlisted in time of peace, to serve for seven

dollars a month, and were necessarily inferior as material to the

average volunteers enlisted later in the war expressly to fight, and

also to the volunteers in the war for the preservation of the Union.

The men engaged in the Mexican war were brave, and the officers of the

regular army, from highest to lowest, were educated in their profession.

A more efficient army for its number and armament, I do not believe ever

fought a battle than the one commanded by General Taylor in his first

two engagements on Mexican--or Texan soil.

The presence of United States troops on the edge of the disputed

territory furthest from the Mexican settlements, was not sufficient to

provoke hostilities. We were sent to provoke a fight, but it was

essential that Mexico should commence it. It was very doubtful whether

Congress would declare war; but if Mexico should attack our troops, the

Executive could announce, "Whereas, war exists by the acts of, etc.,"

and prosecute the contest with vigor. Once initiated there were but few

public men who would have the courage to oppose it. Experience proves

that the man who obstructs a war in which his nation is engaged, no

matter whether right or wrong, occupies no enviable place in life or

history. Better for him, individually, to advocate "war, pestilence,

and famine," than to act as obstructionist to a war already begun. The

history of the defeated rebel will be honorable hereafter, compared with

that of the Northern man who aided him by conspiring against his

government while protected by it. The most favorable posthumous history

the stay-at-home traitor can hope for is--oblivion.

Mexico showing no willingness to come to the Nueces to drive the

invaders from her soil, it became necessary for the "invaders" to

approach to within a convenient distance to be struck. Accordingly,

preparations were begun for moving the army to the Rio Grande, to a

point near Matamoras. It was desirable to occupy a position near the

largest centre of population possible to reach, without absolutely

invading territory to which we set up no claim whatever.

The distance from Corpus Christi to Matamoras is about one hundred and

fifty miles. The country does not abound in fresh water, and the length

of the marches had to be regulated by the distance between water

supplies. Besides the streams, there were occasional pools, filled

during the rainy season, some probably made by the traders, who

travelled constantly between Corpus Christi and the Rio Grande, and some

by the buffalo. There was not at that time a single habitation,

cultivated field, or herd of domestic animals, between Corpus Christi

and Matamoras. It was necessary, therefore, to have a wagon train

sufficiently large to transport the camp and garrison equipage,

officers' baggage, rations for the army, and part rations of grain for

the artillery horses and all the animals taken from the north, where

they had been accustomed to having their forage furnished them. The

army was but indifferently supplied with transportation. Wagons and

harness could easily be supplied from the north but mules and horses

could not so readily be brought. The American traders and Mexican

smugglers came to the relief. Contracts were made for mules at from

eight to eleven dollars each. The smugglers furnished the animals, and

took their pay in goods of the description before mentioned. I doubt

whether the Mexicans received in value from the traders five dollars per

head for the animals they furnished, and still more, whether they paid

anything but their own time in procuring them. Such is trade; such is

war. The government paid in hard cash to the contractor the stipulated

price.

Between the Rio Grande and the Nueces there was at that time a large

band of wild horses feeding; as numerous, probably, as the band of

buffalo roaming further north was before its rapid extermination

commenced. The Mexicans used to capture these in large numbers and

bring them into the American settlements and sell them. A picked animal

could be purchased at from eight to twelve dollars, but taken at

wholesale, they could be bought for thirty-six dollars a dozen. Some of

these were purchased for the army, and answered a most useful purpose.

The horses were generally very strong, formed much like the Norman

horse, and with very heavy manes and tails. A number of officers

supplied themselves with these, and they generally rendered as useful

service as the northern animal; in fact they were much better when

grazing was the only means of supplying forage.

There was no need for haste, and some months were consumed in the

necessary preparations for a move. In the meantime the army was engaged

in all the duties pertaining to the officer and the soldier. Twice,

that I remember, small trains were sent from Corpus Christi, with

cavalry escorts, to San Antonio and Austin, with paymasters and funds to

pay off small detachments of troops stationed at those places. General

Taylor encouraged officers to accompany these expeditions. I

accompanied one of them in December, 1845. The distance from Corpus

Christi to San Antonio was then computed at one hundred and fifty miles.

Now that roads exist it is probably less. From San Antonio to Austin we

computed the distance at one hundred and ten miles, and from the latter

place back to Corpus Christi at over two hundred miles. I know the

distance now from San Antonio to Austin is but little over eighty miles,

so that our computation was probably too high.

There was not at the time an individual living between Corpus Christi

and San Antonio until within about thirty miles of the latter point,

where there were a few scattering Mexican settlements along the San

Antonio River. The people in at least one of these hamlets lived

underground for protection against the Indians. The country abounded in

game, such as deer and antelope, with abundance of wild turkeys along

the streams and where there were nut-bearing woods. On the Nueces,

about twenty-five miles up from Corpus Christi, were a few log cabins,

the remains of a town called San Patricio, but the inhabitants had all

been massacred by the Indians, or driven away.

San Antonio was about equally divided in population between Americans

and Mexicans. From there to Austin there was not a single residence

except at New Braunfels, on the Guadalupe River. At that point was a

settlement of Germans who had only that year come into the State. At

all events they were living in small huts, about such as soldiers would

hastily construct for temporary occupation. From Austin to Corpus

Christi there was only a small settlement at Bastrop, with a few farms

along the Colorado River; but after leaving that, there were no

settlements except the home of one man, with one female slave, at the

old town of Goliad. Some of the houses were still standing. Goliad had

been quite a village for the period and region, but some years before

there had been a Mexican massacre, in which every inhabitant had been

killed or driven away. This, with the massacre of the prisoners in the

Alamo, San Antonio, about the same time, more than three hundred men in

all, furnished the strongest justification the Texans had for carrying

on the war with so much cruelty. In fact, from that time until the

Mexican war, the hostilities between Texans and Mexicans was so great

that neither was safe in the neighborhood of the other who might be in

superior numbers or possessed of superior arms. The man we found living

there seemed like an old friend; he had come from near Fort Jessup,

Louisiana, where the officers of the 3d and 4th infantry and the 2d

dragoons had known him and his family. He had emigrated in advance of

his family to build up a home for them.

CHAPTER V.

TRIP TO AUSTIN--PROMOTION TO FULL SECOND LIEUTENANT--ARMY OF OCCUPATION.

When our party left Corpus Christi it was quite large, including the

cavalry escort, Paymaster, Major Dix, his clerk and the officers who,

like myself, were simply on leave; but all the officers on leave, except

Lieutenant Benjamin--afterwards killed in the valley of Mexico

--Lieutenant, now General, Augur, and myself, concluded to spend their

allotted time at San Antonio and return from there. We were all to be

back at Corpus Christi by the end of the month. The paymaster was

detained in Austin so long that, if we had waited for him, we would have

exceeded our leave. We concluded, therefore, to start back at once with

the animals we had, and having to rely principally on grass for their

food, it was a good six days' journey. We had to sleep on the prairie

every night, except at Goliad, and possibly one night on the Colorado,

without shelter and with only such food as we carried with us, and

prepared ourselves. The journey was hazardous on account of Indians,

and there were white men in Texas whom I would not have cared to meet in

a secluded place. Lieutenant Augur was taken seriously sick before we

reached Goliad and at a distance from any habitation. To add to the

complication, his horse--a mustang that had probably been captured from

the band of wild horses before alluded to, and of undoubted longevity at

his capture--gave out. It was absolutely necessary to get for ward to

Goliad to find a shelter for our sick companion. By dint of patience

and exceedingly slow movements, Goliad was at last reached, and a

shelter and bed secured for our patient. We remained over a day, hoping

that Augur might recover sufficiently to resume his travels. He did

not, however, and knowing that Major Dix would be along in a few days,

with his wagon-train, now empty, and escort, we arranged with our

Louisiana friend to take the best of care of the sick lieutenant until

thus relieved, and went on.

I had never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever gone in

search of game, and rarely seen any when looking for it. On this trip

there was no minute of time while travelling between San Patricio and

the settlements on the San Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin,

and again from the Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or

antelope could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a

shot-gun, and every evening, after going into camp, some would go out

and soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for the entire

camp. I, however, never went out, and had no occasion to fire my gun;

except, being detained over a day at Goliad, Benjamin and I concluded to

go down to the creek--which was fringed with timber, much of it the

pecan--and bring back a few turkeys. We had scarcely reached the edge

of the timber when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an

instant I saw two or three turkeys flying away. These were soon

followed by more, then more, and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty

had left from just over my head. All this time I stood watching the

turkeys to see where they flew--with my gun on my shoulder, and never

once thought of levelling it at the birds. When I had time to reflect

upon the matter, I came to the conclusion that as a sportsman I was a

failure, and went back to the house. Benjamin remained out, and got as

many turkeys as he wanted to carry back.

After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to make the

remainder of the journey alone. We reached Corpus Christi just in time

to avoid "absence without leave." We met no one not even an Indian

--during the remainder of our journey, except at San Patricio. A new

settlement had been started there in our absence of three weeks, induced

possibly by the fact that there were houses already built, while the

proximity of troops gave protection against the Indians. On the evening

of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly howling of

wolves, directly in our front. The prairie grass was tall and we could

not see the beasts, but the sound indicated that they were near. To my

ear it appeared that there must have been enough of them to devour our

party, horses and all, at a single meal. The part of Ohio that I hailed

from was not thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before

I left. Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the wolf

yet roamed over the prairies. He understood the nature of the animal

and the capacity of a few to make believe there was an unlimited number

of them. He kept on towards the noise, unmoved. I followed in his

trail, lacking moral courage to turn back and join our sick companion.

I have no doubt that if Benjamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I

would not only have "seconded the motion" but have suggested that it

was very hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first

place; but Benjamin did not propose turning back. When he did speak it

was to ask: "Grant, how many wolves do you think there are in that

pack?" Knowing where he was from, and suspecting that he thought I would

over-estimate the number, I determined to show my acquaintance with the

animal by putting the estimate below what possibly could be correct, and

answered: "Oh, about twenty," very indifferently. He smiled and rode

on. In a minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us. There

were just TWO of them. Seated upon their haunches, with their mouths

close together, they had made all the noise we had been hearing for the

past ten minutes. I have often thought of this incident since when I

have heard the noise of a few disappointed politicians who had deserted

their associates. There are always more of them before they are

counted.

A week or two before leaving Corpus Christi on this trip, I had been

promoted from brevet second-lieutenant, 4th infantry, to full

second-lieutenant, 7th infantry. Frank Gardner,(*1) of the 7th, was

promoted to the 4th in the same orders. We immediately made application

to be transferred, so as to get back to our old regiments. On my

return, I found that our application had been approved at Washington.

While in the 7th infantry I was in the company of Captain Holmes,

afterwards a Lieutenant-general in the Confederate army. I never came in

contact with him in the war of the Rebellion, nor did he render any very

conspicuous service in his high rank. My transfer carried me to the

company of Captain McCall, who resigned from the army after the Mexican

war and settled in Philadelphia. He was prompt, however, to volunteer

when the rebellion broke out, and soon rose to the rank of major-general

in the Union army. I was not fortunate enough to meet him after he

resigned. In the old army he was esteemed very highly as a soldier and

gentleman. Our relations were always most pleasant.

The preparations at Corpus Christi for an advance progressed as rapidly

in the absence of some twenty or more lieutenants as if we had been

there. The principal business consisted in securing mules, and getting

them broken to harness. The process was slow but amusing. The animals

sold to the government were all young and unbroken, even to the saddle,

and were quite as wild as the wild horses of the prairie. Usually a

number would be brought in by a company of Mexicans, partners in the

delivery. The mules were first driven into a stockade, called a corral,

inclosing an acre or more of ground. The Mexicans,--who were all

experienced in throwing the lasso,--would go into the corral on

horseback, with their lassos attached to the pommels of their saddles.

Soldiers detailed as teamsters and black smiths would also enter the

corral, the former with ropes to serve as halters, the latter with

branding irons and a fire to keep the irons heated. A lasso was then

thrown over the neck of a mule, when he would immediately go to the

length of his tether, first one end, then the other in the air. While

he was thus plunging and gyrating, another lasso would be thrown by

another Mexican, catching the animal by a fore-foot. This would bring

the mule to the ground, when he was seized and held by the teamsters

while the blacksmith put upon him, with hot irons, the initials "U. S."

Ropes were then put about the neck, with a slipnoose which would tighten

around the throat if pulled. With a man on each side holding these

ropes, the mule was released from his other bindings and allowed to

rise. With more or less difficulty he would be conducted to a picket

rope outside and fastened there. The delivery of that mule was then

complete. This process was gone through with every mule and wild horse

with the army of occupation.

The method of breaking them was less cruel and much more amusing. It is

a well-known fact that where domestic animals are used for specific

purposes from generation to generation, the descendants are easily, as a

rule, subdued to the same uses. At that time in Northern Mexico the

mule, or his ancestors, the horse and the ass, was seldom used except

for the saddle or pack. At all events the Corpus Christi mule resisted

the new use to which he was being put. The treatment he was subjected

to in order to overcome his prejudices was summary and effective.

The soldiers were principally foreigners who had enlisted in our large

cities, and, with the exception of a chance drayman among them, it is

not probable that any of the men who reported themselves as competent

teamsters had ever driven a mule-team in their lives, or indeed that

many had had any previous experience in driving any animal whatever to

harness. Numbers together can accomplish what twice their number acting

individually could not perform. Five mules were allotted to each wagon.

A teamster would select at the picket rope five animals of nearly the

same color and general appearance for his team. With a full corps of

assistants, other teamsters, he would then proceed to get his mules

together. In two's the men would approach each animal selected,

avoiding as far as possible its heels. Two ropes would be put about the

neck of each animal, with a slip noose, so that he could be choked if

too unruly. They were then led out, harnessed by force and hitched to

the wagon in the position they had to keep ever after. Two men remained

on either side of the leader, with the lassos about its neck, and one

man retained the same restraining influence over each of the others.

All being ready, the hold would be slackened and the team started. The

first motion was generally five mules in the air at one time, backs

bowed, hind feet extended to the rear. After repeating this movement a

few times the leaders would start to run. This would bring the

breeching tight against the mules at the wheels, which these last seemed

to regard as a most unwarrantable attempt at coercion and would resist

by taking a seat, sometimes going so far as to lie down. In time all

were broken in to do their duty submissively if not cheerfully, but

there never was a time during the war when it was safe to let a Mexican

mule get entirely loose. Their drivers were all teamsters by the time

they got through.

I recollect one case of a mule that had worked in a team under the

saddle, not only for some time at Corpus Christi, where he was broken,

but all the way to the point opposite Matamoras, then to Camargo, where

he got loose from his fastenings during the night. He did not run away

at first, but staid in the neighborhood for a day or two, coming up

sometimes to the feed trough even; but on the approach of the teamster

he always got out of the way. At last, growing tired of the constant

effort to catch him, he disappeared altogether. Nothing short of a

Mexican with his lasso could have caught him. Regulations would not

have warranted the expenditure of a dollar in hiring a man with a lasso

to catch that mule; but they did allow the expenditure "of the mule," on

a certificate that he had run away without any fault of the

quartermaster on whose returns he was borne, and also the purchase of

another to take his place. I am a competent witness, for I was

regimental quartermaster at the time.

While at Corpus Christi all the officers who had a fancy for riding kept

horses. The animals cost but little in the first instance, and when

picketed they would get their living without any cost. I had three not

long before the army moved, but a sad accident bereft me of them all at

one time. A colored boy who gave them all the attention they got

--besides looking after my tent and that of a class-mate and

fellow-lieutenant and cooking for us, all for about eight dollars per

month, was riding one to water and leading the other two. The led

horses pulled him from his seat and all three ran away. They never were

heard of afterwards. Shortly after that some one told Captain Bliss,

General Taylor's Adjutant-General, of my misfortune. "Yes; I heard

Grant lost five or six dollars' worth of horses the other day," he

replied. That was a slander; they were broken to the saddle when I got

them and cost nearly twenty dollars. I never suspected the colored boy

of malicious intent in letting them get away, because, if they had not

escaped, he could have had one of them to ride on the long march then in

prospect.

CHAPTER VI.

ADVANCE OF THE ARMY--CROSSING THE COLORADO--THE RIO GRANDE.

At last the preparations were complete and orders were issued for the

advance to begin on the 8th of March. General Taylor had an army of not

more than three thousand men. One battery, the siege guns and all the

convalescent troops were sent on by water to Brazos Santiago, at the

mouth of the Rio Grande. A guard was left back at Corpus Christi to

look after public property and to take care of those who were too sick

to be removed. The remainder of the army, probably not more than twenty

five hundred men, was divided into three brigades, with the cavalry

independent. Colonel Twiggs, with seven companies of dragoons and a

battery of light artillery, moved on the 8th. He was followed by the

three infantry brigades, with a day's interval between the commands.

Thus the rear brigade did not move from Corpus Christi until the 11th of

March. In view of the immense bodies of men moved on the same day over

narrow roads, through dense forests and across large streams, in our

late war, it seems strange now that a body of less than three thousand

men should have been broken into four columns, separated by a day's

march.

General Taylor was opposed to anything like plundering by the troops,

and in this instance, I doubt not, he looked upon the enemy as the

aggrieved party and was not willing to injure them further than his

instructions from Washington demanded. His orders to the troops

enjoined scrupulous regard for the rights of all peaceable persons and

the payment of the highest price for all supplies taken for the use of

the army.

All officers of foot regiments who had horses were permitted to ride

them on the march when it did not interfere with their military duties.

As already related, having lost my "five or six dollars' worth of

horses" but a short time before I determined not to get another, but to

make the journey on foot. My company commander, Captain McCall, had two

good American horses, of considerably more value in that country, where

native horses were cheap, than they were in the States. He used one

himself and wanted the other for his servant. He was quite anxious to

know whether I did not intend to get me another horse before the march

began. I told him No; I belonged to a foot regiment. I did not

understand the object of his solicitude at the time, but, when we were

about to start, he said: "There, Grant, is a horse for you." I found

that he could not bear the idea of his servant riding on a long march

while his lieutenant went a-foot. He had found a mustang, a three-year

old colt only recently captured, which had been purchased by one of the

colored servants with the regiment for the sum of three dollars. It was

probably the only horse at Corpus Christi that could have been purchased

just then for any reasonable price. Five dollars, sixty-six and

two-thirds per cent. advance, induced the owner to part with the

mustang. I was sorry to take him, because I really felt that, belonging

to a foot regiment, it was my duty to march with the men. But I saw the

Captain's earnestness in the matter, and accepted the horse for the

trip. The day we started was the first time the horse had ever been

under saddle. I had, however, but little difficulty in breaking him,

though for the first day there were frequent disagreements between us as

to which way we should go, and sometimes whether we should go at all.

At no time during the day could I choose exactly the part of the column

I would march with; but after that, I had as tractable a horse as any

with the army, and there was none that stood the trip better. He never

ate a mouthful of food on the journey except the grass he could pick

within the length of his picket rope.

A few days out from Corpus Christi, the immense herd of wild horses that

ranged at that time between the Nueces and the Rio Grande was seen

directly in advance of the head of the column and but a few miles off.

It was the very band from which the horse I was riding had been captured

but a few weeks before. The column was halted for a rest, and a number

of officers, myself among them, rode out two or three miles to the right

to see the extent of the herd. The country was a rolling prairie, and,

from the higher ground, the vision was obstructed only by the earth's

curvature. As far as the eye could reach to our right, the herd

extended. To the left, it extended equally. There was no estimating the

number of animals in it; I have no idea that they could all have been

corralled in the State of Rhode Island, or Delaware, at one time. If

they had been, they would have been so thick that the pasturage would

have given out the first day. People who saw the Southern herd of

buffalo, fifteen or twenty years ago, can appreciate the size of the

Texas band of wild horses in 1846.

At the point where the army struck the Little Colorado River, the stream

was quite wide and of sufficient depth for navigation. The water was

brackish and the banks were fringed with timber. Here the whole army

concentrated before attempting to cross. The army was not accompanied by

a pontoon train, and at that time the troops were not instructed in

bridge building. To add to the embarrassment of the situation, the army

was here, for the first time, threatened with opposition. Buglers,

concealed from our view by the brush on the opposite side, sounded the

"assembly," and other military calls. Like the wolves before spoken of,

they gave the impression that there was a large number of them and that,

if the troops were in proportion to the noise, they were sufficient to

devour General Taylor and his army. There were probably but few troops,

and those engaged principally in watching the movements of the

"invader." A few of our cavalry dashed in, and forded and swam the

stream, and all opposition was soon dispersed. I do not remember that a

single shot was fired.

The troops waded the stream, which was up to their necks in the deepest

part. Teams were crossed by attaching a long rope to the end of the

wagon tongue passing it between the two swing mules and by the side of

the leader, hitching his bridle as well as the bridle of the mules in

rear to it, and carrying the end to men on the opposite shore. The bank

down to the water was steep on both sides. A rope long enough to cross

the river, therefore, was attached to the back axle of the wagon, and

men behind would hold the rope to prevent the wagon "beating" the mules

into the water. This latter rope also served the purpose of bringing

the end of the forward one back, to be used over again. The water was

deep enough for a short distance to swim the little Mexican mules which

the army was then using, but they, and the wagons, were pulled through

so fast by the men at the end of the rope ahead, that no time was left

them to show their obstinacy. In this manner the artillery and

transportation of the "army of occupation" crossed the Colorado River.

About the middle of the month of March the advance of the army reached

the Rio Grande and went into camp near the banks of the river, opposite

the city of Matamoras and almost under the guns of a small fort at the

lower end of the town. There was not at that time a single habitation

from Corpus Christi until the Rio Grande was reached.

The work of fortifying was commenced at once. The fort was laid out by

the engineers, but the work was done by the soldiers under the

supervision of their officers, the chief engineer retaining general

directions. The Mexicans now became so incensed at our near approach

that some of their troops crossed the river above us, and made it unsafe

for small bodies of men to go far beyond the limits of camp. They

captured two companies of dragoons, commanded by Captains Thornton and

Hardee. The latter figured as a general in the late war, on the

Confederate side, and was author of the tactics first used by both

armies. Lieutenant Theodric Porter, of the 4th infantry, was killed

while out with a small detachment; and Major Cross, the assistant

quartermaster-general, had also been killed not far from camp.

There was no base of supplies nearer than Point Isabel, on the coast,

north of the mouth of the Rio Grande and twenty-five miles away. The

enemy, if the Mexicans could be called such at this time when no war had

been declared, hovered about in such numbers that it was not safe to

send a wagon train after supplies with any escort that could be spared.

I have already said that General Taylor's whole command on the Rio

Grande numbered less than three thousand men. He had, however, a few

more troops at Point Isabel or Brazos Santiago. The supplies brought

from Corpus Christi in wagons were running short. Work was therefore

pushed with great vigor on the defences, to enable the minimum number of

troops to hold the fort. All the men who could be employed, were kept

at work from early dawn until darkness closed the labors of the day.

With all this the fort was not completed until the supplies grew so

short that further delay in obtaining more could not be thought of. By

the latter part of April the work was in a partially defensible

condition, and the 7th infantry, Major Jacob Brown commanding, was

marched in to garrison it, with some few pieces of artillery. All the

supplies on hand, with the exception of enough to carry the rest of the

army to Point Isabel, were left with the garrison, and the march was

commenced with the remainder of the command, every wagon being taken

with the army. Early on the second day after starting the force reached

its destination, without opposition from the Mexicans. There was some

delay in getting supplies ashore from vessels at anchor in the open

roadstead.

CHAPTER VII.

THE MEXICAN WAR--THE BATTLE OF PALO ALTO--THE BATTLE OF RESACA DE LA

PALMA--ARMY OF INVASION--GENERAL TAYLOR--MOVEMENT ON CAMARGO.

While General Taylor was away with the bulk of his army, the little

garrison up the river was besieged. As we lay in our tents upon the

sea-shore, the artillery at the fort on the Rio Grande could be

distinctly heard.

The war had begun.

There were no possible means of obtaining news from the garrison, and

information from outside could not be otherwise than unfavorable. What

General Taylor's feelings were during this suspense I do not know; but

for myself, a young second-lieutenant who had never heard a hostile gun

before, I felt sorry that I had enlisted. A great many men, when they

smell battle afar off, chafe to get into the fray. When they say so

themselves they generally fail to convince their hearers that they are

as anxious as they would like to make believe, and as they approach

danger they become more subdued. This rule is not universal, for I have

known a few men who were always aching for a fight when there was no

enemy near, who were as good as their word when the battle did come.

But the number of such men is small.

On the 7th of May the wagons were all loaded and General Taylor started

on his return, with his army reinforced at Point Isabel, but still less

than three thousand strong, to relieve the garrison on the Rio Grande.

The road from Point Isabel to Matamoras is over an open, rolling,

treeless prairie, until the timber that borders the bank of the Rio

Grande is reached. This river, like the Mississippi, flows through a

rich alluvial valley in the most meandering manner, running towards all

points of the compass at times within a few miles. Formerly the river

ran by Resaca de la Palma, some four or five miles east of the present

channel. The old bed of the river at Resaca had become filled at

places, leaving a succession of little lakes. The timber that had

formerly grown upon both banks, and for a considerable distance out, was

still standing. This timber was struck six or eight miles out from the

besieged garrison, at a point known as Palo Alto--"Tall trees" or

"woods."

Early in the forenoon of the 8th of May as Palo Alto was approached, an

army, certainly outnumbering our little force, was seen, drawn up in

line of battle just in front of the timber. Their bayonets and

spearheads glistened in the sunlight formidably. The force was composed

largely of cavalry armed with lances. Where we were the grass was tall,

reaching nearly to the shoulders of the men, very stiff, and each stock

was pointed at the top, and hard and almost as sharp as a

darning-needle. General Taylor halted his army before the head of column

came in range of the artillery of the Mexicans. He then formed a line

of battle, facing the enemy. His artillery, two batteries and two

eighteen-pounder iron guns, drawn by oxen, were placed in position at

intervals along the line. A battalion was thrown to the rear, commanded

by Lieutenant-Colonel Childs, of the artillery, as reserves. These

preparations completed, orders were given for a platoon of each company

to stack arms and go to a stream off to the right of the command, to

fill their canteens and also those of the rest of their respective

companies. When the men were all back in their places in line, the

command to advance was given. As I looked down that long line of about

three thousand armed men, advancing towards a larger force also armed,

I thought what a fearful responsibility General Taylor must feel,

commanding such a host and so far away from friends. The Mexicans

immediately opened fire upon us, first with artillery and then with

infantry. At first their shots did not reach us, and the advance was

continued. As we got nearer, the cannon balls commenced going through

the ranks. They hurt no one, however, during this advance, because they

would strike the ground long before they reached our line, and

ricochetted through the tall grass so slowly that the men would see them

and open ranks and let them pass. When we got to a point where the

artillery could be used with effect, a halt was called, and the battle

opened on both sides.

The infantry under General Taylor was armed with flint-lock muskets, and

paper cartridges charged with powder, buck-shot and ball. At the

distance of a few hundred yards a man might fire at you all day without

your finding it out. The artillery was generally six-pounder brass guns

throwing only solid shot; but General Taylor had with him three or four

twelve-pounder howitzers throwing shell, besides his eighteen-pounders

before spoken of, that had a long range. This made a powerful armament.

The Mexicans were armed about as we were so far as their infantry was

concerned, but their artillery only fired solid shot. We had greatly

the advantage in this arm.

The artillery was advanced a rod or two in front of the line, and opened

fire. The infantry stood at order arms as spectators, watching the

effect of our shots upon the enemy, and watching his shots so as to step

out of their way. It could be seen that the eighteen-pounders and the

howitzers did a great deal of execution. On our side there was little

or no loss while we occupied this position. During the battle Major

Ringgold, an accomplished and brave artillery officer, was mortally

wounded, and Lieutenant Luther, also of the artillery, was struck.

During the day several advances were made, and just at dusk it became

evident that the Mexicans were falling back. We again advanced, and

occupied at the close of the battle substantially the ground held by the

enemy at the beginning. In this last move there was a brisk fire upon

our troops, and some execution was done. One cannon-ball passed through

our ranks, not far from me. It took off the head of an enlisted man,

and the under jaw of Captain Page of my regiment, while the splinters

from the musket of the killed soldier, and his brains and bones, knocked

down two or three others, including one officer, Lieutenant Wallen,

--hurting them more or less. Our casualties for the day were nine killed

and forty-seven wounded.

At the break of day on the 9th, the army under Taylor was ready to renew

the battle; but an advance showed that the enemy had entirely left our

front during the night. The chaparral before us was impenetrable except

where there were roads or trails, with occasionally clear or bare spots

of small dimensions. A body of men penetrating it might easily be

ambushed. It was better to have a few men caught in this way than the

whole army, yet it was necessary that the garrison at the river should

be relieved. To get to them the chaparral had to be passed. Thus I

assume General Taylor reasoned. He halted the army not far in advance

of the ground occupied by the Mexicans the day before, and selected

Captain C. F. Smith, of the artillery, and Captain McCall, of my

company, to take one hundred and fifty picked men each and find where

the enemy had gone. This left me in command of the company, an honor

and responsibility I thought very great.

Smith and McCall found no obstruction in the way of their advance until

they came up to the succession of ponds, before describes, at Resaca.

The Mexicans had passed them and formed their lines on the opposite

bank. This position they had strengthened a little by throwing up dead

trees and brush in their front, and by placing artillery to cover the

approaches and open places. Smith and McCall deployed on each side of

the road as well as they could, and engaged the enemy at long range.

Word was sent back, and the advance of the whole army was at once

commenced. As we came up we were deployed in like manner. I was with

the right wing, and led my company through the thicket wherever a

penetrable place could be found, taking advantage of any clear spot that

would carry me towards the enemy. At last I got pretty close up without

knowing it. The balls commenced to whistle very thick overhead, cutting

the limbs of the chaparral right and left. We could not see the enemy,

so I ordered my men to lie down, an order that did not have to be

enforced. We kept our position until it became evident that the enemy

were not firing at us, and then withdrew to find better ground to

advance upon.

By this time some progress had been made on our left. A section of

artillery had been captured by the cavalry, and some prisoners had been

taken. The Mexicans were giving way all along the line, and many of

them had, no doubt, left early. I at last found a clear space

separating two ponds. There seemed to be a few men in front and I

charged upon them with my company.

There was no resistance, and we captured a Mexican colonel, who had been

wounded, and a few men. Just as I was sending them to the rear with a

guard of two or three men, a private came from the front bringing back

one of our officers, who had been badly wounded in advance of where I

was. The ground had been charged over before. My exploit was equal to

that of the soldier who boasted that he had cut off the leg of one of

the enemy. When asked why he did not cut off his head, he replied:

"Some one had done that before." This left no doubt in my mind but that

the battle of Resaca de la Palma would have been won, just as it was, if

I had not been there. There was no further resistance. The evening of

the 9th the army was encamped on its old ground near the Fort, and the

garrison was relieved. The siege had lasted a number of days, but the

casualties were few in number. Major Jacob Brown, of the 7th infantry,

the commanding officer, had been killed, and in his honor the fort was

named. Since then a town of considerable importance has sprung up on the

ground occupied by the fort and troops, which has also taken his name.

The battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma seemed to us engaged, as

pretty important affairs; but we had only a faint conception of their

magnitude until they were fought over in the North by the Press and the

reports came back to us. At the same time, or about the same time, we

learned that war existed between the United States and Mexico, by the

acts of the latter country. On learning this fact General Taylor

transferred our camps to the south or west bank of the river, and

Matamoras was occupied. We then became the "Army of Invasion."

Up to this time Taylor had none but regular troops in his command; but

now that invasion had already taken place, volunteers for one year

commenced arriving. The army remained at Matamoras until sufficiently

reinforced to warrant a movement into the interior. General Taylor was

not an officer to trouble the administration much with his demands, but

was inclined to do the best he could with the means given him. He felt

his responsibility as going no further. If he had thought that he was

sent to perform an impossibility with the means given him, he would

probably have informed the authorities of his opinion and left them to

determine what should be done. If the judgment was against him he would

have gone on and done the best he could with the means at hand without

parading his grievance before the public. No soldier could face either

danger or responsibility more calmly than he. These are qualities more

rarely found than genius or physical courage.

General Taylor never made any great show or parade, either of uniform or

retinue. In dress he was possibly too plain, rarely wearing anything in

the field to indicate his rank, or even that he was an officer; but he

was known to every soldier in his army, and was respected by all. I can

call to mind only one instance when I saw him in uniform, and one other

when I heard of his wearing it, On both occasions he was unfortunate.

The first was at Corpus Christi. He had concluded to review his army

before starting on the march and gave orders accordingly. Colonel

Twiggs was then second in rank with the army, and to him was given the

command of the review. Colonel and Brevet Brigadier-General Worth, a

far different soldier from Taylor in the use of the uniform, was next to

Twiggs in rank, and claimed superiority by virtue of his brevet rank

when the accidents of service threw them where one or the other had to

command. Worth declined to attend the review as subordinate to Twiggs

until the question was settled by the highest authority. This broke up

the review, and the question was referred to Washington for final

decision.

General Taylor was himself only a colonel, in real rank, at that time,

and a brigadier-general by brevet. He was assigned to duty, however, by

the President, with the rank which his brevet gave him. Worth was not

so assigned, but by virtue of commanding a division he must, under the

army regulations of that day, have drawn the pay of his brevet rank.

The question was submitted to Washington, and no response was received

until after the army had reached the Rio Grande. It was decided against

General Worth, who at once tendered his resignation and left the army,

going north, no doubt, by the same vessel that carried it. This kept

him out of the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. Either the

resignation was not accepted, or General Worth withdrew it before action

had been taken. At all events he returned to the army in time to

command his division in the battle of Monterey, and served with it to

the end of the war.

The second occasion on which General Taylor was said to have donned his

uniform, was in order to receive a visit from the Flag Officer of the

naval squadron off the mouth of the Rio Grande. While the army was on

that river the Flag Officer sent word that he would call on the General

to pay his respects on a certain day. General Taylor, knowing that

naval officers habitually wore all the uniform the "law allowed" on all

occasions of ceremony, thought it would be only civil to receive his

guest in the same style. His uniform was therefore got out, brushed up,

and put on, in advance of the visit. The Flag Officer, knowing General

Taylor's aversion to the wearing of the uniform, and feeling that it

would be regarded as a compliment should he meet him in civilian's

dress, left off his uniform for this occasion. The meeting was said to

have been embarrassing to both, and the conversation was principally

apologetic.

The time was whiled away pleasantly enough at Matamoras, while we were

waiting for volunteers. It is probable that all the most important

people of the territory occupied by our army left their homes before we

got there, but with those remaining the best of relations apparently

existed. It was the policy of the Commanding General to allow no

pillaging, no taking of private property for public or individual use

without satisfactory compensation, so that a better market was afforded

than the people had ever known before.

Among the troops that joined us at Matamoras was an Ohio regiment, of

which Thomas L. Hamer, the Member of Congress who had given me my

appointment to West Point, was major. He told me then that he could

have had the colonelcy, but that as he knew he was to be appointed a

brigadier-general, he preferred at first to take the lower grade. I

have said before that Hamer was one of the ablest men Ohio ever

produced. At that time he was in the prime of life, being less than

fifty years of age, and possessed an admirable physique, promising long

life. But he was taken sick before Monterey, and died within a few

days. I have always believed that had his life been spared, he would

have been President of the United States during the term filled by

President Pierce. Had Hamer filled that office his partiality for me

was such, there is but little doubt I should have been appointed to one

of the staff corps of the army--the Pay Department probably--and would

therefore now be preparing to retire. Neither of these speculations is

unreasonable, and they are mentioned to show how little men control

their own destiny.

Reinforcements having arrived, in the month of August the movement

commenced from Matamoras to Camargo, the head of navigation on the Rio

Grande. The line of the Rio Grande was all that was necessary to hold,

unless it was intended to invade Mexico from the North. In that case

the most natural route to take was the one which General Taylor

selected. It entered a pass in the Sierra Madre Mountains, at Monterey,

through which the main road runs to the City of Mexico. Monterey itself

was a good point to hold, even if the line of the Rio Grande covered all

the territory we desired to occupy at that time. It is built on a plain

two thousand feet above tide water, where the air is bracing and the

situation healthy.

On the 19th of August the army started for Monterey, leaving a small

garrison at Matamoras. The troops, with the exception of the artillery,

cavalry, and the brigade to which I belonged, were moved up the river to

Camargo on steamers. As there were but two or three of these, the boats

had to make a number of trips before the last of the troops were

up. Those who marched did so by the south side of the river.

Lieutenant-Colonel Garland, of the 4th infantry, was the brigade

commander, and on this occasion commanded the entire marching force.

One day out convinced him that marching by day in that latitude, in the

month of August, was not a beneficial sanitary measure, particularly for

Northern men. The order of marching was changed and night marches were

substituted with the best results.

When Camargo was reached, we found a city of tents outside the Mexican

hamlet. I was detailed to act as quartermaster and commissary to the

regiment. The teams that had proven abundantly sufficient to transport

all supplies from Corpus Christi to the Rio Grande over the level

prairies of Texas, were entirely inadequate to the needs of the

reinforced army in a mountainous country. To obviate the deficiency,

pack mules were hired, with Mexicans to pack and drive them. I had

charge of the few wagons allotted to the 4th infantry and of the pack

train to supplement them. There were not men enough in the army to

manage that train without the help of Mexicans who had learned how. As

it was the difficulty was great enough. The troops would take up their

march at an early hour each day. After they had started, the tents and

cooking utensils had to be made into packages, so that they could be

lashed to the backs of the mules. Sheet-iron kettles, tent-poles and

mess chests were inconvenient articles to transport in that way. It

took several hours to get ready to start each morning, and by the time

we were ready some of the mules first loaded would be tired of standing

so long with their loads on their backs. Sometimes one would start to

run, bowing his back and kicking up until he scattered his load; others

would lie down and try to disarrange their loads by attempting to get on

the top of them by rolling on them; others with tent-poles for part of

their loads would manage to run a tent-pole on one side of a sapling

while they would take the other. I am not aware of ever having used a

profane expletive in my life; but I would have the charity to excuse

those who may have done so, if they were in charge of a train of Mexican

pack mules at the time.

CHAPTER VIII.

ADVANCE ON MONTEREY--THE BLACK FORT--THE BATTLE OF MONTEREY--SURRENDER

OF THE CITY.

The advance from Camargo was commenced on the 5th of September. The army

was divided into four columns, separated from each other by one day's

march. The advance reached Cerralvo in four days and halted for the

remainder of the troops to come up. By the 13th the rear-guard had

arrived, and the same day the advance resumed its march, followed as

before, a day separating the divisions. The forward division halted

again at Marin, twenty-four miles from Monterey. Both this place and

Cerralvo were nearly deserted, and men, women and children were seen

running and scattered over the hills as we approached; but when the

people returned they found all their abandoned property safe, which must

have given them a favorable opinion of Los Grengos--"the Yankees." From

Marin the movement was in mass. On the 19th General Taylor, with is

army, was encamped at Walnut Springs, within three miles of Monterey.

The town is on a small stream coming out of the mountain-pass, and is

backed by a range of hills of moderate elevation. To the north, between

the city and Walnut Springs, stretches an extensive plain. On this

plain, and entirely outside of the last houses of the city, stood a

strong fort, enclosed on all sides, to which our army gave the name of

"Black Fort." Its guns commanded the approaches to the city to the full

extent of their range. There were two detached spurs of hills or

mountains to the north and northwest of the city, which were also

fortified. On one of these stood the Bishop's Palace. The road to

Saltillo leaves the upper or western end of the city under the fire of

the guns from these heights. The lower or eastern end was defended by

two or three small detached works, armed with artillery and infantry.

To the south was the mountain stream before mentioned, and back of that

the range of foot-hills. The plaza in the centre of the city was the

citadel, properly speaking. All the streets leading from it were swept

by artillery, cannon being intrenched behind temporary parapets. The

house-tops near the plaza were converted into infantry fortifications by

the use of sand-bags for parapets. Such were the defences of Monterey

in September, 1847. General Ampudia, with a force of certainly ten

thousand men, was in command.

General Taylor's force was about six thousand five hundred strong, in

three divisions, under Generals Butler, Twiggs and Worth. The troops

went into camp at Walnut Springs, while the engineer officers, under

Major Mansfield--a General in the late war--commenced their

reconnoissance. Major Mansfield found that it would be practicable to

get troops around, out of range of the Black Fort and the works on the

detached hills to the north-west of the city, to the Saltillo road.

With this road in our possession, the enemy would be cut off from

receiving further supplies, if not from all communication with the

interior. General Worth, with his division somewhat reinforced, was

given the task of gaining possession of the Saltillo road, and of

carrying the detached works outside the city, in that quarter. He

started on his march early in the afternoon of the 20th. The divisions

under Generals Butler and Twiggs were drawn up to threaten the east and

north sides of the city and the works on those fronts, in support of the

movement under General Worth. Worth's was regarded as the main attack on

Monterey, and all other operations were in support of it. His march

this day was uninterrupted; but the enemy was seen to reinforce heavily

about the Bishop's Palace and the other outside fortifications on their

left. General Worth reached a defensible position just out of range of

the enemy's guns on the heights north-west of the city, and bivouacked

for the night. The engineer officers with him--Captain Sanders and

Lieutenant George G. Meade, afterwards the commander of the victorious

National army at the battle of Gettysburg--made a reconnoissance to the

Saltillo road under cover of night.

During the night of the 20th General Taylor had established a battery,

consisting of two twenty-four-pounder howitzers and a ten inch mortar,

at a point from which they could play upon Black Fort. A natural

depression in the plain, sufficiently deep to protect men standing in it

from the fire from the fort, was selected and the battery established on

the crest nearest the enemy. The 4th infantry, then consisting of but

six reduced companies, was ordered to support the artillerists while

they were intrenching themselves and their guns. I was regimental

quartermaster at the time and was ordered to remain in charge of camp

and the public property at Walnut Springs. It was supposed that the

regiment would return to its camp in the morning.

The point for establishing the siege battery was reached and the work

performed without attracting the attention of the enemy. At daylight

the next morning fire was opened on both sides and continued with, what

seemed to me at that day, great fury. My curiosity got the better of my

judgment, and I mounted a horse and rode to the front to see what was

going on. I had been there but a short time when an order to charge was

given, and lacking the moral courage to return to camp--where I had been

ordered to stay--I charged with the regiment. As soon as the troops were

out of the depression they came under the fire of Black Fort. As they

advanced they got under fire from batteries guarding the east, or lower,

end of the city, and of musketry. About one-third of the men engaged in

the charge were killed or wounded in the space of a few minutes. We

retreated to get out of fire, not backward, but eastward and

perpendicular to the direct road running into the city from Walnut

Springs. I was, I believe, the only person in the 4th infantry in the

charge who was on horseback. When we got to a lace of safety the

regiment halted and drew itself together--what was left of it. The

adjutant of the regiment, Lieutenant Hoskins, who was not in robust

health, found himself very much fatigued from running on foot in the

charge and retreat, and, seeing me on horseback, expressed a wish that

he could be mounted also. I offered him my horse and he accepted the

offer. A few minutes later I saw a soldier, a quartermaster's man,

mounted, not far away. I ran to him, took his horse and was back with

the regiment in a few minutes. In a short time we were off again; and

the next place of safety from the shots of the enemy that I recollect of

being in, was a field of cane or corn to the north-east of the lower

batteries. The adjutant to whom I had loaned my horse was killed, and I

was designated to act in his place.

This charge was ill-conceived, or badly executed. We belonged to the

brigade commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Garland, and he had received

orders to charge the lower batteries of the city, and carry them if he

could without too much loss, for the purpose of creating a diversion in

favor of Worth, who was conducting the movement which it was intended

should be decisive. By a movement by the left flank Garland could have

led his men beyond the range of the fire from Black Fort and advanced

towards the northeast angle of the city, as well covered from fire as

could be expected. There was no undue loss of life in reaching the

lower end of Monterey, except that sustained by Garland's command.

Meanwhile Quitman's brigade, conducted by an officer of engineers, had

reached the eastern end of the city, and was placed under cover of the

houses without much loss. Colonel Garland's brigade also arrived at the

suburbs, and, by the assistance of some of our troops that had reached

house-tops from which they could fire into a little battery covering the

approaches to the lower end of the city, the battery was speedily

captured and its guns were turned upon another work of the enemy. An

entrance into the east end of the city was now secured, and the houses

protected our troops so long as they were inactive. On the west General

Worth had reached the Saltillo road after some fighting but without

heavy loss. He turned from his new position and captured the forts on

both heights in that quarter. This gave him possession of the upper or

west end of Monterey. Troops from both Twiggs's and Butler's divisions

were in possession of the east end of the town, but the Black Fort to

the north of the town and the plaza in the centre were still in the

possession of the enemy. Our camps at Walnut Springs, three miles away,

were guarded by a company from each regiment. A regiment of Kentucky

volunteers guarded the mortars and howitzers engaged against Black Fort.

Practically Monterey was invested.

There was nothing done on the 22d by the United States troops; but the

enemy kept up a harmless fire upon us from Black Fort and the batteries

still in their possession at the east end of the city. During the night

they evacuated these; so that on the morning of the 23d we held

undisputed possession of the east end of Monterey.

Twiggs's division was at the lower end of the city, and well covered

from the fire of the enemy. But the streets leading to the plaza--all

Spanish or Spanish-American towns have near their centres a square

called a plaza--were commanded from all directions by artillery. The

houses were flat-roofed and but one or two stories high, and about the

plaza the roofs were manned with infantry, the troops being protected

from our fire by parapets made of sand-bags. All advances into the city

were thus attended with much danger. While moving along streets which

did not lead to the plaza, our men were protected from the fire, and

from the view, of the enemy except at the crossings; but at these a

volley of musketry and a discharge of grape-shot were invariably

encountered. The 3d and 4th regiments of infantry made an advance

nearly to the plaza in this way and with heavy loss. The loss of the 3d

infantry in commissioned officers was especially severe. There were

only five companies of the regiment and not over twelve officers

present, and five of these officers were killed. When within a square

of the plaza this small command, ten companies in all, was brought to a

halt. Placing themselves under cover from the shots of the enemy, the

men would watch to detect a head above the sand-bags on the neighboring

houses. The exposure of a single head would bring a volley from our

soldiers.

We had not occupied this position long when it was discovered that our

ammunition was growing low. I volunteered to go back (*2) to the point

we had started from, report our position to General Twiggs, and ask for

ammunition to be forwarded. We were at this time occupying ground off

from the street, in rear of the houses. My ride back was an exposed

one. Before starting I adjusted myself on the side of my horse furthest

from the enemy, and with only one foot holding to the cantle of the

saddle, and an arm over the neck of the horse exposed, I started at full

run. It was only at street crossings that my horse was under fire, but

these I crossed at such a flying rate that generally I was past and

under cover of the next block of houses before the enemy fired. I got

out safely without a scratch.

At one place on my ride, I saw a sentry walking in front of a house, and

stopped to inquire what he was doing there. Finding that the house was

full of wounded American officers and soldiers, I dismounted and went

in. I found there Captain Williams, of the Engineer Corps, wounded in

the head, probably fatally, and Lieutenant Territt, also badly wounded

his bowels protruding from his wound. There were quite a number of

soldiers also. Promising them to report their situation, I left,

readjusted myself to my horse, recommenced the run, and was soon with

the troops at the east end. Before ammunition could be collected, the

two regiments I had been with were seen returning, running the same

gauntlet in getting out that they had passed in going in, but with

comparatively little loss. The movement was countermanded and the

troops were withdrawn. The poor wounded officers and men I had found,

fell into the hands of the enemy during the night, and died.

While this was going on at the east, General Worth, with a small

division of troops, was advancing towards the plaza from the opposite

end of the city. He resorted to a better expedient for getting to the

plaza--the citadel--than we did on the east. Instead of moving by the

open streets, he advanced through the houses, cutting passageways from

one to another. Without much loss of life, he got so near the plaza

during the night that before morning, Ampudia, the Mexican commander,

made overtures for the surrender of the city and garrison. This stopped

all further hostilities. The terms of surrender were soon agreed upon.

The prisoners were paroled and permitted to take their horses and

personal property with them.

My pity was aroused by the sight of the Mexican garrison of Monterey

marching out of town as prisoners, and no doubt the same feeling was

experienced by most of our army who witnessed it. Many of the prisoners

were cavalry, armed with lances, and mounted on miserable little

half-starved horses that did not look as if they could carry their

riders out of town. The men looked in but little better condition. I

thought how little interest the men before me had in the results of the

war, and how little knowledge they had of "what it was all about."

After the surrender of the garrison of Monterey a quiet camp life was

led until midwinter. As had been the case on the Rio Grande, the people

who remained at their homes fraternized with the "Yankees" in the

pleasantest manner. In fact, under the humane policy of our commander,

I question whether the great majority of the Mexican people did not

regret our departure as much as they had regretted our coming. Property

and person were thoroughly protected, and a market was afforded for all

the products of the country such as the people had never enjoyed before.

The educated and wealthy portion of the population here, as elsewhere,

abandoned their homes and remained away from them as long as they were

in the possession of the invaders; but this class formed a very small

percentage of the whole population.

CHAPTER IX.

POLITICAL INTRIGUE--BUENA VISTA--MOVEMENT AGAINST VERA CRUZ--SIEGE AND

CAPTURE OF VERA CRUZ.

The Mexican war was a political war, and the administration conducting

it desired to make party capital out of it. General Scott was at the

head of the army, and, being a soldier of acknowledged professional

capacity, his claim to the command of the forces in the field was almost

indisputable and does not seem to have been denied by President Polk, or

Marcy, his Secretary of War. Scott was a Whig and the administration

was democratic. General Scott was also known to have political

aspirations, and nothing so popularizes a candidate for high civil

positions as military victories. It would not do therefore to give him

command of the "army of conquest." The plans submitted by Scott for a

campaign in Mexico were disapproved by the administration, and he

replied, in a tone possibly a little disrespectful, to the effect that,

if a soldier's plans were not to be supported by the administration,

success could not be expected. This was on the 27th of May, 1846. Four

days later General Scott was notified that he need not go to Mexico.

General Gaines was next in rank, but he was too old and feeble to take

the field. Colonel Zachary Taylor--a brigadier-general by brevet--was

therefore left in command. He, too, was a Whig, but was not supposed to

entertain any political ambitions; nor did he; but after the fall of

Monterey, his third battle and third complete victory, the Whig papers

at home began to speak of him as the candidate of their party for the

Presidency. Something had to be done to neutralize his growing

popularity. He could not be relieved from duty in the field where all

his battles had been victories: the design would have been too

transparent. It was finally decided to send General Scott to Mexico in

chief command, and to authorize him to carry out his own original plan:

that is, capture Vera Cruz and march upon the capital of the country.

It was no doubt supposed that Scott's ambition would lead him to

slaughter Taylor or destroy his chances for the Presidency, and yet it

was hoped that he would not make sufficient capital himself to secure

the prize.

The administration had indeed a most embarrassing problem to solve. It

was engaged in a war of conquest which must be carried to a successful

issue, or the political object would be unattained. Yet all the capable

officers of the requisite rank belonged to the opposition, and the man

selected for his lack of political ambition had himself become a

prominent candidate for the Presidency. It was necessary to destroy his

chances promptly. The problem was to do this without the loss of

conquest and without permitting another general of the same political

party to acquire like popularity. The fact is, the administration of

Mr. Polk made every preparation to disgrace Scott, or, to speak more

correctly, to drive him to such desperation that he would disgrace

himself.

General Scott had opposed conquest by the way of the Rio Grande,

Matamoras and Saltillo from the first. Now that he was in command of

all the forces in Mexico, he withdrew from Taylor most of his regular

troops and left him only enough volunteers, as he thought, to hold the

line then in possession of the invading army. Indeed Scott did not deem

it important to hold anything beyond the Rio Grande, and authorized

Taylor to fall back to that line if he chose. General Taylor protested

against the depletion of his army, and his subsequent movement upon

Buena Vista would indicate that he did not share the views of his chief

in regard to the unimportance of conquest beyond the Rio Grande.

Scott had estimated the men and material that would be required to

capture Vera Cruz and to march on the capital of the country, two

hundred and sixty miles in the interior. He was promised all he asked

and seemed to have not only the confidence of the President, but his

sincere good wishes. The promises were all broken. Only about half the

troops were furnished that had been pledged, other war material was

withheld and Scott had scarcely started for Mexico before the President

undertook to supersede him by the appointment of Senator Thomas H.

Benton as lieutenant-general. This being refused by Congress, the

President asked legislative authority to place a junior over a senior of

the same grade, with the view of appointing Benton to the rank of

major-general and then placing him in command of the army, but Congress

failed to accede to this proposition as well, and Scott remained in

command: but every general appointed to serve under him was politically

opposed to the chief, and several were personally hostile.

General Scott reached Brazos Santiago or Point Isabel, at the mouth of

the Rio Grande, late in December, 1846, and proceeded at once up the

river to Camargo, where he had written General Taylor to meet him.

Taylor, however, had gone to, or towards Tampico, for the purpose of

establishing a post there. He had started on this march before he was

aware of General Scott being in the country. Under these circumstances

Scott had to issue his orders designating the troops to be withdrawn

from Taylor, without the personal consultation he had expected to hold

with his subordinate.

General Taylor's victory at Buena Vista, February 22d, 23d, and 24th,

1847, with an army composed almost entirely of volunteers who had not

been in battle before, and over a vastly superior force numerically,

made his nomination for the Presidency by the Whigs a foregone

conclusion. He was nominated and elected in 1848. I believe that he

sincerely regretted this turn in his fortunes, preferring the peace

afforded by a quiet life free from abuse to the honor of filling the

highest office in the gift of any people, the Presidency of the United

States.

When General Scott assumed command of the army of invasion, I was in the

division of General David Twiggs, in Taylor's command; but under the new

orders my regiment was transferred to the division of General William

Worth, in which I served to the close of the war. The troops withdrawn

from Taylor to form part of the forces to operate against Vera Cruz,

were assembled at the mouth of the Rio Grande preparatory to embarkation

for their destination. I found General Worth a different man from any I

had before served directly under. He was nervous, impatient and

restless on the march, or when important or responsible duty confronted

him. There was not the least reason for haste on the march, for it was

known that it would take weeks to assemble shipping enough at the point

of our embarkation to carry the army, but General Worth moved his

division with a rapidity that would have been commendable had he been

going to the relief of a beleaguered garrison. The length of the

marches was regulated by the distances between places affording a supply

of water for the troops, and these distances were sometimes long and

sometimes short. General Worth on one occasion at least, after having

made the full distance intended for the day, and after the troops were

in camp and preparing their food, ordered tents struck and made the

march that night which had been intended for the next day. Some

commanders can move troops so as to get the maximum distance out of them

without fatigue, while others can wear them out in a few days without

accomplishing so much. General Worth belonged to this latter class. He

enjoyed, however, a fine reputation for his fighting qualities, and thus

attached his officers and men to him.

The army lay in camp upon the sand-beach in the neighborhood of the

mouth of the Rio Grande for several weeks, awaiting the arrival of

transports to carry it to its new field of operations. The transports

were all sailing vessels. The passage was a tedious one, and many of

the troops were on shipboard over thirty days from the embarkation at

the mouth of the Rio Grande to the time of debarkation south of Vera

Cruz. The trip was a comfortless one for officers and men. The

transports used were built for carrying freight and possessed but

limited accommodations for passengers, and the climate added to the

discomfort of all.

The transports with troops were assembled in the harbor of Anton

Lizardo, some sixteen miles south of Vera Cruz, as they arrived, and

there awaited the remainder of the fleet, bringing artillery, ammunition

and supplies of all kinds from the North. With the fleet there was a

little steam propeller dispatch-boat--the first vessel of the kind I had

ever seen, and probably the first of its kind ever seen by any one then

with the army. At that day ocean steamers were rare, and what there

were were sidewheelers. This little vessel, going through the fleet so

fast, so noiselessly and with its propeller under water out of view,

attracted a great deal of attention. I recollect that Lieutenant Sidney

Smith, of the 4th infantry, by whom I happened to be standing on the

deck of a vessel when this propeller was passing, exclaimed, "Why, the

thing looks as if it was propelled by the force of circumstances."

Finally on the 7th of March, 1847, the little army of ten or twelve

thousand men, given Scott to invade a country with a population of seven

or eight millions, a mountainous country affording the greatest possible

natural advantages for defence, was all assembled and ready to commence

the perilous task of landing from vessels lying in the open sea.

The debarkation took place inside of the little island of Sacrificios,

some three miles south of Vera Cruz. The vessels could not get anywhere

near shore, so that everything had to be landed in lighters or

surf-boats; General Scott had provided these before leaving the North.

The breakers were sometimes high, so that the landing was tedious. The

men were got ashore rapidly, because they could wade when they came to

shallow water; but the camp and garrison equipage, provisions,

ammunition and all stores had to be protected from the salt water, and

therefore their landing took several days. The Mexicans were very kind

to us, however, and threw no obstacles in the way of our landing except

an occasional shot from their nearest fort. During the debarkation one

shot took off the head of Major Albertis. No other, I believe, reached

anywhere near the same distance. On the 9th of March the troops were

landed and the investment of Vera Cruz, from the Gulf of Mexico south of

the city to the Gulf again on the north, was soon and easily effected.

The landing of stores was continued until everything was got ashore.

Vera Cruz, at the time of which I write and up to 1880, was a walled

city. The wall extended from the water's edge south of the town to the

water again on the north. There were fortifications at intervals along

the line and at the angles. In front of the city, and on an island half

a mile out in the Gulf, stands San Juan de Ulloa, an enclosed

fortification of large dimensions and great strength for that period.

Against artillery of the present day the land forts and walls would

prove elements of weakness rather than strength. After the invading

army had established their camps out of range of the fire from the city,

batteries were established, under cover of night, far to the front of

the line where the troops lay. These batteries were intrenched and the

approaches sufficiently protected. If a sortie had been made at any

time by the Mexicans, the men serving the batteries could have been

quickly reinforced without great exposure to the fire from the enemy's

main line. No serious attempt was made to capture the batteries or to

drive our troops away.

The siege continued with brisk firing on our side till the 27th of

March, by which time a considerable breach had been made in the wall

surrounding the city. Upon this General Morales, who was Governor of

both the city and of San Juan de Ulloa, commenced a correspondence with

General Scott looking to the surrender of the town, forts and garrison.

On the 29th Vera Cruz and San Juan de Ulloa were occupied by Scott's

army. About five thousand prisoners and four hundred pieces of

artillery, besides large amounts of small arms and ammunition, fell into

the hands of the victorious force. The casualties on our side during

the siege amounted to sixty-four officers and men, killed and wounded.

CHAPTER X.

MARCH TO JALAPA--BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO--PEROTE--PUEBLA--SCOTT AND

TAYLOR.

General Scott had less than twelve thousand men at Vera Cruz. He had

been promised by the administration a very much larger force, or claimed

that he had, and he was a man of veracity. Twelve thousand was a very

small army with which to penetrate two hundred and sixty miles into an

enemy's country, and to besiege the capital; a city, at that time, of

largely over one hundred thousand inhabitants. Then, too, any line of

march that could be selected led through mountain passes easily

defended. In fact, there were at that time but two roads from Vera Cruz

to the City of Mexico that could be taken by an army; one by Jalapa and

Perote, the other by Cordova and Orizaba, the two coming together on the

great plain which extends to the City of Mexico after the range of

mountains is passed.

It was very important to get the army away from Vera Cruz as soon as

possible, in order to avoid the yellow fever, or vomito, which usually

visits that city early in the year, and is very fatal to persons not

acclimated; but transportation, which was expected from the North, was

arriving very slowly. It was absolutely necessary to have enough to

supply the army to Jalapa, sixty-five miles in the interior and above

the fevers of the coast. At that point the country is fertile, and an

army of the size of General Scott's could subsist there for an

indefinite period. Not counting the sick, the weak and the garrisons

for the captured city and fort, the moving column was now less than ten

thousand strong. This force was composed of three divisions, under

Generals Twiggs, Patterson, and Worth. The importance of escaping the

vomito was so great that as soon as transportation enough could be got

together to move a division the advance was commenced. On the 8th of

April, Twiggs's division started for Jalapa. He was followed very soon

by Patterson, with his division. General Worth was to bring up the rear

with his command as soon as transportation enough was assembled to carry

six days' rations for his troops with the necessary ammunition and camp

and garrison equipage. It was the 13th of April before this division

left Vera Cruz.

The leading division ran against the enemy at Cerro Gordo, some fifty

miles west, on the road to Jalapa, and went into camp at Plan del Rio,

about three miles from the fortifications. General Patterson reached

Plan del Rio with his division soon after Twiggs arrived. The two were

then secure against an attack from Santa Anna, who commanded the Mexican

forces. At all events they confronted the enemy without reinforcements

and without molestation, until the 18th of April. General Scott had

remained at Vera Cruz to hasten preparations for the field; but on the

12th, learning the situation at the front, he hastened on to take

personal supervision. He at once commenced his preparations for the

capture of the position held by Santa Anna and of the troops holding it.

Cerro Gordo is one of the higher spurs of the mountains some twelve to

fifteen miles east of Jalapa, and Santa Anna had selected this point as

the easiest to defend against an invading army. The road, said to have

been built by Cortez, zigzags around the mountain-side and was defended

at every turn by artillery. On either side were deep chasms or mountain

walls. A direct attack along the road was an impossibility. A flank

movement seemed equally impossible. After the arrival of the

commanding-general upon the scene, reconnoissances were sent out to

find, or to make, a road by which the rear of the enemy's works might be

reached without a front attack. These reconnoissances were made under

the supervision of Captain Robert E. Lee, assisted by Lieutenants P. G.

T. Beauregard, Isaac I. Stevens, Z. B. Tower, G. W. Smith, George B.

McClellan, and J. G. Foster, of the corps of engineers, all officers who

attained rank and fame, on one side or the other, in the great conflict

for the preservation of the unity of the nation. The reconnoissance was

completed, and the labor of cutting out and making roads by the flank of

the enemy was effected by the 17th of the month. This was accomplished

without the knowledge of Santa Anna or his army, and over ground where

he supposed it impossible. On the same day General Scott issued his

order for the attack on the 18th.

The attack was made as ordered, and perhaps there was not a battle of

the Mexican war, or of any other, where orders issued before an

engagement were nearer being a correct report of what afterwards took

place. Under the supervision of the engineers, roadways had been opened

over chasms to the right where the walls were so steep that men could

barely climb them. Animals could not. These had been opened under

cover of night, without attracting the notice of the enemy. The

engineers, who had directed the opening, led the way and the troops

followed. Artillery was let down the steep slopes by hand, the men

engaged attaching a strong rope to the rear axle and letting the guns

down, a piece at a time, while the men at the ropes kept their ground on

top, paying out gradually, while a few at the front directed the course

of the piece. In like manner the guns were drawn by hand up the

opposite slopes. In this way Scott's troops reached their assigned

position in rear of most of the intrenchments of the enemy, unobserved.

The attack was made, the Mexican reserves behind the works beat a hasty

retreat, and those occupying them surrendered. On the left General

Pillow's command made a formidable demonstration, which doubtless held a

part of the enemy in his front and contributed to the victory. I am not

pretending to give full details of all the battles fought, but of the

portion that I saw. There were troops engaged on both sides at other

points in which both sustained losses; but the battle was won as here

narrated.

The surprise of the enemy was complete, the victory overwhelming; some

three thousand prisoners fell into Scott's hands, also a large amount of

ordnance and ordnance stores. The prisoners were paroled, the artillery

parked and the small arms and ammunition destroyed. The battle of Buena

Vista was probably very important to the success of General Scott at

Cerro Gordo and in his entire campaign from Vera Cruz to the great

plains reaching to the City of Mexico. The only army Santa Anna had to

protect his capital and the mountain passes west of Vera Cruz, was the

one he had with him confronting General Taylor. It is not likely that he

would have gone as far north as Monterey to attack the United States

troops when he knew his country was threatened with invasion further

south. When Taylor moved to Saltillo and then advanced on to Buena

Vista, Santa Anna crossed the desert confronting the invading army,

hoping no doubt to crush it and get back in time to meet General Scott

in the mountain passes west of Vera Cruz. His attack on Taylor was

disastrous to the Mexican army, but, notwithstanding this, he marched

his army to Cerro Gordo, a distance not much short of one thousand miles

by the line he had to travel, in time to intrench himself well before

Scott got there. If he had been successful at Buena Vista his troops

would no doubt have made a more stubborn resistance at Cerro Gordo. Had

the battle of Buena Vista not been fought Santa Anna would have had time

to move leisurely to meet the invader further south and with an army not

demoralized nor depleted by defeat.

After the battle the victorious army moved on to Jalapa, where it was in

a beautiful, productive and healthy country, far above the fevers of the

coast. Jalapa, however, is still in the mountains, and between there

and the great plain the whole line of the road is easy of defence. It

was important, therefore, to get possession of the great highway between

the sea-coast and the capital up to the point where it leaves the

mountains, before the enemy could have time to re-organize and fortify

in our front. Worth's division was selected to go forward to secure this

result. The division marched to Perote on the great plain, not far from

where the road debouches from the mountains. There is a low, strong

fort on the plain in front of the town, known as the Castle of Perote.

This, however, offered no resistance and fell into our hands, with its

armament.

General Scott having now only nine or ten thousand men west of Vera

Cruz, and the time of some four thousand of them being about to expire,

a long delay was the consequence. The troops were in a healthy climate,

and where they could subsist for an indefinite period even if their line

back to Vera Cruz should be cut off. It being ascertained that the men

whose time would expire before the City of Mexico could possibly fall

into the hands of the American army, would not remain beyond the term

for which they had volunteered, the commanding-general determined to

discharge them at once, for a delay until the expiration of their time

would have compelled them to pass through Vera Cruz during the season of

the vomito. This reduced Scott's force in the field to about five

thousand men.

Early in May, Worth, with his division, left Perote and marched on to

Puebla. The roads were wide and the country open except through one

pass in a spur of mountains coming up from the south, through which the

road runs. Notwithstanding this the small column was divided into two

bodies, moving a day apart. Nothing occurred on the march of special

note, except that while lying at the town of Amozoque--an easy day's

march east of Puebla--a body of the enemy's cavalry, two or three

thousand strong, was seen to our right, not more than a mile away. A

battery or two, with two or three infantry regiments, was sent against

them and they soon disappeared. On the 15th of May we entered the city

of Puebla.

General Worth was in command at Puebla until the latter end of May, when

General Scott arrived. Here, as well as on the march up, his

restlessness, particularly under responsibilities, showed itself.

During his brief command he had the enemy hovering around near the city,

in vastly superior numbers to his own. The brigade to which I was

attached changed quarters three different times in about a week,

occupying at first quarters near the plaza, in the heart of the city;

then at the western entrance; then at the extreme east. On one occasion

General Worth had the troops in line, under arms, all day, with three

days' cooked rations in their haversacks. He galloped from one command

to another proclaiming the near proximity of Santa Anna with an army

vastly superior to his own. General Scott arrived upon the scene the

latter part of the month, and nothing more was heard of Santa Anna and

his myriads. There were, of course, bodies of mounted Mexicans hovering

around to watch our movements and to pick up stragglers, or small bodies

of troops, if they ventured too far out. These always withdrew on the

approach of any considerable number of our soldiers. After the arrival

of General Scott I was sent, as quartermaster, with a large train of

wagons, back two days' march at least, to procure forage. We had less

than a thousand men as escort, and never thought of danger. We procured

full loads for our entire train at two plantations, which could easily

have furnished as much more.

There had been great delay in obtaining the authority of Congress for

the raising of the troops asked for by the administration. A bill was

before the National Legislature from early in the session of 1846-7,

authorizing the creation of ten additional regiments for the war to be

attached to the regular army, but it was the middle of February before

it became a law. Appointments of commissioned officers had then to be

made; men had to be enlisted, the regiments equipped and the whole

transported to Mexico. It was August before General Scott received

reinforcement sufficient to warrant an advance. His moving column, not

even now more than ten thousand strong, was in four divisions, commanded

by Generals Twiggs, Worth, Pillow and Quitman. There was also a cavalry

corps under General Harney, composed of detachments of the 1st, 2d, and

3d dragoons. The advance commenced on the 7th of August with Twiggs's

division in front. The remaining three divisions followed, with an

interval of a day between. The marches were short, to make

concentration easier in case of attack.

I had now been in battle with the two leading commanders conducting

armies in a foreign land. The contrast between the two was very marked.

General Taylor never wore uniform, but dressed himself entirely for

comfort. He moved about the field in which he was operating to see

through his own eyes the situation. Often he would be without staff

officers, and when he was accompanied by them there was no prescribed

order in which they followed. He was very much given to sit his horse

side-ways--with both feet on one side--particularly on the battlefield.

General Scott was the reverse in all these particulars. He always wore

all the uniform prescribed or allowed by law when he inspected his

lines; word would be sent to all division and brigade commanders in

advance, notifying them of the hour when the commanding general might be

expected. This was done so that all the army might be under arms to

salute their chief as he passed. On these occasions he wore his dress

uniform, cocked hat, aiguillettes, sabre and spurs. His staff proper,

besides all officers constructively on his staff--engineers, inspectors,

quartermasters, etc., that could be spared--followed, also in uniform

and in prescribed order. Orders were prepared with great care and

evidently with the view that they should be a history of what followed.

In their modes of expressing thought, these two generals contrasted

quite as strongly as in their other characteristics. General Scott was

precise in language, cultivated a style peculiarly his own; was proud of

his rhetoric; not averse to speaking of himself, often in the third

person, and he could bestow praise upon the person he was talking about

without the least embarrassment. Taylor was not a conversationalist,

but on paper he could put his meaning so plainly that there could be no

mistaking it. He knew how to express what he wanted to say in the

fewest well-chosen words, but would not sacrifice meaning to the

construction of high-sounding sentences. But with their opposite

characteristics both were great and successful soldiers; both were true,

patriotic and upright in all their dealings. Both were pleasant to

serve under--Taylor was pleasant to serve with. Scott saw more through

the eyes of his staff officers than through his own. His plans were

deliberately prepared, and fully expressed in orders. Taylor saw for

himself, and gave orders to meet the emergency without reference to how

they would read in history.

CHAPTER XI.

ADVANCE ON THE CITY OF MEXICO--BATTLE OF CONTRERAS--ASSAULT AT

CHURUBUSCO--NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE--BATTLE OF MOLINO DEL REY--STORMING

OF CHAPULTEPEC--SAN COSME--EVACUATION OF THE CITY--HALLS OF THE

MONTEZUMAS.

The route followed by the army from Puebla to the City of Mexico was

over Rio Frio mountain, the road leading over which, at the highest

point, is about eleven thousand feet above tide water. The pass through

this mountain might have been easily defended, but it was not; and the

advanced division reached the summit in three days after leaving Puebla.

The City of Mexico lies west of Rio Frio mountain, on a plain backed by

another mountain six miles farther west, with others still nearer on the

north and south. Between the western base of Rio Frio and the City of

Mexico there are three lakes, Chalco and Xochimilco on the left and

Texcoco on the right, extending to the east end of the City of Mexico.

Chalco and Texcoco are divided by a narrow strip of land over which the

direct road to the city runs. Xochimilco is also to the left of the

road, but at a considerable distance south of it, and is connected with

Lake Chalco by a narrow channel. There is a high rocky mound, called El

Penon, on the right of the road, springing up from the low flat ground

dividing the lakes. This mound was strengthened by intrenchments at its

base and summit, and rendered a direct attack impracticable.

Scott's army was rapidly concentrated about Ayotla and other points near

the eastern end of Lake Chalco. Reconnoissances were made up to within

gun-shot of El Penon, while engineers were seeking a route by the south

side of Lake Chalco to flank the city, and come upon it from the south

and south-west. A way was found around the lake, and by the 18th of

August troops were in St. Augustin Tlalpam, a town about eleven miles

due south from the plaza of the capital. Between St. Augustin Tlalpam

and the city lie the hacienda of San Antonio and the village of

Churubusco, and south-west of them is Contreras. All these points,

except St. Augustin Tlalpam, were intrenched and strongly garrisoned.

Contreras is situated on the side of a mountain, near its base, where

volcanic rocks are piled in great confusion, reaching nearly to San

Antonio. This made the approach to the city from the south very

difficult.

The brigade to which I was attached--Garland's, of Worth's division--was

sent to confront San Antonio, two or three miles from St. Augustin

Tlalpam, on the road to Churubusco and the City of Mexico. The ground

on which San Antonio stands is completely in the valley, and the surface

of the land is only a little above the level of the lakes, and, except

to the south-west, it was cut up by deep ditches filled with water. To

the south-west is the Pedregal--the volcanic rock before spoken of--over

which cavalry or artillery could not be passed, and infantry would make

but poor progress if confronted by an enemy. From the position occupied

by Garland's brigade, therefore, no movement could be made against the

defences of San Antonio except to the front, and by a narrow causeway,

over perfectly level ground, every inch of which was commanded by the

enemy's artillery and infantry. If Contreras, some three miles west and

south, should fall into our hands, troops from there could move to the

right flank of all the positions held by the enemy between us and the

city. Under these circumstances General Scott directed the holding of

the front of the enemy without making an attack until further orders.

On the 18th of August, the day of reaching San Augustin Tlalpam,

Garland's brigade secured a position within easy range of the advanced

intrenchments of San Antonio, but where his troops were protected by an

artificial embankment that had been thrown up for some other purpose

than defense. General Scott at once set his engineers reconnoitring the

works about Contreras, and on the 19th movements were commenced to get

troops into positions from which an assault could be made upon the force

occupying that place. The Pedregal on the north and north-east, and the

mountain on the south, made the passage by either flank of the enemy's

defences difficult, for their work stood exactly between those natural

bulwarks; but a road was completed during the day and night of the 19th,

and troops were got to the north and west of the enemy.

This affair, like that of Cerro Gordo, was an engagement in which the

officers of the engineer corps won special distinction. In fact, in

both cases, tasks which seemed difficult at first sight were made easier

for the troops that had to execute them than they would have been on an

ordinary field. The very strength of each of these positions was, by

the skill of the engineers, converted into a defence for the assaulting

parties while securing their positions for final attack. All the troops

with General Scott in the valley of Mexico, except a part of the

division of General Quitman at San Augustin Tlalpam and the brigade of

Garland (Worth's division) at San Antonio, were engaged at the battle of

Contreras, or were on their way, in obedience to the orders of their

chief, to reinforce those who were engaged. The assault was made on the

morning of the 20th, and in less than half an hour from the sound of the

advance the position was in our hands, with many prisoners and large

quantities of ordnance and other stores. The brigade commanded by

General Riley was from its position the most conspicuous in the final

assault, but all did well, volunteers and regulars.

From the point occupied by Garland's brigade we could see the progress

made at Contreras and the movement of troops toward the flank and rear

of the enemy opposing us. The Mexicans all the way back to the city

could see the same thing, and their conduct showed plainly that they did

not enjoy the sight. We moved out at once, and found them gone from our

immediate front. Clarke's brigade of Worth's division now moved west

over the point of the Pedregal, and after having passed to the north

sufficiently to clear San Antonio, turned east and got on the causeway

leading to Churubusco and the City of Mexico. When he approached

Churubusco his left, under Colonel Hoffman, attacked a tete-de-pont at

that place and brought on an engagement. About an hour after, Garland

was ordered to advance directly along the causeway, and got up in time

to take part in the engagement. San Antonio was found evacuated, the

evacuation having probably taken place immediately upon the enemy seeing

the stars and stripes waving over Contreras.

The troops that had been engaged at Contreras, and even then on their

way to that battle-field, were moved by a causeway west of, and parallel

to the one by way of San Antonio and Churubusco. It was expected by the

commanding general that these troops would move north sufficiently far

to flank the enemy out of his position at Churubusco, before turning

east to reach the San Antonio road, but they did not succeed in this,

and Churubusco proved to be about the severest battle fought in the

valley of Mexico. General Scott coming upon the battle-field about this

juncture, ordered two brigades, under Shields, to move north and turn

the right of the enemy. This Shields did, but not without hard fighting

and heavy loss. The enemy finally gave way, leaving in our hands

prisoners, artillery and small arms. The balance of the causeway held

by the enemy, up to the very gates of the city, fell in like manner. I

recollect at this place that some of the gunners who had stood their

ground, were deserters from General Taylor's army on the Rio Grande.

Both the strategy and tactics displayed by General Scott in these

various engagements of the 20th of August, 1847, were faultless as I

look upon them now, after the lapse of so many years. As before stated,

the work of the engineer officers who made the reconnoissances and led

the different commands to their destinations, was so perfect that the

chief was able to give his orders to his various subordinates with all

the precision he could use on an ordinary march. I mean, up to the

points from which the attack was to commence. After that point is

reached the enemy often induces a change of orders not before

contemplated. The enemy outside the city outnumbered our soldiery quite

three to one, but they had become so demoralized by the succession of

defeats this day, that the City of Mexico could have been entered

without much further bloodshed. In fact, Captain Philip Kearney

--afterwards a general in the war of the rebellion--rode with a squadron

of cavalry to the very gates of the city, and would no doubt have

entered with his little force, only at that point he was badly wounded,

as were several of his officers. He had not heard the call for a halt.

General Franklin Pierce had joined the army in Mexico, at Puebla, a

short time before the advance upon the capital commenced. He had

consequently not been in any of the engagements of the war up to the

battle of Contreras. By an unfortunate fall of his horse on the

afternoon of the 19th he was painfully injured. The next day, when his

brigade, with the other troops engaged on the same field, was ordered

against the flank and rear of the enemy guarding the different points of

the road from San Augustin Tlalpam to the city, General Pierce attempted

to accompany them. He was not sufficiently recovered to do so, and

fainted. This circumstance gave rise to exceedingly unfair and unjust

criticisms of him when he became a candidate for the Presidency.

Whatever General Pierce's qualifications may have been for the

Presidency, he was a gentleman and a man of courage. I was not a

supporter of him politically, but I knew him more intimately than I did

any other of the volunteer generals.

General Scott abstained from entering the city at this time, because Mr.

Nicholas P. Trist, the commissioner on the part of the United States to

negotiate a treaty of peace with Mexico, was with the army, and either

he or General Scott thought--probably both of them--that a treaty would

be more possible while the Mexican government was in possession of the

capital than if it was scattered and the capital in the hands of an

invader. Be this as it may, we did not enter at that time. The army

took up positions along the slopes of the mountains south of the city,

as far west as Tacubaya. Negotiations were at once entered into with

Santa Anna, who was then practically THE GOVERNMENT and the immediate

commander of all the troops engaged in defence of the country. A truce

was signed which denied to either party the right to strengthen its

position, or to receive reinforcements during the continuance of the

armistices, but authorized General Scott to draw supplies for his army

from the city in the meantime.

Negotiations were commenced at once and were kept up vigorously between

Mr. Trist and the commissioners appointed on the part of Mexico, until

the 2d of September. At that time Mr. Trist handed in his ultimatum.

Texas was to be given up absolutely by Mexico, and New Mexico and

California ceded to the United States for a stipulated sum to be

afterwards determined. I do not suppose Mr. Trist had any discretion

whatever in regard to boundaries. The war was one of conquest, in the

interest of an institution, and the probabilities are that private

instructions were for the acquisition of territory out of which new

States might be carved. At all events the Mexicans felt so outraged at

the terms proposed that they commenced preparations for defence, without

giving notice of the termination of the armistice. The terms of the

truce had been violated before, when teams had been sent into the city

to bring out supplies for the army. The first train entering the city

was very severely threatened by a mob. This, however, was apologized for

by the authorities and all responsibility for it denied; and thereafter,

to avoid exciting the Mexican people and soldiery, our teams with their

escorts were sent in at night, when the troops were in barracks and the

citizens in bed. The circumstance was overlooked and negotiations

continued. As soon as the news reached General Scott of the second

violation of the armistice, about the 4th of September, he wrote a

vigorous note to President Santa Anna, calling his attention to it, and,

receiving an unsatisfactory reply, declared the armistice at an end.

General Scott, with Worth's division, was now occupying Tacubaya, a

village some four miles south-west of the City of Mexico, and extending

from the base up the mountain-side for the distance of half a mile.

More than a mile west, and also a little above the plain, stands Molino

del Rey. The mill is a long stone structure, one story high and several

hundred feet in length. At the period of which I speak General Scott

supposed a portion of the mill to be used as a foundry for the casting

of guns. This, however, proved to be a mistake. It was valuable to the

Mexicans because of the quantity of grain it contained. The building is

flat roofed, and a line of sand-bags over the outer walls rendered the

top quite a formidable defence for infantry. Chapultepec is a mound

springing up from the plain to the height of probably three hundred

feet, and almost in a direct line between Molino del Rey and the western

part of the city. It was fortified both on the top and on the rocky and

precipitous sides.

The City of Mexico is supplied with water by two aqueducts, resting on

strong stone arches. One of these aqueducts draws its supply of water

from a mountain stream coming into it at or near Molino del Rey, and

runs north close to the west base of Chapultepec; thence along the

centre of a wide road, until it reaches the road running east into the

city by the Garita San Cosme; from which point the aqueduct and road

both run east to the city. The second aqueduct starts from the east

base of Chapultepec, where it is fed by a spring, and runs north-east to

the city. This aqueduct, like the other, runs in the middle of a broad

road-way, thus leaving a space on each side. The arches supporting the

aqueduct afforded protection for advancing troops as well as to those

engaged defensively. At points on the San Cosme road parapets were

thrown across, with an embrasure for a single piece of artillery in

each. At the point where both road and aqueduct turn at right angles

from north to east, there was not only one of these parapets supplied by

one gun and infantry supports, but the houses to the north of the San

Cosme road, facing south and commanding a view of the road back to

Chapultepec, were covered with infantry, protected by parapets made of

sandbags. The roads leading to garitas (the gates) San Cosme and Belen,

by which these aqueducts enter the city, were strongly intrenched.

Deep, wide ditches, filled with water, lined the sides of both roads.

Such were the defences of the City of Mexico in September, 1847, on the

routes over which General Scott entered.

Prior to the Mexican war General Scott had been very partial to General

Worth--indeed he continued so up to the close of hostilities--but, for

some reason, Worth had become estranged from his chief. Scott evidently

took this coldness somewhat to heart. He did not retaliate, however,

but on the contrary showed every disposition to appease his subordinate.

It was understood at the time that he gave Worth authority to plan and

execute the battle of Molino del Rey without dictation or interference

from any one, for the very purpose of restoring their former relations.

The effort failed, and the two generals remained ever after cold and

indifferent towards each other, if not actually hostile.

The battle of Molino del Rey was fought on the 8th of September. The

night of the 7th, Worth sent for his brigade and regimental commanders,

with their staffs, to come to his quarters to receive instructions for

the morrow. These orders contemplated a movement up to within striking

distance of the Mills before daylight. The engineers had reconnoitred

the ground as well as possible, and had acquired all the information

necessary to base proper orders both for approach and attack.

By daylight on the morning of the 8th, the troops to be engaged at

Molino were all at the places designated. The ground in front of the

Mills, to the south, was commanded by the artillery from the summit of

Chapultepec as well as by the lighter batteries at hand; but a charge

was made, and soon all was over. Worth's troops entered the Mills by

every door, and the enemy beat a hasty retreat back to Chapultepec. Had

this victory been followed up promptly, no doubt Americans and Mexicans

would have gone over the defences of Chapultepec so near together that

the place would have fallen into our hands without further loss. The

defenders of the works could not have fired upon us without endangering

their own men. This was not done, and five days later more valuable

lives were sacrificed to carry works which had been so nearly in our

possession on the 8th. I do not criticise the failure to capture

Chapultepec at this time. The result that followed the first assault

could not possibly have been foreseen, and to profit by the unexpected

advantage, the commanding general must have been on the spot and given

the necessary instructions at the moment, or the troops must have kept

on without orders. It is always, however, in order to follow a

retreating foe, unless stopped or otherwise directed. The loss on our

side at Molino del Rey was severe for the numbers engaged. It was

especially so among commissioned officers.

I was with the earliest of the troops to enter the Mills. In passing

through to the north side, looking towards Chapultepec, I happened to

notice that there were armed Mexicans still on top of the building, only

a few feet from many of our men. Not seeing any stairway or ladder

reaching to the top of the building, I took a few soldiers, and had a

cart that happened to be standing near brought up, and, placing the

shafts against the wall and chocking the wheels so that the cart could

not back, used the shafts as a sort of ladder extending to within three

or four feet of the top. By this I climbed to the roof of the building,

followed by a few men, but found a private soldier had preceded me by

some other way. There were still quite a number of Mexicans on the

roof, among them a major and five or six officers of lower grades, who

had not succeeded in getting away before our troops occupied the

building. They still had their arms, while the soldier before mentioned

was walking as sentry, guarding the prisoners he had SURROUNDED, all by

himself. I halted the sentinel, received the swords from the

commissioned officers, and proceeded, with the assistance of the

soldiers now with me, to disable the muskets by striking them against

the edge of the wall, and throw them to the ground below.

Molino del Rey was now captured, and the troops engaged, with the

exception of an appropriate guard over the captured position and

property, were marched back to their quarters in Tacubaya. The

engagement did not last many minutes, but the killed and wounded were

numerous for the number of troops engaged.

During the night of the 11th batteries were established which could play

upon the fortifications of Chapultepec. The bombardment commenced early

on the morning of the 12th, but there was no further engagement during

this day than that of the artillery. General Scott assigned the capture

of Chapultepec to General Pillow, but did not leave the details to his

judgment. Two assaulting columns, two hundred and fifty men each,

composed of volunteers for the occasion, were formed. They were

commanded by Captains McKinzie and Casey respectively. The assault was

successful, but bloody.

In later years, if not at the time, the battles of Molino del Rey and

Chapultepec have seemed to me to have been wholly unnecessary. When the

assaults upon the garitas of San Cosme and Belen were determined upon,

the road running east to the former gate could have been reached easily,

without an engagement, by moving along south of the Mills until west of

them sufficiently far to be out of range, thence north to the road above

mentioned; or, if desirable to keep the two attacking columns nearer

together, the troops could have been turned east so as to come on the

aqueduct road out of range of the guns from Chapultepec. In like

manner, the troops designated to act against Belen could have kept east

of Chapultepec, out of range, and come on to the aqueduct, also out of

range of Chapultepec. Molino del Rey and Chapultepec would both have

been necessarily evacuated if this course had been pursued, for they

would have been turned.

General Quitman, a volunteer from the State of Mississippi, who stood

well with the army both as a soldier and as a man, commanded the column

acting against Belen. General Worth commanded the column against San

Cosme. When Chapultepec fell the advance commenced along the two

aqueduct roads. I was on the road to San Cosme, and witnessed most that

took place on that route. When opposition was encountered our troops

sheltered themselves by keeping under the arches supporting the

aqueduct, advancing an arch at a time. We encountered no serious

obstruction until within gun-shot of the point where the road we were on

intersects that running east to the city, the point where the aqueduct

turns at a right angle. I have described the defences of this position

before. There were but three commissioned officers besides myself, that

I can now call to mind, with the advance when the above position was

reached. One of these officers was a Lieutenant Semmes, of the Marine

Corps. I think Captain Gore, and Lieutenant Judah, of the 4th infantry,

were the others. Our progress was stopped for the time by the single

piece of artillery at the angle of the roads and the infantry occupying

the house-tops back from it.

West of the road from where we were, stood a house occupying the

south-west angle made by the San Cosme road and the road we were moving

upon. A stone wall ran from the house along each of these roads for a

considerable distance and thence back until it joined, enclosing quite a

yard about the house. I watched my opportunity and skipped across the

road and behind the south wall. Proceeding cautiously to the west

corner of the enclosure, I peeped around and seeing nobody, continued,

still cautiously, until the road running east and west was reached. I

then returned to the troops, and called for volunteers. All that were

close to me, or that heard me, about a dozen, offered their services.

Commanding them to carry their arms at a trail, I watched our

opportunity and got them across the road and under cover of the wall

beyond, before the enemy had a shot at us. Our men under cover of the

arches kept a close watch on the intrenchments that crossed our path and

the house-tops beyond, and whenever a head showed itself above the

parapets they would fire at it. Our crossing was thus made practicable

without loss.

When we reached a safe position I instructed my little command again to

carry their arms at a trail, not to fire at the enemy until they were

ordered, and to move very cautiously following me until the San Cosme

road was reached; we would then be on the flank of the men serving the

gun on the road, and with no obstruction between us and them. When we

reached the south-west corner of the enclosure before described, I saw

some United States troops pushing north through a shallow ditch near by,

who had come up since my reconnaissance. This was the company of

Captain Horace Brooks, of the artillery, acting as infantry. I

explained to Brooks briefly what I had discovered and what I was about

to do. He said, as I knew the ground and he did not, I might go on and

he would follow. As soon as we got on the road leading to the city the

troops serving the gun on the parapet retreated, and those on the

house-tops near by followed; our men went after them in such close

pursuit--the troops we had left under the arches joining--that a second

line across the road, about half-way between the first and the garita,

was carried. No reinforcements had yet come up except Brooks's company,

and the position we had taken was too advanced to be held by so small a

force. It was given up, but retaken later in the day, with some loss.

Worth's command gradually advanced to the front now open to it. Later

in the day in reconnoitring I found a church off to the south of the

road, which looked to me as if the belfry would command the ground back

of the garita San Cosme. I got an officer of the voltigeurs, with a

mountain howitzer and men to work it, to go with me. The road being in

possession of the enemy, we had to take the field to the south to reach

the church. This took us over several ditches breast deep in water and

grown up with water plants. These ditches, however, were not over eight

or ten feet in width. The howitzer was taken to pieces and carried by

the men to its destination. When I knocked for admission a priest came

to the door who, while extremely polite, declined to admit us. With the

little Spanish then at my command, I explained to him that he might save

property by opening the door, and he certainly would save himself from

becoming a prisoner, for a time at least; and besides, I intended to go

in whether he consented or not. He began to see his duty in the same

light that I did, and opened the door, though he did not look as if it

gave him special pleasure to do so. The gun was carried to the belfry

and put together. We were not more than two or three hundred yards from

San Cosme. The shots from our little gun dropped in upon the enemy and

created great confusion. Why they did not send out a small party and

capture us, I do not know. We had no infantry or other defences besides

our one gun.

The effect of this gun upon the troops about the gate of the city was so

marked that General Worth saw it from his position. (*3) He was so

pleased that he sent a staff officer, Lieutenant Pemberton--later

Lieutenant-General commanding the defences of Vicksburg--to bring me to

him. He expressed his gratification at the services the howitzer in the

church steeple was doing, saying that every shot was effective, and

ordered a captain of voltigeurs to report to me with another howitzer to

be placed along with the one already rendering so much service. I could

not tell the General that there was not room enough in the steeple for

another gun, because he probably would have looked upon such a statement

as a contradiction from a second lieutenant. I took the captain with

me, but did not use his gun.

The night of the 13th of September was spent by the troops under General

Worth in the houses near San Cosme, and in line confronting the general

line of the enemy across to Belen. The troops that I was with were in

the houses north of the road leading into the city, and were engaged

during the night in cutting passage-ways from one house to another

towards the town. During the night Santa Anna, with his army--except

the deserters--left the city. He liberated all the convicts confined in

the town, hoping, no doubt, that they would inflict upon us some injury

before daylight; but several hours after Santa Anna was out of the way,

the city authorities sent a delegation to General Scott to ask--if not

demand--an armistice, respecting church property, the rights of citizens

and the supremacy of the city government in the management of municipal

affairs. General Scott declined to trammel himself with conditions, but

gave assurances that those who chose to remain within our lines would be

protected so long as they behaved themselves properly.

General Quitman had advanced along his line very successfully on the

13th, so that at night his command occupied nearly the same position at

Belen that Worth's troops did about San Cosme. After the interview above

related between General Scott and the city council, orders were issued

for the cautious entry of both columns in the morning. The troops under

Worth were to stop at the Alameda, a park near the west end of the city.

Quitman was to go directly to the Plaza, and take possession of the

Palace--a mass of buildings on the east side in which Congress has its

sessions, the national courts are held, the public offices are all

located, the President resides, and much room is left for museums,

receptions, etc. This is the building generally designated as the

"Halls of the Montezumas."

CHAPTER XII.

PROMOTION TO FIRST LIEUTENANT--CAPTURE OF THE CITY OF MEXICO--THE ARMY

--MEXICAN SOLDIERS--PEACE NEGOTIATIONS.

On entering the city the troops were fired upon by the released

convicts, and possibly by deserters and hostile citizens. The streets

were deserted, and the place presented the appearance of a "city of the

dead," except for this firing by unseen persons from house-tops,

windows, and around corners. In this firing the lieutenant-colonel of

my regiment, Garland, was badly wounded, Lieutenant Sidney Smith, of the

4th infantry, was also wounded mortally. He died a few days after, and

by his death I was promoted to the grade of first lieutenant.(*4) I had

gone into the battle of Palo Alto in May, 1846, a second lieutenant, and

I entered the city of Mexico sixteen months later with the same rank,

after having been in all the engagements possible for any one man and in

a regiment that lost more officers during the war than it ever had

present at any one engagement. My regiment lost four commissioned

officers, all senior to me, by steamboat explosions during the Mexican

war. The Mexicans were not so discriminating. They sometimes picked

off my juniors.

General Scott soon followed the troops into the city, in state. I

wonder that he was not fired upon, but I believe he was not; at all

events he was not hurt. He took quarters at first in the "Halls of the

Montezumas," and from there issued his wise and discreet orders for the

government of a conquered city, and for suppressing the hostile acts of

liberated convicts already spoken of--orders which challenge the respect

of all who study them. Lawlessness was soon suppressed, and the City of

Mexico settled down into a quiet, law-abiding place. The people began

to make their appearance upon the streets without fear of the invaders.

Shortly afterwards the bulk of the troops were sent from the city to the

villages at the foot of the mountains, four or five miles to the south

and south-west.

Whether General Scott approved of the Mexican war and the manner in

which it was brought about, I have no means of knowing. His orders to

troops indicate only a soldierly spirit, with probably a little regard

for the perpetuation of his own fame. On the other hand, General

Taylor's, I think, indicate that he considered the administration

accountable for the war, and felt no responsibility resting on himself

further than for the faithful performance of his duties. Both generals

deserve the commendations of their countrymen and to live in the

grateful memory of this people to the latest generation.

Earlier in this narrative I have stated that the plain, reached after

passing the mountains east of Perote, extends to the cities of Puebla

and Mexico. The route travelled by the army before reaching Puebla,

goes over a pass in a spur of mountain coming up from the south. This

pass is very susceptible of defence by a smaller against a larger force.

Again, the highest point of the road-bed between Vera Cruz and the City

of Mexico is over Rio Frio mountain, which also might have been

successfully defended by an inferior against a superior force. But by

moving north of the mountains, and about thirty miles north of Puebla,

both of these passes would have been avoided. The road from Perote to

the City of Mexico, by this latter route, is as level as the prairies in

our West. Arriving due north from Puebla, troops could have been

detached to take possession of that place, and then proceeding west with

the rest of the army no mountain would have been encountered before

reaching the City of Mexico. It is true this road would have brought

troops in by Guadalupe--a town, church and detached spur of mountain

about two miles north of the capital, all bearing the same general name

--and at this point Lake Texcoco comes near to the mountain, which was

fortified both at the base and on the sides: but troops could have

passed north of the mountain and come in only a few miles to the

north-west, and so flanked the position, as they actually did on the

south.

It has always seemed to me that this northern route to the City of

Mexico, would have been the better one to have taken. But my later

experience has taught me two lessons: first, that things are seen

plainer after the events have occurred; second, that the most confident

critics are generally those who know the least about the matter

criticised. I know just enough about the Mexican war to approve

heartily of most of the generalship, but to differ with a little of it.

It is natural that an important city like Puebla should not have been

passed with contempt; it may be natural that the direct road to it

should have been taken; but it could have been passed, its evacuation

insured and possession acquired without danger of encountering the enemy

in intricate mountain defiles. In this same way the City of Mexico

could have been approached without any danger of opposition, except in

the open field.

But General Scott's successes are an answer to all criticism. He invaded

a populous country, penetrating two hundred and sixty miles into the

interior, with a force at no time equal to one-half of that opposed to

him; he was without a base; the enemy was always intrenched, always on

the defensive; yet he won every battle, he captured the capital, and

conquered the government. Credit is due to the troops engaged, it is

true, but the plans and the strategy were the general's.

I had now made marches and been in battle under both General Scott and

General Taylor. The former divided his force of 10,500 men into four

columns, starting a day apart, in moving from Puebla to the capital of

the nation, when it was known that an army more than twice as large as

his own stood ready to resist his coming. The road was broad and the

country open except in crossing the Rio Frio mountain. General Taylor

pursued the same course in marching toward an enemy. He moved even in

smaller bodies. I never thought at the time to doubt the infallibility

of these two generals in all matters pertaining to their profession. I

supposed they moved in small bodies because more men could not be passed

over a single road on the same day with their artillery and necessary

trains. Later I found the fallacy of this belief. The rebellion, which

followed as a sequence to the Mexican war, never could have been

suppressed if larger bodies of men could not have been moved at the same

time than was the custom under Scott and Taylor.

The victories in Mexico were, in every instance, over vastly superior

numbers. There were two reasons for this. Both General Scott and

General Taylor had such armies as are not often got together. At the

battles of Palo Alto and Resaca-de-la-Palma, General Taylor had a small

army, but it was composed exclusively of regular troops, under the best

of drill and discipline. Every officer, from the highest to the lowest,

was educated in his profession, not at West Point necessarily, but in

the camp, in garrison, and many of them in Indian wars. The rank and

file were probably inferior, as material out of which to make an army,

to the volunteers that participated in all the later battles of the war;

but they were brave men, and then drill and discipline brought out all

there was in them. A better army, man for man, probably never faced an

enemy than the one commanded by General Taylor in the earliest two

engagements of the Mexican war. The volunteers who followed were of

better material, but without drill or discipline at the start. They

were associated with so many disciplined men and professionally educated

officers, that when they went into engagements it was with a confidence

they would not have felt otherwise. They became soldiers themselves

almost at once. All these conditions we would enjoy again in case of

war.

The Mexican army of that day was hardly an organization. The private

soldier was picked up from the lower class of the inhabitants when

wanted; his consent was not asked; he was poorly clothed, worse fed, and

seldom paid. He was turned adrift when no longer wanted. The officers

of the lower grades were but little superior to the men. With all this

I have seen as brave stands made by some of these men as I have ever

seen made by soldiers. Now Mexico has a standing army larger than that

of the United States. They have a military school modelled after West

Point. Their officers are educated and, no doubt, generally brave. The

Mexican war of 1846-8 would be an impossibility in this generation.

The Mexicans have shown a patriotism which it would be well if we would

imitate in part, but with more regard to truth. They celebrate the

anniversaries of Chapultepec and Molino del Rey as of very great

victories. The anniversaries are recognized as national holidays. At

these two battles, while the United States troops were victorious, it

was at very great sacrifice of life compared with what the Mexicans

suffered. The Mexicans, as on many other occasions, stood up as well as

any troops ever did. The trouble seemed to be the lack of experience

among the officers, which led them after a certain time to simply quit,

without being particularly whipped, but because they had fought enough.

Their authorities of the present day grow enthusiastic over their theme

when telling of these victories, and speak with pride of the large sum

of money they forced us to pay in the end. With us, now twenty years

after the close of the most stupendous war ever known, we have writers

--who profess devotion to the nation--engaged in trying to prove that the

Union forces were not victorious; practically, they say, we were slashed

around from Donelson to Vicksburg and to Chattanooga; and in the East

from Gettysburg to Appomattox, when the physical rebellion gave out from

sheer exhaustion. There is no difference in the amount of romance in

the two stories.

I would not have the anniversaries of our victories celebrated, nor

those of our defeats made fast days and spent in humiliation and prayer;

but I would like to see truthful history written. Such history will do

full credit to the courage, endurance and soldierly ability of the

American citizen, no matter what section of the country he hailed from,

or in what ranks he fought. The justice of the cause which in the end

prevailed, will, I doubt not, come to be acknowledged by every citizen

of the land, in time. For the present, and so long as there are living

witnesses of the great war of sections, there will be people who will

not be consoled for the loss of a cause which they believed to be holy.

As time passes, people, even of the South, will begin to wonder how it

was possible that their ancestors ever fought for or justified

institutions which acknowledged the right of property in man.

After the fall of the capital and the dispersal of the government of

Mexico, it looked very much as if military occupation of the country for

a long time might be necessary. General Scott at once began the

preparation of orders, regulations and laws in view of this contingency.

He contemplated making the country pay all the expenses of the

occupation, without the army becoming a perceptible burden upon the

people. His plan was to levy a direct tax upon the separate states, and

collect, at the ports left open to trade, a duty on all imports. From

the beginning of the war private property had not been taken, either for

the use of the army or of individuals, without full compensation. This

policy was to be pursued. There were not troops enough in the valley of

Mexico to occupy many points, but now that there was no organized army

of the enemy of any size, reinforcements could be got from the Rio

Grande, and there were also new volunteers arriving from time to time,

all by way of Vera Cruz. Military possession was taken of Cuernavaca,

fifty miles south of the City of Mexico; of Toluca, nearly as far west,

and of Pachuca, a mining town of great importance, some sixty miles to

the north-east. Vera Cruz, Jalapa, Orizaba, and Puebla were already in

our possession.

Meanwhile the Mexican government had departed in the person of Santa

Anna, and it looked doubtful for a time whether the United States

commissioner, Mr. Trist, would find anybody to negotiate with. A

temporary government, however, was soon established at Queretaro, and

Trist began negotiations for a conclusion of the war. Before terms were

finally agreed upon he was ordered back to Washington, but General Scott

prevailed upon him to remain, as an arrangement had been so nearly

reached, and the administration must approve his acts if he succeeded in

making such a treaty as had been contemplated in his instructions. The

treaty was finally signed the 2d of February, 1848, and accepted by the

government at Washington. It is that known as the "Treaty of Guadalupe

Hidalgo," and secured to the United States the Rio Grande as the

boundary of Texas, and the whole territory then included in New Mexico

and Upper California, for the sum of $15,000,000.

Soon after entering the city of Mexico, the opposition of Generals

Pillow, Worth and Colonel Duncan to General Scott became very marked.

Scott claimed that they had demanded of the President his removal. I do

not know whether this is so or not, but I do know of their unconcealed

hostility to their chief. At last he placed them in arrest, and

preferred charges against them of insubordination and disrespect. This

act brought on a crisis in the career of the general commanding. He had

asserted from the beginning that the administration was hostile to him;

that it had failed in its promises of men and war material; that the

President himself had shown duplicity if not treachery in the endeavor

to procure the appointment of Benton: and the administration now gave

open evidence of its enmity. About the middle of February orders came

convening a court of inquiry, composed of Brevet Brigadier-General

Towson, the paymaster-general of the army, Brigadier-General Cushing and

Colonel Belknap, to inquire into the conduct of the accused and the

accuser, and shortly afterwards orders were received from Washington,

relieving Scott of the command of the army in the field and assigning

Major-General William O. Butler of Kentucky to the place. This order

also released Pillow, Worth and Duncan from arrest.

If a change was to be made the selection of General Butler was agreeable

to every one concerned, so far as I remember to have heard expressions

on the subject. There were many who regarded the treatment of General

Scott as harsh and unjust. It is quite possible that the vanity of the

General had led him to say and do things that afforded a plausible

pretext to the administration for doing just what it did and what it had

wanted to do from the start. The court tried the accuser quite as much

as the accused. It was adjourned before completing its labors, to meet

in Frederick, Maryland. General Scott left the country, and never after

had more than the nominal command of the army until early in 1861. He

certainly was not sustained in his efforts to maintain discipline in

high places.

The efforts to kill off politically the two successful generals, made

them both candidates for the Presidency. General Taylor was nominated

in 1848, and was elected. Four years later General Scott received the

nomination but was badly beaten, and the party nominating him died with

his defeat.(*5)

CHAPTER XIII.

TREATY OF PEACE--MEXICAN BULL FIGHTS--REGIMENTAL QUARTERMASTER--TRIP TO

POPOCATAPETL--TRIP TO THE CAVES OF MEXICO.

The treaty of peace between the two countries was signed by the

commissioners of each side early in February, 1848. It took a

considerable time for it to reach Washington, receive the approval of

the administration, and be finally ratified by the Senate. It was

naturally supposed by the army that there would be no more fighting, and

officers and men were of course anxious to get home, but knowing there

must be delay they contented themselves as best they could. Every

Sunday there was a bull fight for the amusement of those who would pay

their fifty cents. I attended one of them--just one--not wishing to

leave the country without having witnessed the national sport. The

sight to me was sickening. I could not see how human beings could enjoy

the sufferings of beasts, and often of men, as they seemed to do on

these occasions.

At these sports there are usually from four to six bulls sacrificed.

The audience occupies seats around the ring in which the exhibition is

given, each seat but the foremost rising higher than the one in front,

so that every one can get a full view of the sport. When all is ready a

bull is turned into the ring. Three or four men come in, mounted on the

merest skeletons of horses blind or blind-folded and so weak that they

could not make a sudden turn with their riders without danger of falling

down. The men are armed with spears having a point as sharp as a

needle. Other men enter the arena on foot, armed with red flags and

explosives about the size of a musket cartridge. To each of these

explosives is fastened a barbed needle which serves the purpose of

attaching them to the bull by running the needle into the skin. Before

the animal is turned loose a lot of these explosives are attached to

him. The pain from the pricking of the skin by the needles is

exasperating; but when the explosions of the cartridges commence the

animal becomes frantic. As he makes a lunge towards one horseman,

another runs a spear into him. He turns towards his last tormentor when

a man on foot holds out a red flag; the bull rushes for this and is

allowed to take it on his horns. The flag drops and covers the eyes of

the animal so that he is at a loss what to do; it is jerked from him and

the torment is renewed. When the animal is worked into an

uncontrollable frenzy, the horsemen withdraw, and the matadores

--literally murderers--enter, armed with knives having blades twelve or

eighteen inches long, and sharp. The trick is to dodge an attack from

the animal and stab him to the heart as he passes. If these efforts fail

the bull is finally lassoed, held fast and killed by driving a knife

blade into the spinal column just back of the horns. He is then dragged

out by horses or mules, another is let into the ring, and the same

performance is renewed.

On the occasion when I was present one of the bulls was not turned aside

by the attacks in the rear, the presentations of the red flag, etc.,

etc., but kept right on, and placing his horns under the flanks of a

horse threw him and his rider to the ground with great force. The horse

was killed and the rider lay prostrate as if dead. The bull was then

lassoed and killed in the manner above described. Men came in and

carried the dead man off in a litter. When the slaughtered bull and

horse were dragged out, a fresh bull was turned into the ring.

Conspicuous among the spectators was the man who had been carried out on

a litter but a few minutes before. He was only dead so far as that

performance went; but the corpse was so lively that it could not forego

the chance of witnessing the discomfiture of some of his brethren who

might not be so fortunate. There was a feeling of disgust manifested by

the audience to find that he had come to life again. I confess that I

felt sorry to see the cruelty to the bull and the horse. I did not stay

for the conclusion of the performance; but while I did stay, there was

not a bull killed in the prescribed way.

Bull fights are now prohibited in the Federal District--embracing a

territory around the City of Mexico, somewhat larger than the District

of Columbia--and they are not an institution in any part of the country.

During one of my recent visits to Mexico, bull fights were got up in my

honor at Puebla and at Pachuca. I was not notified in advance so as to

be able to decline and thus prevent the performance; but in both cases I

civilly declined to attend.

Another amusement of the people of Mexico of that day, and one which

nearly all indulged in, male and female, old and young, priest and

layman, was Monte playing. Regular feast weeks were held every year at

what was then known as St. Augustin Tlalpam, eleven miles out of town.

There were dealers to suit every class and condition of people. In many

of the booths clackos--the copper coin of the country, four of them

making six and a quarter cents of our money--were piled up in great

quantities, with some silver, to accommodate the people who could not

bet more than a few pennies at a time. In other booths silver formed

the bulk of the capital of the bank, with a few doubloons to be changed

if there should be a run of luck against the bank. In some there was no

coin except gold. Here the rich were said to bet away their entire

estates in a single day. All this is stopped now.

For myself, I was kept somewhat busy during the winter of 1847-8. My

regiment was stationed in Tacubaya. I was regimental quartermaster and

commissary. General Scott had been unable to get clothing for the

troops from the North. The men were becoming--well, they needed

clothing. Material had to be purchased, such as could be obtained, and

people employed to make it up into "Yankee uniforms." A quartermaster

in the city was designated to attend to this special duty; but clothing

was so much needed that it was seized as fast as made up. A regiment

was glad to get a dozen suits at a time. I had to look after this

matter for the 4th infantry. Then our regimental fund had run down and

some of the musicians in the band had been without their extra pay for a

number of months.

The regimental bands at that day were kept up partly by pay from the

government, and partly by pay from the regimental fund. There was

authority of law for enlisting a certain number of men as musicians. So

many could receive the pay of non-commissioned officers of the various

grades, and the remainder the pay of privates. This would not secure a

band leader, nor good players on certain instruments. In garrison there

are various ways of keeping up a regimental fund sufficient to give

extra pay to musicians, establish libraries and ten-pin alleys,

subscribe to magazines and furnish many extra comforts to the men. The

best device for supplying the fund is to issue bread to the soldiers

instead of flour. The ration used to be eighteen ounces per day of

either flour or bread; and one hundred pounds of flour will make one

hundred and forty pounds of bread. This saving was purchased by the

commissary for the benefit of the fund. In the emergency the 4th

infantry was laboring under, I rented a bakery in the city, hired

bakers--Mexicans--bought fuel and whatever was necessary, and I also got

a contract from the chief commissary of the army for baking a large

amount of hard bread. In two months I made more money for the fund than

my pay amounted to during the entire war. While stationed at Monterey I

had relieved the post fund in the same way. There, however, was no

profit except in the saving of flour by converting it into bread.

In the spring of 1848 a party of officers obtained leave to visit

Popocatapetl, the highest volcano in America, and to take an escort. I

went with the party, many of whom afterwards occupied conspicuous

positions before the country. Of those who "went south," and attained

high rank, there was Lieutenant Richard Anderson, who commanded a corps

at Spottsylvania; Captain Sibley, a major-general, and, after the war,

for a number of years in the employ of the Khedive of Egypt; Captain

George Crittenden, a rebel general; S. B. Buckner, who surrendered Fort

Donelson; and Mansfield Lovell, who commanded at New Orleans before that

city fell into the hands of the National troops. Of those who remained

on our side there were Captain Andrew Porter, Lieutenant C. P. Stone and

Lieutenant Z. B. Tower. There were quite a number of other officers,

whose names I cannot recollect.

At a little village (Ozumba) near the base of Popocatapetl, where we

purposed to commence the ascent, we procured guides and two pack mules

with forage for our horses. High up on the mountain there was a

deserted house of one room, called the Vaqueria, which had been occupied

years before by men in charge of cattle ranging on the mountain. The

pasturage up there was very fine when we saw it, and there were still

some cattle, descendants of the former domestic herd, which had now

become wild. It was possible to go on horseback as far as the Vaqueria,

though the road was somewhat hazardous in places. Sometimes it was very

narrow with a yawning precipice on one side, hundreds of feet down to a

roaring mountain torrent below, and almost perpendicular walls on the

other side. At one of these places one of our mules loaded with two

sacks of barley, one on each side, the two about as big as he was,

struck his load against the mountain-side and was precipitated to the

bottom. The descent was steep but not perpendicular. The mule rolled

over and over until the bottom was reached, and we supposed of course

the poor animal was dashed to pieces. What was our surprise, not long

after we had gone into bivouac, to see the lost mule, cargo and owner

coming up the ascent. The load had protected the animal from serious

injury; and his owner had gone after him and found a way back to the

path leading up to the hut where we were to stay.

The night at the Vaqueria was one of the most unpleasant I ever knew.

It was very cold and the rain fell in torrents. A little higher up the

rain ceased and snow began. The wind blew with great velocity. The

log-cabin we were in had lost the roof entirely on one side, and on the

other it was hardly better then a sieve. There was little or no sleep

that night. As soon as it was light the next morning, we started to

make the ascent to the summit. The wind continued to blow with violence

and the weather was still cloudy, but there was neither rain nor snow.

The clouds, however, concealed from our view the country below us,

except at times a momentary glimpse could be got through a clear space

between them. The wind carried the loose snow around the mountain-sides

in such volumes as to make it almost impossible to stand up against it.

We labored on and on, until it became evident that the top could not be

reached before night, if at all in such a storm, and we concluded to

return. The descent was easy and rapid, though dangerous, until we got

below the snow line. At the cabin we mounted our horses, and by night

were at Ozumba.

The fatigues of the day and the loss of sleep the night before drove us

to bed early. Our beds consisted of a place on the dirt-floor with a

blanket under us. Soon all were asleep; but long before morning first

one and then another of our party began to cry out with excruciating

pain in the eyes. Not one escaped it. By morning the eyes of half the

party were so swollen that they were entirely closed. The others

suffered pain equally. The feeling was about what might be expected

from the prick of a sharp needle at a white heat. We remained in

quarters until the afternoon bathing our eyes in cold water. This

relieved us very much, and before night the pain had entirely left. The

swelling, however, continued, and about half the party still had their

eyes entirely closed; but we concluded to make a start back, those who

could see a little leading the horses of those who could not see at all.

We moved back to the village of Ameca Ameca, some six miles, and stopped

again for the night. The next morning all were entirely well and free

from pain. The weather was clear and Popocatapetl stood out in all its

beauty, the top looking as if not a mile away, and inviting us to

return. About half the party were anxious to try the ascent again, and

concluded to do so. The remainder--I was with the remainder--concluded

that we had got all the pleasure there was to be had out of mountain

climbing, and that we would visit the great caves of Mexico, some ninety

miles from where we then were, on the road to Acapulco.

The party that ascended the mountain the second time succeeded in

reaching the crater at the top, with but little of the labor they

encountered in their first attempt. Three of them--Anderson, Stone and

Buckner--wrote accounts of their journey, which were published at the

time. I made no notes of this excursion, and have read nothing about it

since, but it seems to me that I can see the whole of it as vividly as

if it were but yesterday. I have been back at Ameca Ameca, and the

village beyond, twice in the last five years. The scene had not changed

materially from my recollection of it.

The party which I was with moved south down the valley to the town of

Cuantla, some forty miles from Ameca Ameca. The latter stands on the

plain at the foot of Popocatapetl, at an elevation of about eight

thousand feet above tide water. The slope down is gradual as the

traveller moves south, but one would not judge that, in going to

Cuantla, descent enough had been made to occasion a material change in

the climate and productions of the soil; but such is the case. In the

morning we left a temperate climate where the cereals and fruits are

those common to the United States, we halted in the evening in a

tropical climate where the orange and banana, the coffee and the

sugar-cane were flourishing. We had been travelling, apparently,

on a plain all day, but in the direction of the flow of water.

Soon after the capture of the City of Mexico an armistice had been

agreed to, designating the limits beyond which troops of the respective

armies were not to go during its continuance. Our party knew nothing

about these limits. As we approached Cuantla bugles sounded the

assembly, and soldiers rushed from the guard-house in the edge of the

town towards us. Our party halted, and I tied a white pocket

handkerchief to a stick and, using it as a flag of truce, proceeded on

to the town. Captains Sibley and Porter followed a few hundred yards

behind. I was detained at the guard-house until a messenger could be

dispatched to the quarters of the commanding general, who authorized

that I should be conducted to him. I had been with the general but a

few minutes when the two officers following announced themselves. The

Mexican general reminded us that it was a violation of the truce for us

to be there. However, as we had no special authority from our own

commanding general, and as we knew nothing about the terms of the truce,

we were permitted to occupy a vacant house outside the guard for the

night, with the promise of a guide to put us on the road to Cuernavaca

the next morning.

Cuernavaca is a town west of Cuantla. The country through which we

passed, between these two towns, is tropical in climate and productions

and rich in scenery. At one point, about half-way between the two

places, the road goes over a low pass in the mountains in which there is

a very quaint old town, the inhabitants of which at that day were nearly

all full-blooded Indians. Very few of them even spoke Spanish. The

houses were built of stone and generally only one story high. The

streets were narrow, and had probably been paved before Cortez visited

the country. They had not been graded, but the paving had been done on

the natural surface. We had with us one vehicle, a cart, which was

probably the first wheeled vehicle that had ever passed through that

town.

On a hill overlooking this town stands the tomb of an ancient king; and

it was understood that the inhabitants venerated this tomb very highly,

as well as the memory of the ruler who was supposed to be buried in it.

We ascended the mountain and surveyed the tomb; but it showed no

particular marks of architectural taste, mechanical skill or advanced

civilization. The next day we went into Cuernavaca.

After a day's rest at Cuernavaca our party set out again on the journey

to the great caves of Mexico. We had proceeded but a few miles when we

were stopped, as before, by a guard and notified that the terms of the

existing armistice did not permit us to go further in that direction.

Upon convincing the guard that we were a mere party of pleasure seekers

desirous of visiting the great natural curiosities of the country which

we expected soon to leave, we were conducted to a large hacienda near

by, and directed to remain there until the commanding general of that

department could be communicated with and his decision obtained as to

whether we should be permitted to pursue our journey. The guard

promised to send a messenger at once, and expected a reply by night. At

night there was no response from the commanding general, but the captain

of the guard was sure he would have a reply by morning. Again in the

morning there was no reply. The second evening the same thing happened,

and finally we learned that the guard had sent no message or messenger

to the department commander. We determined therefore to go on unless

stopped by a force sufficient to compel obedience.

After a few hours' travel we came to a town where a scene similar to the

one at Cuantia occurred. The commanding officer sent a guide to conduct

our party around the village and to put us upon our road again. This

was the last interruption: that night we rested at a large coffee

plantation, some eight miles from the cave we were on the way to visit.

It must have been a Saturday night; the peons had been paid off, and

spent part of the night in gambling away their scanty week's earnings.

Their coin was principally copper, and I do not believe there was a man

among them who had received as much as twenty-five cents in money. They

were as much excited, however, as if they had been staking thousands. I

recollect one poor fellow, who had lost his last clacko, pulled off his

shirt and, in the most excited manner, put that up on the turn of a

card. Monte was the game played, the place out of doors, near the

window of the room occupied by the officers of our party.

The next morning we were at the mouth of the cave at an early hour,

provided with guides, candles and rockets. We explored to a distance of

about three miles from the entrance, and found a succession of chambers

of great dimensions and of great beauty when lit up with our rockets.

Stalactites and stalagmites of all sizes were discovered. Some of the

former were many feet in diameter and extended from ceiling to floor;

some of the latter were but a few feet high from the floor; but the

formation is going on constantly, and many centuries hence these

stalagmites will extend to the ceiling and become complete columns. The

stalagmites were all a little concave, and the cavities were filled with

water. The water percolates through the roof, a drop at a time--often

the drops several minutes apart--and more or less charged with mineral

matter. Evaporation goes on slowly, leaving the mineral behind. This

in time makes the immense columns, many of them thousands of tons in

weight, which serve to support the roofs over the vast chambers. I

recollect that at one point in the cave one of these columns is of such

huge proportions that there is only a narrow passage left on either side

of it. Some of our party became satisfied with their explorations

before we had reached the point to which the guides were accustomed to

take explorers, and started back without guides. Coming to the large

column spoken of, they followed it entirely around, and commenced

retracing their steps into the bowels of the mountain, without being

aware of the fact. When the rest of us had completed our explorations,

we started out with our guides, but had not gone far before we saw the

torches of an approaching party. We could not conceive who these could

be, for all of us had come in together, and there were none but

ourselves at the entrance when we started in. Very soon we found it was

our friends. It took them some time to conceive how they had got where

they were. They were sure they had kept straight on for the mouth of

the cave, and had gone about far enough to have reached it.

CHAPTER XIV.

RETURN OF THE ARMY--MARRIAGE--ORDERED TO THE PACIFIC COAST--CROSSING THE

ISTHMUS--ARRIVAL AT SAN FRANCISCO.

My experience in the Mexican war was of great advantage to me

afterwards. Besides the many practical lessons it taught, the war

brought nearly all the officers of the regular army together so as to

make them personally acquainted. It also brought them in contact with

volunteers, many of whom served in the war of the rebellion afterwards.

Then, in my particular case, I had been at West Point at about the right

time to meet most of the graduates who were of a suitable age at the

breaking out of the rebellion to be trusted with large commands.

Graduating in 1843, I was at the military academy from one to four years

with all cadets who graduated between 1840 and 1846--seven classes.

These classes embraced more than fifty officers who afterwards became

generals on one side or the other in the rebellion, many of them holding

high commands. All the older officers, who became conspicuous in the

rebellion, I had also served with and known in Mexico: Lee, J. E.

Johnston, A. S. Johnston, Holmes, Hebert and a number of others on the

Confederate side; McCall, Mansfield, Phil. Kearney and others on the

National side. The acquaintance thus formed was of immense service to

me in the war of the rebellion--I mean what I learned of the characters

of those to whom I was afterwards opposed. I do not pretend to say that

all movements, or even many of them, were made with special reference to

the characteristics of the commander against whom they were directed.

But my appreciation of my enemies was certainly affected by this

knowledge. The natural disposition of most people is to clothe a

commander of a large army whom they do not know, with almost superhuman

abilities. A large part of the National army, for instance, and most of

the press of the country, clothed General Lee with just such qualities,

but I had known him personally, and knew that he was mortal; and it was

just as well that I felt this.

The treaty of peace was at last ratified, and the evacuation of Mexico

by United States troops was ordered. Early in June the troops in the

City of Mexico began to move out. Many of them, including the brigade

to which I belonged, were assembled at Jalapa, above the vomito, to

await the arrival of transports at Vera Cruz: but with all this

precaution my regiment and others were in camp on the sand beach in a

July sun, for about a week before embarking, while the fever raged with

great virulence in Vera Cruz, not two miles away. I can call to mind

only one person, an officer, who died of the disease. My regiment was

sent to Pascagoula, Mississippi, to spend the summer. As soon as it was

settled in camp I obtained a leave of absence for four months and

proceeded to St. Louis. On the 22d of August, 1848, I was married to

Miss Julia Dent, the lady of whom I have before spoken. We visited my

parents and relations in Ohio, and, at the end of my leave, proceeded to

my post at Sackett's Harbor, New York. In April following I was ordered

to Detroit, Michigan, where two years were spent with but few important

incidents.

The present constitution of the State of Michigan was ratified during

this time. By the terms of one of its provisions, all citizens of the

United States residing within the State at the time of the ratification

became citizens of Michigan also. During my stay in Detroit there was an

election for city officers. Mr. Zachariah Chandler was the candidate of

the Whigs for the office of Mayor, and was elected, although the city

was then reckoned democratic. All the officers stationed there at the

time who offered their votes were permitted to cast them. I did not

offer mine, however, as I did not wish to consider myself a citizen of

Michigan. This was Mr. Chandler's first entry into politics, a career

he followed ever after with great success, and in which he died enjoying

the friendship, esteem and love of his countrymen.

In the spring of 1851 the garrison at Detroit was transferred to

Sackett's Harbor, and in the following spring the entire 4th infantry

was ordered to the Pacific Coast. It was decided that Mrs. Grant should

visit my parents at first for a few months, and then remain with her own

family at their St. Louis home until an opportunity offered of sending

for her. In the month of April the regiment was assembled at Governor's

Island, New York Harbor, and on the 5th of July eight companies sailed

for Aspinwall. We numbered a little over seven hundred persons,

including the families of officers and soldiers. Passage was secured

for us on the old steamer Ohio, commanded at the time by Captain

Schenck, of the navy. It had not been determined, until a day or two

before starting, that the 4th infantry should go by the Ohio;

consequently, a complement of passengers had already been secured. The

addition of over seven hundred to this list crowded the steamer most

uncomfortably, especially for the tropics in July.

In eight days Aspinwall was reached. At that time the streets of the

town were eight or ten inches under water, and foot passengers passed

from place to place on raised foot-walks. July is at the height of the

wet season, on the Isthmus. At intervals the rain would pour down in

streams, followed in not many minutes by a blazing, tropical summer's

sun. These alternate changes, from rain to sunshine, were continuous in

the afternoons. I wondered how any person could live many months in

Aspinwall, and wondered still more why any one tried.

In the summer of 1852 the Panama railroad was completed only to the

point where it now crosses the Chagres River. From there passengers

were carried by boats to Gorgona, at which place they took mules for

Panama, some twenty-five miles further. Those who travelled over the

Isthmus in those days will remember that boats on the Chagres River were

propelled by natives not inconveniently burdened with clothing. These

boats carried thirty to forty passengers each. The crews consisted of

six men to a boat, armed with long poles. There were planks wide enough

for a man to walk on conveniently, running along the sides of each boat

from end to end. The men would start from the bow, place one end of

their poles against the river bottom, brace their shoulders against the

other end, and then walk to the stern as rapidly as they could. In this

way from a mile to a mile and a half an hour could be made, against the

current of the river.

I, as regimental quartermaster, had charge of the public property and

had also to look after the transportation. A contract had been entered

into with the steamship company in New York for the transportation of

the regiment to California, including the Isthmus transit. A certain

amount of baggage was allowed per man, and saddle animals were to be

furnished to commissioned officers and to all disabled persons. The

regiment, with the exception of one company left as guards to the public

property--camp and garrison equipage principally--and the soldiers with

families, took boats, propelled as above described, for Gorgona. From

this place they marched to Panama, and were soon comfortably on the

steamer anchored in the bay, some three or four miles from the town. I,

with one company of troops and all the soldiers with families, all the

tents, mess chests and camp kettles, was sent to Cruces, a town a few

miles higher up the Chagres River than Gorgona. There I found an

impecunious American who had taken the contract to furnish

transportation for the regiment at a stipulated price per hundred pounds

for the freight and so much for each saddle animal. But when we reached

Cruces there was not a mule, either for pack or saddle, in the place.

The contractor promised that the animals should be on hand in the

morning. In the morning he said that they were on the way from some

imaginary place, and would arrive in the course of the day. This went

on until I saw that he could not procure the animals at all at the price

he had promised to furnish them for. The unusual number of passengers

that had come over on the steamer, and the large amount of freight to

pack, had created an unprecedented demand for mules. Some of the

passengers paid as high as forty dollars for the use of a mule to ride

twenty-five miles, when the mule would not have sold for ten dollars in

that market at other times. Meanwhile the cholera had broken out, and

men were dying every hour. To diminish the food for the disease, I

permitted the company detailed with me to proceed to Panama. The

captain and the doctors accompanied the men, and I was left alone with

the sick and the soldiers who had families. The regiment at Panama was

also affected with the disease; but there were better accommodations for

the well on the steamer, and a hospital, for those taken with the

disease, on an old hulk anchored a mile off. There were also hospital

tents on shore on the island of Flamingo, which stands in the bay.

I was about a week at Cruces before transportation began to come in.

About one-third of the people with me died, either at Cruces or on the

way to Panama. There was no agent of the transportation company at

Cruces to consult, or to take the responsibility of procuring

transportation at a price which would secure it. I therefore myself

dismissed the contractor and made a new contract with a native, at more

than double the original price. Thus we finally reached Panama. The

steamer, however, could not proceed until the cholera abated, and the

regiment was detained still longer. Altogether, on the Isthmus and on

the Pacific side, we were delayed six weeks. About one-seventh of those

who left New York harbor with the 4th infantry on the 5th of July, now

lie buried on the Isthmus of Panama or on Flamingo island in Panama Bay.

One amusing circumstance occurred while we were lying at anchor in

Panama Bay. In the regiment there was a Lieutenant Slaughter who was

very liable to sea-sickness. It almost made him sick to see the wave of

a table-cloth when the servants were spreading it. Soon after his

graduation, Slaughter was ordered to California and took passage by a

sailing vessel going around Cape Horn. The vessel was seven months

making the voyage, and Slaughter was sick every moment of the time,

never more so than while lying at anchor after reaching his place of

destination. On landing in California he found orders which had come by

the Isthmus, notifying him of a mistake in his assignment; he should

have been ordered to the northern lakes. He started back by the Isthmus

route and was sick all the way. But when he arrived at the East he was

again ordered to California, this time definitely, and at this date was

making his third trip. He was as sick as ever, and had been so for more

than a month while lying at anchor in the bay. I remember him well,

seated with his elbows on the table in front of him, his chin between

his hands, and looking the picture of despair. At last he broke out, "I

wish I had taken my father's advice; he wanted me to go into the navy;

if I had done so, I should not have had to go to sea so much." Poor

Slaughter! it was his last sea voyage. He was killed by Indians in

Oregon.

By the last of August the cholera had so abated that it was deemed safe

to start. The disease did not break out again on the way to California,

and we reached San Francisco early in September.

CHAPTER XV.

SAN FRANCISCO--EARLY CALIFORNIA EXPERIENCES--LIFE ON THE PACIFIC COAST

--PROMOTED CAPTAIN--FLUSH TIMES IN CALIFORNIA.

San Francisco at that day was a lively place. Gold, or placer digging

as it was called, was at its height. Steamers plied daily between San

Francisco and both Stockton and Sacramento. Passengers and gold from the

southern mines came by the Stockton boat; from the northern mines by

Sacramento. In the evening when these boats arrived, Long Wharf--there

was but one wharf in San Francisco in 1852--was alive with people

crowding to meet the miners as they came down to sell their "dust" and

to "have a time." Of these some were runners for hotels, boarding

houses or restaurants; others belonged to a class of impecunious

adventurers, of good manners and good presence, who were ever on the

alert to make the acquaintance of people with some ready means, in the

hope of being asked to take a meal at a restaurant. Many were young men

of good family, good education and gentlemanly instincts. Their parents

had been able to support them during their minority, and to give them

good educations, but not to maintain them afterwards. From 1849 to 1853

there was a rush of people to the Pacific coast, of the class described.

All thought that fortunes were to be picked up, without effort, in the

gold fields on the Pacific. Some realized more than their most sanguine

expectations; but for one such there were hundreds disappointed, many of

whom now fill unknown graves; others died wrecks of their former selves,

and many, without a vicious instinct, became criminals and outcasts.

Many of the real scenes in early California life exceed in strangeness

and interest any of the mere products of the brain of the novelist.

Those early days in California brought out character. It was a long way

off then, and the journey was expensive. The fortunate could go by Cape

Horn or by the Isthmus of Panama; but the mass of pioneers crossed the

plains with their ox-teams. This took an entire summer. They were very

lucky when they got through with a yoke of worn-out cattle. All other

means were exhausted in procuring the outfit on the Missouri River. The

immigrant, on arriving, found himself a stranger, in a strange land, far

from friends. Time pressed, for the little means that could be realized

from the sale of what was left of the outfit would not support a man

long at California prices. Many became discouraged. Others would take

off their coats and look for a job, no matter what it might be. These

succeeded as a rule. There were many young men who had studied

professions before they went to California, and who had never done a

day's manual labor in their lives, who took in the situation at once and

went to work to make a start at anything they could get to do. Some

supplied carpenters and masons with material--carrying plank, brick, or

mortar, as the case might be; others drove stages, drays, or baggage

wagons, until they could do better. More became discouraged early and

spent their time looking up people who would "treat," or lounging about

restaurants and gambling houses where free lunches were furnished daily.

They were welcomed at these places because they often brought in miners

who proved good customers.

My regiment spent a few weeks at Benicia barracks, and then was ordered

to Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River, then in Oregon Territory.

During the winter of 1852-3 the territory was divided, all north of the

Columbia River being taken from Oregon to make Washington Territory.

Prices for all kinds of supplies were so high on the Pacific coast from

1849 until at least 1853--that it would have been impossible for

officers of the army to exist upon their pay, if it had not been that

authority was given them to purchase from the commissary such supplies

as he kept, at New Orleans wholesale prices. A cook could not be hired

for the pay of a captain. The cook could do better. At Benicia, in

1852, flour was 25 cents per pound; potatoes were 16 cents; beets,

turnips and cabbage, 6 cents; onions, 37 1/2 cents; meat and other

articles in proportion. In 1853 at Vancouver vegetables were a little

lower. I with three other officers concluded that we would raise a crop

for ourselves, and by selling the surplus realize something handsome. I

bought a pair of horses that had crossed the plains that summer and were

very poor. They recuperated rapidly, however, and proved a good team to

break up the ground with. I performed all the labor of breaking up the

ground while the other officers planted the potatoes. Our crop was

enormous. Luckily for us the Columbia River rose to a great height from

the melting of the snow in the mountains in June, and overflowed and

killed most of our crop. This saved digging it up, for everybody on the

Pacific coast seemed to have come to the conclusion at the same time

that agriculture would be profitable. In 1853 more than three-quarters

of the potatoes raised were permitted to rot in the ground, or had to be

thrown away. The only potatoes we sold were to our own mess.

While I was stationed on the Pacific coast we were free from Indian

wars. There were quite a number of remnants of tribes in the vicinity

of Portland in Oregon, and of Fort Vancouver in Washington Territory.

They had generally acquired some of the vices of civilization, but none

of the virtues, except in individual cases. The Hudson's Bay Company

had held the North-west with their trading posts for many years before

the United States was represented on the Pacific coast. They still

retained posts along the Columbia River and one at Fort Vancouver, when

I was there. Their treatment of the Indians had brought out the better

qualities of the savages. Farming had been undertaken by the company to

supply the Indians with bread and vegetables; they raised some cattle

and horses; and they had now taught the Indians to do the labor of the

farm and herd. They always compensated them for their labor, and always

gave them goods of uniform quality and at uniform price.

Before the advent of the American, the medium of exchange between the

Indian and the white man was pelts. Afterward it was silver coin. If

an Indian received in the sale of a horse a fifty dollar gold piece, not

an infrequent occurrence, the first thing he did was to exchange it for

American half dollars. These he could count. He would then commence his

purchases, paying for each article separately, as he got it. He would

not trust any one to add up the bill and pay it all at once. At that

day fifty dollar gold pieces, not the issue of the government, were

common on the Pacific coast. They were called slugs.

The Indians, along the lower Columbia as far as the Cascades and on the

lower Willamette, died off very fast during the year I spent in that

section; for besides acquiring the vices of the white people they had

acquired also their diseases. The measles and the small-pox were both

amazingly fatal. In their wild state, before the appearance of the

white man among them, the principal complaints they were subject to were

those produced by long involuntary fasting, violent exercise in pursuit

of game, and over-eating. Instinct more than reason had taught them a

remedy for these ills. It was the steam bath. Something like a

bake-oven was built, large enough to admit a man lying down. Bushes were

stuck in the ground in two rows, about six feet long and some two or

three feet apart; other bushes connected the rows at one end. The tops

of the bushes were drawn together to interlace, and confined in that

position; the whole was then plastered over with wet clay until every

opening was filled. Just inside the open end of the oven the floor was

scooped out so as to make a hole that would hold a bucket or two of

water. These ovens were always built on the banks of a stream, a big

spring, or pool of water. When a patient required a bath, a fire was

built near the oven and a pile of stones put upon it. The cavity at the

front was then filled with water. When the stones were sufficiently

heated, the patient would draw himself into the oven; a blanket would be

thrown over the open end, and hot stones put into the water until the

patient could stand it no longer. He was then withdrawn from his steam

bath and doused into the cold stream near by. This treatment may have

answered with the early ailments of the Indians. With the measles or

small-pox it would kill every time.

During my year on the Columbia River, the small-pox exterminated one

small remnant of a band of Indians entirely, and reduced others

materially. I do not think there was a case of recovery among them,

until the doctor with the Hudson Bay Company took the matter in hand and

established a hospital. Nearly every case he treated recovered. I

never, myself, saw the treatment described in the preceding paragraph,

but have heard it described by persons who have witnessed it. The

decimation among the Indians I knew of personally, and the hospital,

established for their benefit, was a Hudson's Bay building not a stone's

throw from my own quarters.

The death of Colonel Bliss, of the Adjutant General's department, which

occurred July 5th, 1853, promoted me to the captaincy of a company then

stationed at Humboldt Bay, California. The notice reached me in

September of the same year, and I very soon started to join my new

command. There was no way of reaching Humboldt at that time except to

take passage on a San Francisco sailing vessel going after lumber. Red

wood, a species of cedar, which on the Pacific coast takes the place

filled by white pine in the East, then abounded on the banks of Humboldt

Bay. There were extensive saw-mills engaged in preparing this lumber

for the San Francisco market, and sailing vessels, used in getting it to

market, furnished the only means of communication between Humboldt and

the balance of the world.

I was obliged to remain in San Francisco for several days before I found

a vessel. This gave me a good opportunity of comparing the San

Francisco of 1852 with that of 1853. As before stated, there had been

but one wharf in front of the city in 1852--Long Wharf. In 1853 the

town had grown out into the bay beyond what was the end of this wharf

when I first saw it. Streets and houses had been built out on piles

where the year before the largest vessels visiting the port lay at

anchor or tied to the wharf. There was no filling under the streets or

houses. San Francisco presented the same general appearance as the year

before; that is, eating, drinking and gambling houses were conspicuous

for their number and publicity. They were on the first floor, with

doors wide open. At all hours of the day and night in walking the

streets, the eye was regaled, on every block near the water front, by

the sight of players at faro. Often broken places were found in the

street, large enough to let a man down into the water below. I have but

little doubt that many of the people who went to the Pacific coast in

the early days of the gold excitement, and have never been heard from

since, or who were heard from for a time and then ceased to write, found

watery graves beneath the houses or streets built over San Francisco

Bay.

Besides the gambling in cards there was gambling on a larger scale in

city lots. These were sold "On Change," much as stocks are now sold on

Wall Street. Cash, at time of purchase, was always paid by the broker;

but the purchaser had only to put up his margin. He was charged at the

rate of two or three per cent. a month on the difference, besides

commissions. The sand hills, some of them almost inaccessible to

foot-passengers, were surveyed off and mapped into fifty vara lots--a

vara being a Spanish yard. These were sold at first at very low prices,

but were sold and resold for higher prices until they went up to many

thousands of dollars. The brokers did a fine business, and so did many

such purchasers as were sharp enough to quit purchasing before the final

crash came. As the city grew, the sand hills back of the town furnished

material for filling up the bay under the houses and streets, and still

further out. The temporary houses, first built over the water in the

harbor, soon gave way to more solid structures. The main business part

of the city now is on solid ground, made where vessels of the largest

class lay at anchor in the early days. I was in San Francisco again in

1854. Gambling houses had disappeared from public view. The city had

become staid and orderly.

CHAPTER XVI.

RESIGNATION--PRIVATE LIFE--LIFE AT GALENA--THE COMING CRISIS.

My family, all this while, was at the East. It consisted now of a wife

and two children. I saw no chance of supporting them on the Pacific

coast out of my pay as an army officer. I concluded, therefore, to

resign, and in March applied for a leave of absence until the end of the

July following, tendering my resignation to take effect at the end of

that time. I left the Pacific coast very much attached to it, and with

the full expectation of making it my future home. That expectation and

that hope remained uppermost in my mind until the Lieutenant-Generalcy

bill was introduced into Congress in the winter of 1863-4. The passage

of that bill, and my promotion, blasted my last hope of ever becoming a

citizen of the further West.

In the late summer of 1854 I rejoined my family, to find in it a son

whom I had never seen, born while I was on the Isthmus of Panama. I was

now to commence, at the age of thirty-two, a new struggle for our

support. My wife had a farm near St. Louis, to which we went, but I had

no means to stock it. A house had to be built also. I worked very

hard, never losing a day because of bad weather, and accomplished the

object in a moderate way. If nothing else could be done I would load a

cord of wood on a wagon and take it to the city for sale. I managed to

keep along very well until 1858, when I was attacked by fever and ague.

I had suffered very severely and for a long time from this disease,

while a boy in Ohio. It lasted now over a year, and, while it did not

keep me in the house, it did interfere greatly with the amount of work I

was able to perform. In the fall of 1858 I sold out my stock, crops and

farming utensils at auction, and gave up farming.

In the winter I established a partnership with Harry Boggs, a cousin of

Mrs. Grant, in the real estate agency business. I spent that winter at

St. Louis myself, but did not take my family into town until the spring.

Our business might have become prosperous if I had been able to wait for

it to grow. As it was, there was no more than one person could attend

to, and not enough to support two families. While a citizen of St.

Louis and engaged in the real estate agency business, I was a candidate

for the office of county engineer, an office of respectability and

emolument which would have been very acceptable to me at that time. The

incumbent was appointed by the county court, which consisted of five

members. My opponent had the advantage of birth over me (he was a

citizen by adoption) and carried off the prize. I now withdrew from the

co-partnership with Boggs, and, in May, 1860, removed to Galena,

Illinois, and took a clerkship in my father's store.

While a citizen of Missouri, my first opportunity for casting a vote at

a Presidential election occurred. I had been in the army from before

attaining my majority and had thought but little about politics,

although I was a Whig by education and a great admirer of Mr. Clay. But

the Whig party had ceased to exist before I had an opportunity of

exercising the privilege of casting a ballot; the Know-Nothing party had

taken its place, but was on the wane; and the Republican party was in a

chaotic state and had not yet received a name. It had no existence in

the Slave States except at points on the borders next to Free States.

In St. Louis City and County, what afterwards became the Republican

party was known as the Free-Soil Democracy, led by the Honorable Frank

P. Blair. Most of my neighbors had known me as an officer of the army

with Whig proclivities. They had been on the same side, and, on the

death of their party, many had become Know-Nothings, or members of the

American party. There was a lodge near my new home, and I was invited to

join it. I accepted the invitation; was initiated; attended a meeting

just one week later, and never went to another afterwards.

I have no apologies to make for having been one week a member of the

American party; for I still think native-born citizens of the United

States should have as much protection, as many privileges in their

native country, as those who voluntarily select it for a home. But all

secret, oath-bound political parties are dangerous to any nation, no

matter how pure or how patriotic the motives and principles which first

bring them together. No political party can or ought to exist when one

of its corner-stones is opposition to freedom of thought and to the

right to worship God "according to the dictate of one's own conscience,"

or according to the creed of any religious denomination whatever.

Nevertheless, if a sect sets up its laws as binding above the State

laws, wherever the two come in conflict this claim must be resisted and

suppressed at whatever cost.

Up to the Mexican war there were a few out and out abolitionists, men

who carried their hostility to slavery into all elections, from those

for a justice of the peace up to the Presidency of the United States.

They were noisy but not numerous. But the great majority of people at

the North, where slavery did not exist, were opposed to the institution,

and looked upon its existence in any part of the country as unfortunate.

They did not hold the States where slavery existed responsible for it;

and believed that protection should be given to the right of property in

slaves until some satisfactory way could be reached to be rid of the

institution. Opposition to slavery was not a creed of either political

party. In some sections more anti-slavery men belonged to the

Democratic party, and in others to the Whigs. But with the inauguration

of the Mexican war, in fact with the annexation of Texas, "the

inevitable conflict" commenced.

As the time for the Presidential election of 1856--the first at which I

had the opportunity of voting--approached, party feeling began to run

high. The Republican party was regarded in the South and the border

States not only as opposed to the extension of slavery, but as favoring

the compulsory abolition of the institution without compensation to the

owners. The most horrible visions seemed to present themselves to the

minds of people who, one would suppose, ought to have known better.

Many educated and, otherwise, sensible persons appeared to believe that

emancipation meant social equality. Treason to the Government was

openly advocated and was not rebuked. It was evident to my mind that

the election of a Republican President in 1856 meant the secession of

all the Slave States, and rebellion. Under these circumstances I

preferred the success of a candidate whose election would prevent or

postpone secession, to seeing the country plunged into a war the end of

which no man could foretell. With a Democrat elected by the unanimous

vote of the Slave States, there could be no pretext for secession for

four years. I very much hoped that the passions of the people would

subside in that time, and the catastrophe be averted altogether; if it

was not, I believed the country would be better prepared to receive the

shock and to resist it. I therefore voted for James Buchanan for

President. Four years later the Republican party was successful in

electing its candidate to the Presidency. The civilized world has

learned the consequence. Four millions of human beings held as chattels

have been liberated; the ballot has been given to them; the free schools

of the country have been opened to their children. The nation still

lives, and the people are just as free to avoid social intimacy with the

blacks as ever they were, or as they are with white people.

While living in Galena I was nominally only a clerk supporting myself

and family on a stipulated salary. In reality my position was

different. My father had never lived in Galena himself, but had

established my two brothers there, the one next younger than myself in

charge of the business, assisted by the youngest. When I went there it

was my father's intention to give up all connection with the business

himself, and to establish his three sons in it: but the brother who had

really built up the business was sinking with consumption, and it was

not thought best to make any change while he was in this condition. He

lived until September, 1861, when he succumbed to that insidious disease

which always flatters its victims into the belief that they are growing

better up to the close of life. A more honorable man never transacted

business. In September, 1861, I was engaged in an employment which

required all my attention elsewhere.

During the eleven months that I lived in Galena prior to the first call

for volunteers, I had been strictly attentive to my business, and had

made but few acquaintances other than customers and people engaged in

the same line with myself. When the election took place in November,

1860, I had not been a resident of Illinois long enough to gain

citizenship and could not, therefore, vote. I was really glad of this

at the time, for my pledges would have compelled me to vote for Stephen

A. Douglas, who had no possible chance of election. The contest was

really between Mr. Breckinridge and Mr. Lincoln; between minority rule

and rule by the majority. I wanted, as between these candidates, to see

Mr. Lincoln elected. Excitement ran high during the canvass, and

torch-light processions enlivened the scene in the generally quiet

streets of Galena many nights during the campaign. I did not parade

with either party, but occasionally met with the "wide awakes"

--Republicans--in their rooms, and superintended their drill. It was

evident, from the time of the Chicago nomination to the close of the

canvass, that the election of the Republican candidate would be the

signal for some of the Southern States to secede. I still had hopes

that the four years which had elapsed since the first nomination of a

Presidential candidate by a party distinctly opposed to slavery

extension, had given time for the extreme pro-slavery sentiment to cool

down; for the Southerners to think well before they took the awful leap

which they had so vehemently threatened. But I was mistaken.

The Republican candidate was elected, and solid substantial people of

the North-west, and I presume the same order of people throughout the

entire North, felt very serious, but determined, after this event. It

was very much discussed whether the South would carry out its threat to

secede and set up a separate government, the corner-stone of which

should be, protection to the "Divine" institution of slavery. For there

were people who believed in the "divinity" of human slavery, as there

are now people who believe Mormonism and Polygamy to be ordained by the

Most High. We forgive them for entertaining such notions, but forbid

their practice. It was generally believed that there would be a flurry;

that some of the extreme Southern States would go so far as to pass

ordinances of secession. But the common impression was that this step

was so plainly suicidal for the South, that the movement would not

spread over much of the territory and would not last long.

Doubtless the founders of our government, the majority of them at least,

regarded the confederation of the colonies as an experiment. Each

colony considered itself a separate government; that the confederation

was for mutual protection against a foreign foe, and the prevention of

strife and war among themselves. If there had been a desire on the part

of any single State to withdraw from the compact at any time while the

number of States was limited to the original thirteen, I do not suppose

there would have been any to contest the right, no matter how much the

determination might have been regretted. The problem changed on the

ratification of the Constitution by all the colonies; it changed still

more when amendments were added; and if the right of any one State to

withdraw continued to exist at all after the ratification of the

Constitution, it certainly ceased on the formation of new States, at

least so far as the new States themselves were concerned. It was never

possessed at all by Florida or the States west of the Mississippi, all

of which were purchased by the treasury of the entire nation. Texas and

the territory brought into the Union in consequence of annexation, were

purchased with both blood and treasure; and Texas, with a domain greater

than that of any European state except Russia, was permitted to retain

as state property all the public lands within its borders. It would

have been ingratitude and injustice of the most flagrant sort for this

State to withdraw from the Union after all that had been spent and done

to introduce her; yet, if separation had actually occurred, Texas must

necessarily have gone with the South, both on account of her

institutions and her geographical position. Secession was illogical as

well as impracticable; it was revolution.

Now, the right of revolution is an inherent one. When people are

oppressed by their government, it is a natural right they enjoy to

relieve themselves of the oppression, if they are strong enough, either

by withdrawal from it, or by overthrowing it and substituting a

government more acceptable. But any people or part of a people who

resort to this remedy, stake their lives, their property, and every

claim for protection given by citizenship--on the issue. Victory, or

the conditions imposed by the conqueror--must be the result.

In the case of the war between the States it would have been the exact

truth if the South had said,--"We do not want to live with you Northern

people any longer; we know our institution of slavery is obnoxious to

you, and, as you are growing numerically stronger than we, it may at

some time in the future be endangered. So long as you permitted us to

control the government, and with the aid of a few friends at the North

to enact laws constituting your section a guard against the escape of

our property, we were willing to live with you. You have been

submissive to our rule heretofore; but it looks now as if you did not

intend to continue so, and we will remain in the Union no longer."

Instead of this the seceding States cried lustily,--"Let us alone; you

have no constitutional power to interfere with us." Newspapers and

people at the North reiterated the cry. Individuals might ignore the

constitution; but the Nation itself must not only obey it, but must

enforce the strictest construction of that instrument; the construction

put upon it by the Southerners themselves. The fact is the constitution

did not apply to any such contingency as the one existing from 1861 to

1865. Its framers never dreamed of such a contingency occurring. If

they had foreseen it, the probabilities are they would have sanctioned

the right of a State or States to withdraw rather than that there should

be war between brothers.

The framers were wise in their generation and wanted to do the very best

possible to secure their own liberty and independence, and that also of

their descendants to the latest days. It is preposterous to suppose

that the people of one generation can lay down the best and only rules

of government for all who are to come after them, and under unforeseen

contingencies. At the time of the framing of our constitution the only

physical forces that had been subdued and made to serve man and do his

labor, were the currents in the streams and in the air we breathe. Rude

machinery, propelled by water power, had been invented; sails to propel

ships upon the waters had been set to catch the passing breeze--but the

application of steam to propel vessels against both wind and current,

and machinery to do all manner of work had not been thought of. The

instantaneous transmission of messages around the world by means of

electricity would probably at that day have been attributed to

witchcraft or a league with the Devil. Immaterial circumstances had

changed as greatly as material ones. We could not and ought not to be

rigidly bound by the rules laid down under circumstances so different

for emergencies so utterly unanticipated. The fathers themselves would

have been the first to declare that their prerogatives were not

irrevocable. They would surely have resisted secession could they have

lived to see the shape it assumed.

I travelled through the Northwest considerably during the winter of

1860-1. We had customers in all the little towns in south-west

Wisconsin, south-east Minnesota and north-east Iowa. These generally

knew I had been a captain in the regular army and had served through the

Mexican war. Consequently wherever I stopped at night, some of the

people would come to the public-house where I was, and sit till a late

hour discussing the probabilities of the future. My own views at that

time were like those officially expressed by Mr. Seward at a later day,

that "the war would be over in ninety days." I continued to entertain

these views until after the battle of Shiloh. I believe now that there

would have been no more battles at the West after the capture of Fort

Donelson if all the troops in that region had been under a single

commander who would have followed up that victory.

There is little doubt in my mind now that the prevailing sentiment of

the South would have been opposed to secession in 1860 and 1861, if

there had been a fair and calm expression of opinion, unbiased by

threats, and if the ballot of one legal voter had counted for as much as

that of any other. But there was no calm discussion of the question.

Demagogues who were too old to enter the army if there should be a war,

others who entertained so high an opinion of their own ability that they

did not believe they could be spared from the direction of the affairs

of state in such an event, declaimed vehemently and unceasingly against

the North; against its aggressions upon the South; its interference with

Southern rights, etc., etc. They denounced the Northerners as cowards,

poltroons, negro-worshippers; claimed that one Southern man was equal to

five Northern men in battle; that if the South would stand up for its

rights the North would back down. Mr. Jefferson Davis said in a speech,

delivered at La Grange, Mississippi, before the secession of that State,

that he would agree to drink all the blood spilled south of Mason and

Dixon's line if there should be a war. The young men who would have the

fighting to do in case of war, believed all these statements, both in

regard to the aggressiveness of the North and its cowardice. They, too,

cried out for a separation from such people. The great bulk of the

legal voters of the South were men who owned no slaves; their homes were

generally in the hills and poor country; their facilities for educating

their children, even up to the point of reading and writing, were very

limited; their interest in the contest was very meagre--what there was,

if they had been capable of seeing it, was with the North; they too

needed emancipation. Under the old regime they were looked down upon by

those who controlled all the affairs in the interest of slave-owners, as

poor white trash who were allowed the ballot so long as they cast it

according to direction.

I am aware that this last statement may be disputed and individual

testimony perhaps adduced to show that in ante-bellum days the ballot

was as untrammelled in the south as in any section of the country; but

in the face of any such contradiction I reassert the statement. The

shot-gun was not resorted to. Masked men did not ride over the country

at night intimidating voters; but there was a firm feeling that a class

existed in every State with a sort of divine right to control public

affairs. If they could not get this control by one means they must by

another. The end justified the means. The coercion, if mild, was

complete.

There were two political parties, it is true, in all the States, both

strong in numbers and respectability, but both equally loyal to the

institution which stood paramount in Southern eyes to all other

institutions in state or nation. The slave-owners were the minority,

but governed both parties. Had politics ever divided the slave-holders

and the non-slave-holders, the majority would have been obliged to

yield, or internecine war would have been the consequence. I do not

know that the Southern people were to blame for this condition of

affairs. There was a time when slavery was not profitable, and the

discussion of the merits of the institution was confined almost

exclusively to the territory where it existed. The States of Virginia

and Kentucky came near abolishing slavery by their own acts, one State

defeating the measure by a tie vote and the other only lacking one. But

when the institution became profitable, all talk of its abolition ceased

where it existed; and naturally, as human nature is constituted,

arguments were adduced in its support. The cotton-gin probably had much

to do with the justification of slavery.

The winter of 1860-1 will be remembered by middle-aged people of to-day

as one of great excitement. South Carolina promptly seceded after the

result of the Presidential election was known. Other Southern States

proposed to follow. In some of them the Union sentiment was so strong

that it had to be suppressed by force. Maryland, Delaware, Kentucky and

Missouri, all Slave States, failed to pass ordinances of secession; but

they were all represented in the so-called congress of the so-called

Confederate States. The Governor and Lieutenant-Governor of Missouri,

in 1861, Jackson and Reynolds, were both supporters of the rebellion and

took refuge with the enemy. The governor soon died, and the

lieutenant-governor assumed his office; issued proclamations as governor

of the State; was recognized as such by the Confederate Government, and

continued his pretensions until the collapse of the rebellion. The South

claimed the sovereignty of States, but claimed the right to coerce into

their confederation such States as they wanted, that is, all the States

where slavery existed. They did not seem to think this course

inconsistent. The fact is, the Southern slave-owners believed that, in

some way, the ownership of slaves conferred a sort of patent of

nobility--a right to govern independent of the interest or wishes of

those who did not hold such property. They convinced themselves, first,

of the divine origin of the institution and, next, that that particular

institution was not safe in the hands of any body of legislators but

themselves.

Meanwhile the Administration of President Buchanan looked helplessly on

and proclaimed that the general government had no power to interfere;

that the Nation had no power to save its own life. Mr. Buchanan had in

his cabinet two members at least, who were as earnest--to use a mild

term--in the cause of secession as Mr. Davis or any Southern statesman.

One of them, Floyd, the Secretary of War, scattered the army so that

much of it could be captured when hostilities should commence, and

distributed the cannon and small arms from Northern arsenals throughout

the South so as to be on hand when treason wanted them. The navy was

scattered in like manner. The President did not prevent his cabinet

preparing for war upon their government, either by destroying its

resources or storing them in the South until a de facto government was

established with Jefferson Davis as its President, and Montgomery,

Alabama, as the Capital. The secessionists had then to leave the

cabinet. In their own estimation they were aliens in the country which

had given them birth. Loyal men were put into their places. Treason in

the executive branch of the government was estopped. But the harm had

already been done. The stable door was locked after the horse had been

stolen.

During all of the trying winter of 1860-1, when the Southerners were so

defiant that they would not allow within their borders the expression of

a sentiment hostile to their views, it was a brave man indeed who could

stand up and proclaim his loyalty to the Union. On the other hand men

at the North--prominent men--proclaimed that the government had no power

to coerce the South into submission to the laws of the land; that if the

North undertook to raise armies to go south, these armies would have to

march over the dead bodies of the speakers. A portion of the press of

the North was constantly proclaiming similar views. When the time

arrived for the President-elect to go to the capital of the Nation to be

sworn into office, it was deemed unsafe for him to travel, not only as a

President-elect, but as any private citizen should be allowed to do.

Instead of going in a special car, receiving the good wishes of his

constituents at all the stations along the road, he was obliged to stop

on the way and to be smuggled into the capital. He disappeared from

public view on his journey, and the next the country knew, his arrival

was announced at the capital. There is little doubt that he would have

been assassinated if he had attempted to travel openly throughout his

journey.

CHAPTER XVII.

OUTBREAK OF THE REBELLION--PRESIDING AT A UNION MEETING--MUSTERING

OFFICER OF STATE TROOPS--LYON AT CAMP JACKSON--SERVICES TENDERED TO THE

GOVERNMENT.

The 4th of March, 1861, came, and Abraham Lincoln was sworn to maintain

the Union against all its enemies. The secession of one State after

another followed, until eleven had gone out. On the 11th of April Fort

Sumter, a National fort in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, was

fired upon by the Southerners and a few days after was captured. The

Confederates proclaimed themselves aliens, and thereby debarred

themselves of all right to claim protection under the Constitution of

the United States. We did not admit the fact that they were aliens, but

all the same, they debarred themselves of the right to expect better

treatment than people of any other foreign state who make war upon an

independent nation. Upon the firing on Sumter President Lincoln issued

his first call for troops and soon after a proclamation convening

Congress in extra session. The call was for 75,000 volunteers for

ninety days' service. If the shot fired at Fort Sumter "was heard

around the world," the call of the President for 75,000 men was heard

throughout the Northern States. There was not a state in the North of a

million of inhabitants that would not have furnished the entire number

faster than arms could have been supplied to them, if it had been

necessary.

As soon as the news of the call for volunteers reached Galena, posters

were stuck up calling for a meeting of the citizens at the court-house

in the evening. Business ceased entirely; all was excitement; for a

time there were no party distinctions; all were Union men, determined to

avenge the insult to the national flag. In the evening the court-house

was packed. Although a comparative stranger I was called upon to

preside; the sole reason, possibly, was that I had been in the army and

had seen service. With much embarrassment and some prompting I made out

to announce the object of the meeting. Speeches were in order, but it

is doubtful whether it would have been safe just then to make other than

patriotic ones. There was probably no one in the house, however, who

felt like making any other. The two principal speeches were by B. B.

Howard, the post-master and a Breckinridge Democrat at the November

election the fall before, and John A. Rawlins, an elector on the Douglas

ticket. E. B. Washburne, with whom I was not acquainted at that time,

came in after the meeting had been organized, and expressed, I

understood afterwards, a little surprise that Galena could not furnish a

presiding officer for such an occasion without taking a stranger. He

came forward and was introduced, and made a speech appealing to the

patriotism of the meeting.

After the speaking was over volunteers were called for to form a

company. The quota of Illinois had been fixed at six regiments; and it

was supposed that one company would be as much as would be accepted from

Galena. The company was raised and the officers and non-commissioned

officers elected before the meeting adjourned. I declined the captaincy

before the balloting, but announced that I would aid the company in

every way I could and would be found in the service in some position if

there should be a war. I never went into our leather store after that

meeting, to put up a package or do other business.

The ladies of Galena were quite as patriotic as the men. They could not

enlist, but they conceived the idea of sending their first company to

the field uniformed. They came to me to get a description of the United

States uniform for infantry; subscribed and bought the material;

procured tailors to cut out the garments, and the ladies made them up.

In a few days the company was in uniform and ready to report at the

State capital for assignment. The men all turned out the morning after

their enlistment, and I took charge, divided them into squads and

superintended their drill. When they were ready to go to Springfield I

went with them and remained there until they were assigned to a

regiment.

There were so many more volunteers than had been called for that the

question whom to accept was quite embarrassing to the governor, Richard

Yates. The legislature was in session at the time, however, and came to

his relief. A law was enacted authorizing the governor to accept the

services of ten additional regiments, one from each congressional

district, for one month, to be paid by the State, but pledged to go into

the service of the United States if there should be a further call

during their term. Even with this relief the governor was still very

much embarrassed. Before the war was over he was like the President

when he was taken with the varioloid: "at last he had something he

could give to all who wanted it."

In time the Galena company was mustered into the United States service,

forming a part of the 11th Illinois volunteer infantry. My duties, I

thought, had ended at Springfield, and I was prepared to start home by

the evening train, leaving at nine o'clock. Up to that time I do not

think I had been introduced to Governor Yates, or had ever spoken to

him. I knew him by sight, however, because he was living at the same

hotel and I often saw him at table. The evening I was to quit the

capital I left the supper room before the governor and was standing at

the front door when he came out. He spoke to me, calling me by my old

army title "Captain," and said he understood that I was about leaving

the city. I answered that I was. He said he would be glad if I would

remain over-night and call at the Executive office the next morning.

I complied with his request, and was asked to go into the

Adjutant-General's office and render such assistance as I could, the

governor saying that my army experience would be of great service there.

I accepted the proposition.

My old army experience I found indeed of very great service. I was no

clerk, nor had I any capacity to become one. The only place I ever

found in my life to put a paper so as to find it again was either a side

coat-pocket or the hands of a clerk or secretary more careful than

myself. But I had been quartermaster, commissary and adjutant in the

field. The army forms were familiar to me and I could direct how they

should be made out. There was a clerk in the office of the

Adjutant-General who supplied my deficiencies. The ease with which the

State of Illinois settled its accounts with the government at the close

of the war is evidence of the efficiency of Mr. Loomis as an accountant

on a large scale. He remained in the office until that time.

As I have stated, the legislature authorized the governor to accept the

services of ten additional regiments. I had charge of mustering these

regiments into the State service. They were assembled at the most

convenient railroad centres in their respective congressional districts.

I detailed officers to muster in a portion of them, but mustered three

in the southern part of the State myself. One of these was to assemble

at Belleville, some eighteen miles south-east of St. Louis. When I got

there I found that only one or two companies had arrived. There was no

probability of the regiment coming together under five days. This gave

me a few idle days which I concluded to spend in St. Louis.

There was a considerable force of State militia at Camp Jackson, on the

outskirts of St. Louis, at the time. There is but little doubt that it

was the design of Governor Claiborn Jackson to have these troops ready

to seize the United States arsenal and the city of St. Louis. Why they

did not do so I do not know. There was but a small garrison, two

companies I think, under Captain N. Lyon at the arsenal, and but for the

timely services of the Hon. F. P. Blair, I have little doubt that St.

Louis would have gone into rebel hands, and with it the arsenal with all

its arms and ammunition.

Blair was a leader among the Union men of St. Louis in 1861. There was

no State government in Missouri at the time that would sanction the

raising of troops or commissioned officers to protect United States

property, but Blair had probably procured some form of authority from

the President to raise troops in Missouri and to muster them into the

service of the United States. At all events, he did raise a regiment

and took command himself as Colonel. With this force he reported to

Captain Lyon and placed himself and regiment under his orders. It was

whispered that Lyon thus reinforced intended to break up Camp Jackson

and capture the militia. I went down to the arsenal in the morning to

see the troops start out. I had known Lyon for two years at West Point

and in the old army afterwards. Blair I knew very well by sight. I had

heard him speak in the canvass of 1858, possibly several times, but I

had never spoken to him. As the troops marched out of the enclosure

around the arsenal, Blair was on his horse outside forming them into

line preparatory to their march. I introduced myself to him and had a

few moments' conversation and expressed my sympathy with his purpose.

This was my first personal acquaintance with the Honorable--afterwards

Major-General F. P. Blair. Camp Jackson surrendered without a fight and

the garrison was marched down to the arsenal as prisoners of war.

Up to this time the enemies of the government in St. Louis had been bold

and defiant, while Union men were quiet but determined. The enemies had

their head-quarters in a central and public position on Pine Street,

near Fifth--from which the rebel flag was flaunted boldly. The Union

men had a place of meeting somewhere in the city, I did not know where,

and I doubt whether they dared to enrage the enemies of the government

by placing the national flag outside their head-quarters. As soon as

the news of the capture of Camp Jackson reached the city the condition

of affairs was changed. Union men became rampant, aggressive, and, if

you will, intolerant. They proclaimed their sentiments boldly, and were

impatient at anything like disrespect for the Union. The secessionists

became quiet but were filled with suppressed rage. They had been

playing the bully. The Union men ordered the rebel flag taken down from

the building on Pine Street. The command was given in tones of

authority and it was taken down, never to be raised again in St. Louis.

I witnessed the scene. I had heard of the surrender of the camp and

that the garrison was on its way to the arsenal. I had seen the troops

start out in the morning and had wished them success. I now determined

to go to the arsenal and await their arrival and congratulate them. I

stepped on a car standing at the corner of 4th and Pine streets, and saw

a crowd of people standing quietly in front of the head-quarters, who

were there for the purpose of hauling down the flag. There were squads

of other people at intervals down the street. They too were quiet but

filled with suppressed rage, and muttered their resentment at the insult

to, what they called, "their" flag. Before the car I was in had

started, a dapper little fellow--he would be called a dude at this day

--stepped in. He was in a great state of excitement and used adjectives

freely to express his contempt for the Union and for those who had just

perpetrated such an outrage upon the rights of a free people. There was

only one other passenger in the car besides myself when this young man

entered. He evidently expected to find nothing but sympathy when he got

away from the "mud sills" engaged in compelling a "free people" to pull

down a flag they adored. He turned to me saying: "Things have come to

a ---- pretty pass when a free people can't choose their own flag.

Where I came from if a man dares to say a word in favor of the Union we

hang him to a limb of the first tree we come to." I replied that "after

all we were not so intolerant in St. Louis as we might be; I had not

seen a single rebel hung yet, nor heard of one; there were plenty of

them who ought to be, however." The young man subsided. He was so

crestfallen that I believe if I had ordered him to leave the car he

would have gone quietly out, saying to himself: "More Yankee

oppression."

By nightfall the late defenders of Camp Jackson were all within the

walls of the St. Louis arsenal, prisoners of war. The next day I left

St. Louis for Mattoon, Illinois, where I was to muster in the regiment

from that congressional district. This was the 21st Illinois infantry,

the regiment of which I subsequently became colonel. I mustered one

regiment afterwards, when my services for the State were about closed.

Brigadier-General John Pope was stationed at Springfield, as United

States mustering officer, all the time I was in the State service. He

was a native of Illinois and well acquainted with most of the prominent

men in the State. I was a carpet-bagger and knew but few of them.

While I was on duty at Springfield the senators, representatives in

Congress, ex-governors and the State legislators were nearly all at the

State capital. The only acquaintance I made among them was with the

governor, whom I was serving, and, by chance, with Senator S. A.

Douglas. The only members of Congress I knew were Washburne and Philip

Foulk. With the former, though he represented my district and we were

citizens of the same town, I only became acquainted at the meeting when

the first company of Galena volunteers was raised. Foulk I had known in

St. Louis when I was a citizen of that city. I had been three years at

West Point with Pope and had served with him a short time during the

Mexican war, under General Taylor. I saw a good deal of him during my

service with the State. On one occasion he said to me that I ought to

go into the United States service. I told him I intended to do so if

there was a war. He spoke of his acquaintance with the public men of

the State, and said he could get them to recommend me for a position and

that he would do all he could for me. I declined to receive endorsement

for permission to fight for my country.

Going home for a day or two soon after this conversation with General

Pope, I wrote from Galena the following letter to the Adjutant-General

of the Army.

GALENA, ILLINOIS, May 24, 1861.

COL. L. THOMAS Adjt. Gen. U. S. A., Washington, D. C.

SIR:--Having served for fifteen years in the regular army, including

four years at West Point, and feeling it the duty of every one who has

been educated at the Government expense to offer their services for the

support of that Government, I have the honor, very respectfully, to

tender my services, until the close of the war, in such capacity as may

be offered. I would say, in view of my present age and length of

service, I feel myself competent to command a regiment, if the

President, in his judgment, should see fit to intrust one to me.

Since the first call of the President I have been serving on the staff

of the Governor of this State, rendering such aid as I could in the

organization of our State militia, and am still engaged in that

capacity. A letter addressed to me at Springfield, Illinois, will reach

me.

I am very respectfully, Your obt. svt., U. S. GRANT.

This letter failed to elicit an answer from the Adjutant-General of the

Army. I presume it was hardly read by him, and certainly it could not

have been submitted to higher authority. Subsequent to the war General

Badeau having heard of this letter applied to the War Department for a

copy of it. The letter could not be found and no one recollected ever

having seen it. I took no copy when it was written. Long after the

application of General Badeau, General Townsend, who had become

Adjutant-General of the Army, while packing up papers preparatory to the

removal of his office, found this letter in some out-of-the-way place.

It had not been destroyed, but it had not been regularly filed away.

I felt some hesitation in suggesting rank as high as the colonelcy of a

regiment, feeling somewhat doubtful whether I would be equal to the

position. But I had seen nearly every colonel who had been mustered in

from the State of Illinois, and some from Indiana, and felt that if they

could command a regiment properly, and with credit, I could also.

Having but little to do after the muster of the last of the regiments

authorized by the State legislature, I asked and obtained of the

governor leave of absence for a week to visit my parents in Covington,

Kentucky, immediately opposite Cincinnati. General McClellan had been

made a major-general and had his headquarters at Cincinnati. In reality

I wanted to see him. I had known him slightly at West Point, where we

served one year together, and in the Mexican war. I was in hopes that

when he saw me he would offer me a position on his staff. I called on

two successive days at his office but failed to see him on either

occasion, and returned to Springfield.

CHAPTER XVIII.

APPOINTED COLONEL OF THE 21ST ILLINOIS--PERSONNEL OF THE REGIMENT

--GENERAL LOGAN--MARCH TO MISSOURI--MOVEMENT AGAINST HARRIS AT FLORIDA,

MO.--GENERAL POPE IN COMMAND--STATIONED AT MEXICO, MO.

While I was absent from the State capital on this occasion the

President's second call for troops was issued. This time it was for

300,000 men, for three years or the war. This brought into the United

States service all the regiments then in the State service. These had

elected their officers from highest to lowest and were accepted with

their organizations as they were, except in two instances. A Chicago

regiment, the 19th infantry, had elected a very young man to the

colonelcy. When it came to taking the field the regiment asked to have

another appointed colonel and the one they had previously chosen made

lieutenant-colonel. The 21st regiment of infantry, mustered in by me at

Mattoon, refused to go into the service with the colonel of their

selection in any position. While I was still absent Governor Yates

appointed me colonel of this latter regiment. A few days after I was in

charge of it and in camp on the fair grounds near Springfield.

My regiment was composed in large part of young men of as good social

position as any in their section of the State. It embraced the sons of

farmers, lawyers, physicians, politicians, merchants, bankers and

ministers, and some men of maturer years who had filled such positions

themselves. There were also men in it who could be led astray; and the

colonel, elected by the votes of the regiment, had proved to be fully

capable of developing all there was in his men of recklessness. It was

said that he even went so far at times as to take the guard from their

posts and go with them to the village near by and make a night of it.

When there came a prospect of battle the regiment wanted to have some

one else to lead them. I found it very hard work for a few days to

bring all the men into anything like subordination; but the great

majority favored discipline, and by the application of a little regular

army punishment all were reduced to as good discipline as one could ask.

The ten regiments which had volunteered in the State service for thirty

days, it will be remembered, had done so with a pledge to go into the

National service if called upon within that time. When they volunteered

the government had only called for ninety days' enlistments. Men were

called now for three years or the war. They felt that this change of

period released them from the obligation of re-volunteering. When I was

appointed colonel, the 21st regiment was still in the State service.

About the time they were to be mustered into the United States service,

such of them as would go, two members of Congress from the State,

McClernand and Logan, appeared at the capital and I was introduced to

them. I had never seen either of them before, but I had read a great

deal about them, and particularly about Logan, in the newspapers. Both

were democratic members of Congress, and Logan had been elected from the

southern district of the State, where he had a majority of eighteen

thousand over his Republican competitor. His district had been settled

originally by people from the Southern States, and at the breaking out

of secession they sympathized with the South. At the first outbreak of

war some of them joined the Southern army; many others were preparing to

do so; others rode over the country at night denouncing the Union, and

made it as necessary to guard railroad bridges over which National

troops had to pass in southern Illinois, as it was in Kentucky or any of

the border slave states. Logan's popularity in this district was

unbounded. He knew almost enough of the people in it by their Christian

names, to form an ordinary congressional district. As he went in

politics, so his district was sure to go. The Republican papers had

been demanding that he should announce where he stood on the questions

which at that time engrossed the whole of public thought. Some were

very bitter in their denunciations of his silence. Logan was not a man

to be coerced into an utterance by threats. He did, however, come out

in a speech before the adjournment of the special session of Congress

which was convened by the President soon after his inauguration, and

announced his undying loyalty and devotion to the Union. But I had not

happened to see that speech, so that when I first met Logan my

impressions were those formed from reading denunciations of him.

McClernand, on the other hand, had early taken strong grounds for the

maintenance of the Union and had been praised accordingly by the

Republican papers. The gentlemen who presented these two members of

Congress asked me if I would have any objections to their addressing my

regiment. I hesitated a little before answering. It was but a few days

before the time set for mustering into the United States service such of

the men as were willing to volunteer for three years or the war. I had

some doubt as to the effect a speech from Logan might have; but as he

was with McClernand, whose sentiments on the all-absorbing questions of

the day were well known, I gave my consent. McClernand spoke first; and

Logan followed in a speech which he has hardly equalled since for force

and eloquence. It breathed a loyalty and devotion to the Union which

inspired my men to such a point that they would have volunteered to

remain in the army as long as an enemy of the country continued to bear

arms against it. They entered the United States service almost to a

man.

General Logan went to his part of the State and gave his attention to

raising troops. The very men who at first made it necessary to guard

the roads in southern Illinois became the defenders of the Union. Logan

entered the service himself as colonel of a regiment and rapidly rose to

the rank of major-general. His district, which had promised at first to

give much trouble to the government, filled every call made upon it for

troops, without resorting to the draft. There was no call made when

there were not more volunteers than were asked for. That congressional

district stands credited at the War Department to-day with furnishing

more men for the army than it was called on to supply.

I remained in Springfield with my regiment until the 3d of July, when I

was ordered to Quincy, Illinois. By that time the regiment was in a

good state of discipline and the officers and men were well up in the

company drill. There was direct railroad communication between

Springfield and Quincy, but I thought it would be good preparation for

the troops to march there. We had no transportation for our camp and

garrison equipage, so wagons were hired for the occasion and on the 3d

of July we started. There was no hurry, but fair marches were made

every day until the Illinois River was crossed. There I was overtaken

by a dispatch saying that the destination of the regiment had been

changed to Ironton, Missouri, and ordering me to halt where I was and

await the arrival of a steamer which had been dispatched up the Illinois

River to take the regiment to St. Louis. The boat, when it did come,

grounded on a sand-bar a few miles below where we were in camp. We

remained there several days waiting to have the boat get off the bar,

but before this occurred news came that an Illinois regiment was

surrounded by rebels at a point on the Hannibal and St. Joe Railroad

some miles west of Palmyra, in Missouri, and I was ordered to proceed

with all dispatch to their relief. We took the cars and reached Quincy

in a few hours.

When I left Galena for the last time to take command of the 21st

regiment I took with me my oldest son, Frederick D. Grant, then a lad of

eleven years of age. On receiving the order to take rail for Quincy I

wrote to Mrs. Grant, to relieve what I supposed would be her great

anxiety for one so young going into danger, that I would send Fred home

from Quincy by river. I received a prompt letter in reply decidedly

disapproving my proposition, and urging that the lad should be allowed

to accompany me. It came too late. Fred was already on his way up the

Mississippi bound for Dubuque, Iowa, from which place there was a

railroad to Galena.

My sensations as we approached what I supposed might be "a field of

battle" were anything but agreeable. I had been in all the engagements

in Mexico that it was possible for one person to be in; but not in

command. If some one else had been colonel and I had been

lieutenant-colonel I do not think I would have felt any trepidation.

Before we were prepared to cross the Mississippi River at Quincy my

anxiety was relieved; for the men of the besieged regiment came

straggling into town. I am inclined to think both sides got frightened

and ran away.

I took my regiment to Palmyra and remained there for a few days, until

relieved by the 19th Illinois infantry. From Palmyra I proceeded to

Salt River, the railroad bridge over which had been destroyed by the

enemy. Colonel John M. Palmer at that time commanded the 13th Illinois,

which was acting as a guard to workmen who were engaged in rebuilding

this bridge. Palmer was my senior and commanded the two regiments as

long as we remained together. The bridge was finished in about two

weeks, and I received orders to move against Colonel Thomas Harris, who

was said to be encamped at the little town of Florida, some twenty-five

miles south of where we then were.

At the time of which I now write we had no transportation and the

country about Salt River was sparsely settled, so that it took some days

to collect teams and drivers enough to move the camp and garrison

equipage of a regiment nearly a thousand strong, together with a week's

supply of provision and some ammunition. While preparations for the

move were going on I felt quite comfortable; but when we got on the road

and found every house deserted I was anything but easy. In the

twenty-five miles we had to march we did not see a person, old or young,

male or female, except two horsemen who were on a road that crossed

ours. As soon as they saw us they decamped as fast as their horses

could carry them. I kept my men in the ranks and forbade their entering

any of the deserted houses or taking anything from them. We halted at

night on the road and proceeded the next morning at an early hour.

Harris had been encamped in a creek bottom for the sake of being near

water. The hills on either side of the creek extend to a considerable

height, possibly more than a hundred feet. As we approached the brow of

the hill from which it was expected we could see Harris' camp, and

possibly find his men ready formed to meet us, my heart kept getting

higher and higher until it felt to me as though it was in my throat. I

would have given anything then to have been back in Illinois, but I had

not the moral courage to halt and consider what to do; I kept right on.

When we reached a point from which the valley below was in full view I

halted. The place where Harris had been encamped a few days before was

still there and the marks of a recent encampment were plainly visible,

but the troops were gone. My heart resumed its place. It occurred to

me at once that Harris had been as much afraid of me as I had been of

him. This was a view of the question I had never taken before; but it

was one I never forgot afterwards. From that event to the close of the

war, I never experienced trepidation upon confronting an enemy, though I

always felt more or less anxiety. I never forgot that he had as much

reason to fear my forces as I had his. The lesson was valuable.

Inquiries at the village of Florida divulged the fact that Colonel

Harris, learning of my intended movement, while my transportation was

being collected took time by the forelock and left Florida before I had

started from Salt River. He had increased the distance between us by

forty miles. The next day I started back to my old camp at Salt River

bridge. The citizens living on the line of our march had returned to

their houses after we passed, and finding everything in good order,

nothing carried away, they were at their front doors ready to greet us

now. They had evidently been led to believe that the National troops

carried death and devastation with them wherever they went.

In a short time after our return to Salt River bridge I was ordered with

my regiment to the town of Mexico. General Pope was then commanding the

district embracing all of the State of Missouri between the Mississippi

and Missouri rivers, with his headquarters in the village of Mexico. I

was assigned to the command of a sub-district embracing the troops in

the immediate neighborhood, some three regiments of infantry and a

section of artillery. There was one regiment encamped by the side of

mine. I assumed command of the whole and the first night sent the

commander of the other regiment the parole and countersign. Not wishing

to be outdone in courtesy, he immediately sent me the countersign for

his regiment for the night. When he was informed that the countersign

sent to him was for use with his regiment as well as mine, it was

difficult to make him understand that this was not an unwarranted

interference of one colonel over another. No doubt he attributed it for

the time to the presumption of a graduate of West Point over a volunteer

pure and simple. But the question was soon settled and we had no

further trouble.

My arrival in Mexico had been preceded by that of two or three regiments

in which proper discipline had not been maintained, and the men had been

in the habit of visiting houses without invitation and helping

themselves to food and drink, or demanding them from the occupants.

They carried their muskets while out of camp and made every man they

found take the oath of allegiance to the government. I at once

published orders prohibiting the soldiers from going into private houses

unless invited by the inhabitants, and from appropriating private

property to their own or to government uses. The people were no longer

molested or made afraid. I received the most marked courtesy from the

citizens of Mexico as long as I remained there.

Up to this time my regiment had not been carried in the school of the

soldier beyond the company drill, except that it had received some

training on the march from Springfield to the Illinois River. There was

now a good opportunity of exercising it in the battalion drill. While I

was at West Point the tactics used in the army had been Scott's and the

musket the flint lock. I had never looked at a copy of tactics from the

time of my graduation. My standing in that branch of studies had been

near the foot of the class. In the Mexican war in the summer of 1846, I

had been appointed regimental quartermaster and commissary and had not

been at a battalion drill since. The arms had been changed since then

and Hardee's tactics had been adopted. I got a copy of tactics and

studied one lesson, intending to confine the exercise of the first day

to the commands I had thus learned. By pursuing this course from day to

day I thought I would soon get through the volume.

We were encamped just outside of town on the common, among scattering

suburban houses with enclosed gardens, and when I got my regiment in

line and rode to the front I soon saw that if I attempted to follow the

lesson I had studied I would have to clear away some of the houses and

garden fences to make room. I perceived at once, however, that Hardee's

tactics--a mere translation from the French with Hardee's name attached

--was nothing more than common sense and the progress of the age applied

to Scott's system. The commands were abbreviated and the movement

expedited. Under the old tactics almost every change in the order of

march was preceded by a "halt," then came the change, and then the

"forward march." With the new tactics all these changes could be made

while in motion. I found no trouble in giving commands that would take

my regiment where I wanted it to go and carry it around all obstacles.

I do not believe that the officers of the regiment ever discovered that

I had never studied the tactics that I used.

CHAPTER XIX.

COMMISSIONED BRIGADIER-GENERAL--COMMAND AT IRONTON, MO.--JEFFERSON CITY

--CAPE GIRARDEAU--GENERAL PRENTISS--SEIZURE OF PADUCAH--HEADQUARTERS AT

CAIRO.

I had not been in Mexico many weeks when, reading a St. Louis paper,

I found the President had asked the Illinois delegation in Congress

to recommend some citizens of the State for the position of

brigadier-general, and that they had unanimously recommended me as first

on a list of seven. I was very much surprised because, as I have said,

my acquaintance with the Congressmen was very limited and I did not know

of anything I had done to inspire such confidence. The papers of the

next day announced that my name, with three others, had been sent to the

Senate, and a few days after our confirmation was announced.

When appointed brigadier-general I at once thought it proper that one of

my aides should come from the regiment I had been commanding, and so

selected Lieutenant C. B. Lagow. While living in St. Louis, I had had a

desk in the law office of McClellan, Moody and Hillyer. Difference in

views between the members of the firm on the questions of the day, and

general hard times in the border cities, had broken up this firm.

Hillyer was quite a young man, then in his twenties, and very brilliant.

I asked him to accept a place on my staff. I also wanted to take one

man from my new home, Galena. The canvass in the Presidential campaign

the fall before had brought out a young lawyer by the name of John A.

Rawlins, who proved himself one of the ablest speakers in the State. He

was also a candidate for elector on the Douglas ticket. When Sumter was

fired upon and the integrity of the Union threatened, there was no man

more ready to serve his country than he. I wrote at once asking him to

accept the position of assistant adjutant-general with the rank of

captain, on my staff. He was about entering the service as major of a

new regiment then organizing in the north-western part of the State; but

he threw this up and accepted my offer.

Neither Hillyer nor Lagow proved to have any particular taste or special

qualifications for the duties of the soldier, and the former resigned

during the Vicksburg campaign; the latter I relieved after the battle of

Chattanooga. Rawlins remained with me as long as he lived, and rose to

the rank of brigadier general and chief-of-staff to the General of the

Army--an office created for him--before the war closed. He was an able

man, possessed of great firmness, and could say "no" so emphatically to

a request which he thought should not be granted that the person he was

addressing would understand at once that there was no use of pressing

the matter. General Rawlins was a very useful officer in other ways

than this. I became very much attached to him.

Shortly after my promotion I was ordered to Ironton, Missouri, to

command a district in that part of the State, and took the 21st

Illinois, my old regiment, with me. Several other regiments were

ordered to the same destination about the same time. Ironton is on the

Iron Mountain railroad, about seventy miles south of St. Louis, and

situated among hills rising almost to the dignity of mountains. When I

reached there, about the 8th of August, Colonel B. Gratz Brown

--afterwards Governor of Missouri and in 1872 Vice-Presidential candidate

--was in command. Some of his troops were ninety days' men and their

time had expired some time before. The men had no clothing but what

they had volunteered in, and much of this was so worn that it would

hardly stay on. General Hardee--the author of the tactics I did not

study--was at Greenville some twenty-five miles further south, it was

said, with five thousand Confederate troops. Under these circumstances

Colonel Brown's command was very much demoralized. A squadron of

cavalry could have ridden into the valley and captured the entire force.

Brown himself was gladder to see me on that occasion than he ever has

been since. I relieved him and sent all his men home within a day or

two, to be mustered out of service.

Within ten days after reaching Ironton I was prepared to take the

offensive against the enemy at Greenville. I sent a column east out of

the valley we were in, with orders to swing around to the south and west

and come into the Greenville road ten miles south of Ironton. Another

column marched on the direct road and went into camp at the point

designated for the two columns to meet. I was to ride out the next

morning and take personal command of the movement. My experience

against Harris, in northern Missouri, had inspired me with confidence.

But when the evening train came in, it brought General B. M. Prentiss

with orders to take command of the district. His orders did not relieve

me, but I knew that by law I was senior, and at that time even the

President did not have the authority to assign a junior to command a

senior of the same grade. I therefore gave General Prentiss the

situation of the troops and the general condition of affairs, and

started for St. Louis the same day. The movement against the rebels at

Greenville went no further.

From St. Louis I was ordered to Jefferson City, the capital of the

State, to take command. General Sterling Price, of the Confederate

army, was thought to be threatening the capital, Lexington, Chillicothe

and other comparatively large towns in the central part of Missouri. I

found a good many troops in Jefferson City, but in the greatest

confusion, and no one person knew where they all were. Colonel

Mulligan, a gallant man, was in command, but he had not been educated as

yet to his new profession and did not know how to maintain discipline.

I found that volunteers had obtained permission from the department

commander, or claimed they had, to raise, some of them, regiments; some

battalions; some companies--the officers to be commissioned according to

the number of men they brought into the service. There were recruiting

stations all over town, with notices, rudely lettered on boards over the

doors, announcing the arm of service and length of time for which

recruits at that station would be received. The law required all

volunteers to serve for three years or the war. But in Jefferson City

in August, 1861, they were recruited for different periods and on

different conditions; some were enlisted for six months, some for a

year, some without any condition as to where they were to serve, others

were not to be sent out of the State. The recruits were principally men

from regiments stationed there and already in the service, bound for

three years if the war lasted that long.

The city was filled with Union fugitives who had been driven by guerilla

bands to take refuge with the National troops. They were in a

deplorable condition and must have starved but for the support the

government gave them. They had generally made their escape with a team

or two, sometimes a yoke of oxen with a mule or a horse in the lead. A

little bedding besides their clothing and some food had been thrown into

the wagon. All else of their worldly goods were abandoned and

appropriated by their former neighbors; for the Union man in Missouri

who staid at home during the rebellion, if he was not immediately under

the protection of the National troops, was at perpetual war with his

neighbors. I stopped the recruiting service, and disposed the troops

about the outskirts of the city so as to guard all approaches. Order

was soon restored.

I had been at Jefferson City but a few days when I was directed from

department headquarters to fit out an expedition to Lexington,

Booneville and Chillicothe, in order to take from the banks in those

cities all the funds they had and send them to St. Louis. The western

army had not yet been supplied with transportation. It became necessary

therefore to press into the service teams belonging to sympathizers with

the rebellion or to hire those of Union men. This afforded an

opportunity of giving employment to such of the refugees within our

lines as had teams suitable for our purposes. They accepted the service

with alacrity. As fast as troops could be got off they were moved west

some twenty miles or more. In seven or eight days from my assuming

command at Jefferson City, I had all the troops, except a small

garrison, at an advanced position and expected to join them myself the

next day.

But my campaigns had not yet begun, for while seated at my office door,

with nothing further to do until it was time to start for the front, I

saw an officer of rank approaching, who proved to be Colonel Jefferson

C. Davis. I had never met him before, but he introduced himself by

handing me an order for him to proceed to Jefferson City and relieve me

of the command. The orders directed that I should report at department

headquarters at St. Louis without delay, to receive important special

instructions. It was about an hour before the only regular train of the

day would start. I therefore turned over to Colonel Davis my orders,

and hurriedly stated to him the progress that had been made to carry out

the department instructions already described. I had at that time but

one staff officer, doing myself all the detail work usually performed by

an adjutant-general. In an hour after being relieved from the command I

was on my way to St. Louis, leaving my single staff officer(*6) to

follow the next day with our horses and baggage.

The "important special instructions" which I received the next day,

assigned me to the command of the district of south-east Missouri,

embracing all the territory south of St. Louis, in Missouri, as well as

all southern Illinois. At first I was to take personal command of a

combined expedition that had been ordered for the capture of Colonel

Jeff. Thompson, a sort of independent or partisan commander who was

disputing with us the possession of south-east Missouri. Troops had

been ordered to move from Ironton to Cape Girardeau, sixty or seventy

miles to the south-east, on the Mississippi River; while the forces at

Cape Girardeau had been ordered to move to Jacksonville, ten miles out

towards Ironton; and troops at Cairo and Bird's Point, at the junction

of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, were to hold themselves in readiness

to go down the Mississippi to Belmont, eighteen miles below, to be moved

west from there when an officer should come to command them. I was the

officer who had been selected for this purpose. Cairo was to become my

headquarters when the expedition terminated.

In pursuance of my orders I established my temporary headquarters at

Cape Girardeau and sent instructions to the commanding officer at

Jackson, to inform me of the approach of General Prentiss from Ironton.

Hired wagons were kept moving night and day to take additional rations

to Jackson, to supply the troops when they started from there. Neither

General Prentiss nor Colonel Marsh, who commanded at Jackson, knew their

destination. I drew up all the instructions for the contemplated move,

and kept them in my pocket until I should hear of the junction of our

troops at Jackson. Two or three days after my arrival at Cape

Girardeau, word came that General Prentiss was approaching that place

(Jackson). I started at once to meet him there and to give him his

orders. As I turned the first corner of a street after starting, I saw

a column of cavalry passing the next street in front of me. I turned

and rode around the block the other way, so as to meet the head of the

column. I found there General Prentiss himself, with a large escort.

He had halted his troops at Jackson for the night, and had come on

himself to Cape Girardeau, leaving orders for his command to follow him

in the morning. I gave the General his orders--which stopped him at

Jackson--but he was very much aggrieved at being placed under another

brigadier-general, particularly as he believed himself to be the senior.

He had been a brigadier, in command at Cairo, while I was mustering

officer at Springfield without any rank. But we were nominated at the

same time for the United States service, and both our commissions bore

date May 17th, 1861. By virtue of my former army rank I was, by law,

the senior. General Prentiss failed to get orders to his troops to

remain at Jackson, and the next morning early they were reported as

approaching Cape Girardeau. I then ordered the General very

peremptorily to countermarch his command and take it back to Jackson.

He obeyed the order, but bade his command adieu when he got them to

Jackson, and went to St. Louis and reported himself. This broke up the

expedition. But little harm was done, as Jeff. Thompson moved light and

had no fixed place for even nominal headquarters. He was as much at

home in Arkansas as he was in Missouri and would keep out of the way of

a superior force. Prentiss was sent to another part of the State.

General Prentiss made a great mistake on the above occasion, one that he

would not have committed later in the war. When I came to know him

better, I regretted it much. In consequence of this occurrence he was

off duty in the field when the principal campaign at the West was going

on, and his juniors received promotion while he was where none could be

obtained. He would have been next to myself in rank in the district of

south-east Missouri, by virtue of his services in the Mexican war. He

was a brave and very earnest soldier. No man in the service was more

sincere in his devotion to the cause for which we were battling; none

more ready to make sacrifices or risk life in it.

On the 4th of September I removed my headquarters to Cairo and found

Colonel Richard Oglesby in command of the post. We had never met, at

least not to my knowledge. After my promotion I had ordered my

brigadier-general's uniform from New York, but it had not yet arrived,

so that I was in citizen's dress. The Colonel had his office full of

people, mostly from the neighboring States of Missouri and Kentucky,

making complaints or asking favors. He evidently did not catch my name

when I was presented, for on my taking a piece of paper from the table

where he was seated and writing the order assuming command of the

district of south-east Missouri, Colonel Richard J. Oglesby to command

the post at Bird's Point, and handing it to him, he put on an expression

of surprise that looked a little as if he would like to have some one

identify me. But he surrendered the office without question.

The day after I assumed command at Cairo a man came to me who said he

was a scout of General Fremont. He reported that he had just come from

Columbus, a point on the Mississippi twenty miles below on the Kentucky

side, and that troops had started from there, or were about to start, to

seize Paducah, at the mouth of the Tennessee. There was no time for

delay; I reported by telegraph to the department commander the

information I had received, and added that I was taking steps to get off

that night to be in advance of the enemy in securing that important

point. There was a large number of steamers lying at Cairo and a good

many boatmen were staying in the town. It was the work of only a few

hours to get the boats manned, with coal aboard and steam up. Troops

were also designated to go aboard. The distance from Cairo to Paducah

is about forty-five miles. I did not wish to get there before daylight

of the 6th, and directed therefore that the boats should lie at anchor

out in the stream until the time to start. Not having received an

answer to my first dispatch, I again telegraphed to department

headquarters that I should start for Paducah that night unless I

received further orders. Hearing nothing, we started before midnight

and arrived early the following morning, anticipating the enemy by

probably not over six or eight hours. It proved very fortunate that the

expedition against Jeff. Thompson had been broken up. Had it not been,

the enemy would have seized Paducah and fortified it, to our very great

annoyance.

When the National troops entered the town the citizens were taken by

surprise. I never after saw such consternation depicted on the faces of

the people. Men, women and children came out of their doors looking

pale and frightened at the presence of the invader. They were expecting

rebel troops that day. In fact, nearly four thousand men from Columbus

were at that time within ten or fifteen miles of Paducah on their way to

occupy the place. I had but two regiments and one battery with me, but

the enemy did not know this and returned to Columbus. I stationed my

troops at the best points to guard the roads leading into the city, left

gunboats to guard the river fronts and by noon was ready to start on my

return to Cairo. Before leaving, however, I addressed a short printed

proclamation to the citizens of Paducah assuring them of our peaceful

intentions, that we had come among them to protect them against the

enemies of our country, and that all who chose could continue their

usual avocations with assurance of the protection of the government.

This was evidently a relief to them; but the majority would have much

preferred the presence of the other army. I reinforced Paducah rapidly

from the troops at Cape Girardeau; and a day or two later General C. F.

Smith, a most accomplished soldier, reported at Cairo and was assigned

to the command of the post at the mouth of the Tennessee. In a short

time it was well fortified and a detachment was sent to occupy

Smithland, at the mouth of the Cumberland.

The State government of Kentucky at that time was rebel in sentiment,

but wanted to preserve an armed neutrality between the North and the

South, and the governor really seemed to think the State had a perfect

right to maintain a neutral position. The rebels already occupied two

towns in the State, Columbus and Hickman, on the Mississippi; and at the

very moment the National troops were entering Paducah from the Ohio

front, General Lloyd Tilghman--a Confederate--with his staff and a small

detachment of men, were getting out in the other direction, while, as I

have already said, nearly four thousand Confederate troops were on

Kentucky soil on their way to take possession of the town. But, in the

estimation of the governor and of those who thought with him, this did

not justify the National authorities in invading the soil of Kentucky.

I informed the legislature of the State of what I was doing, and my

action was approved by the majority of that body. On my return to Cairo

I found authority from department headquarters for me to take Paducah

"if I felt strong enough," but very soon after I was reprimanded from

the same quarters for my correspondence with the legislature and warned

against a repetition of the offence.

Soon after I took command at Cairo, General Fremont entered into

arrangements for the exchange of the prisoners captured at Camp Jackson

in the month of May. I received orders to pass them through my lines to

Columbus as they presented themselves with proper credentials. Quite a

number of these prisoners I had been personally acquainted with before

the war. Such of them as I had so known were received at my

headquarters as old acquaintances, and ordinary routine business was not

disturbed by their presence. On one occasion when several were present

in my office my intention to visit Cape Girardeau the next day, to

inspect the troops at that point, was mentioned. Something transpired

which postponed my trip; but a steamer employed by the government was

passing a point some twenty or more miles above Cairo, the next day,

when a section of rebel artillery with proper escort brought her to. A

major, one of those who had been at my headquarters the day before, came

at once aboard and after some search made a direct demand for my

delivery. It was hard to persuade him that I was not there. This

officer was Major Barrett, of St. Louis. I had been acquainted with his

family before the war.

CHAPTER XX.

GENERAL FREMONT IN COMMAND--MOVEMENT AGAINST BELMONT--BATTLE OF BELMONT

--A NARROW ESCAPE--AFTER THE BATTLE.

From the occupation of Paducah up to the early part of November nothing

important occurred with the troops under my command. I was reinforced

from time to time and the men were drilled and disciplined preparatory

for the service which was sure to come. By the 1st of November I had

not fewer than 20,000 men, most of them under good drill and ready to

meet any equal body of men who, like themselves, had not yet been in an

engagement. They were growing impatient at lying idle so long, almost

in hearing of the guns of the enemy they had volunteered to fight

against. I asked on one or two occasions to be allowed to move against

Columbus. It could have been taken soon after the occupation of

Paducah; but before November it was so strongly fortified that it would

have required a large force and a long siege to capture it.

In the latter part of October General Fremont took the field in person

and moved from Jefferson City against General Sterling Price, who was

then in the State of Missouri with a considerable command. About the

first of November I was directed from department headquarters to make a

demonstration on both sides of the Mississippi River with the view of

detaining the rebels at Columbus within their lines. Before my troops

could be got off, I was notified from the same quarter that there were

some 3,000 of the enemy on the St. Francis River about fifty miles west,

or south-west, from Cairo, and was ordered to send another force against

them. I dispatched Colonel Oglesby at once with troops sufficient to

compete with the reported number of the enemy. On the 5th word came

from the same source that the rebels were about to detach a large force

from Columbus to be moved by boats down the Mississippi and up the White

River, in Arkansas, in order to reinforce Price, and I was directed to

prevent this movement if possible. I accordingly sent a regiment from

Bird's Point under Colonel W. H. L. Wallace to overtake and reinforce

Oglesby, with orders to march to New Madrid, a point some distance below

Columbus, on the Missouri side. At the same time I directed General C.

F. Smith to move all the troops he could spare from Paducah directly

against Columbus, halting them, however, a few miles from the town to

await further orders from me. Then I gathered up all the troops at

Cairo and Fort Holt, except suitable guards, and moved them down the

river on steamers convoyed by two gunboats, accompanying them myself.

My force consisted of a little over 3,000 men and embraced five

regiments of infantry, two guns and two companies of cavalry. We

dropped down the river on the 6th to within about six miles of Columbus,

debarked a few men on the Kentucky side and established pickets to

connect with the troops from Paducah.

I had no orders which contemplated an attack by the National troops, nor

did I intend anything of the kind when I started out from Cairo; but

after we started I saw that the officers and men were elated at the

prospect of at last having the opportunity of doing what they had

volunteered to do--fight the enemies of their country. I did not see

how I could maintain discipline, or retain the confidence of my command,

if we should return to Cairo without an effort to do something.

Columbus, besides being strongly fortified, contained a garrison much

more numerous than the force I had with me. It would not do, therefore,

to attack that point. About two o'clock on the morning of the 7th, I

learned that the enemy was crossing troops from Columbus to the west

bank to be dispatched, presumably, after Oglesby. I knew there was a

small camp of Confederates at Belmont, immediately opposite Columbus,

and I speedily resolved to push down the river, land on the Missouri

side, capture Belmont, break up the camp and return. Accordingly, the

pickets above Columbus were drawn in at once, and about daylight the

boats moved out from shore. In an hour we were debarking on the west

bank of the Mississippi, just out of range of the batteries at Columbus.

The ground on the west shore of the river, opposite Columbus, is low and

in places marshy and cut up with sloughs. The soil is rich and the

timber large and heavy. There were some small clearings between Belmont

and the point where we landed, but most of the country was covered with

the native forests. We landed in front of a cornfield. When the

debarkation commenced, I took a regiment down the river to post it as a

guard against surprise. At that time I had no staff officer who could

be trusted with that duty. In the woods, at a short distance below the

clearing, I found a depression, dry at the time, but which at high water

became a slough or bayou. I placed the men in the hollow, gave them

their instructions and ordered them to remain there until they were

properly relieved. These troops, with the gunboats, were to protect our

transports.

Up to this time the enemy had evidently failed to divine our intentions.

From Columbus they could, of course, see our gunboats and transports

loaded with troops. But the force from Paducah was threatening them

from the land side, and it was hardly to be expected that if Columbus

was our object we would separate our troops by a wide river. They

doubtless thought we meant to draw a large force from the east bank,

then embark ourselves, land on the east bank and make a sudden assault

on Columbus before their divided command could be united.

About eight o'clock we started from the point of debarkation, marching

by the flank. After moving in this way for a mile or a mile and a half,

I halted where there was marshy ground covered with a heavy growth of

timber in our front, and deployed a large part of my force as

skirmishers. By this time the enemy discovered that we were moving upon

Belmont and sent out troops to meet us. Soon after we had started in

line, his skirmishers were encountered and fighting commenced. This

continued, growing fiercer and fiercer, for about four hours, the enemy

being forced back gradually until he was driven into his camp. Early in

this engagement my horse was shot under me, but I got another from one

of my staff and kept well up with the advance until the river was

reached.

The officers and men engaged at Belmont were then under fire for the

first time. Veterans could not have behaved better than they did up to

the moment of reaching the rebel camp. At this point they became

demoralized from their victory and failed to reap its full reward. The

enemy had been followed so closely that when he reached the clear ground

on which his camp was pitched he beat a hasty retreat over the river

bank, which protected him from our shots and from view. This

precipitate retreat at the last moment enabled the National forces to

pick their way without hinderance through the abatis--the only

artificial defence the enemy had. The moment the camp was reached our

men laid down their arms and commenced rummaging the tents to pick up

trophies. Some of the higher officers were little better than the

privates. They galloped about from one cluster of men to another and at

every halt delivered a short eulogy upon the Union cause and the

achievements of the command.

All this time the troops we had been engaged with for four hours, lay

crouched under cover of the river bank, ready to come up and surrender

if summoned to do so; but finding that they were not pursued, they

worked their way up the river and came up on the bank between us and our

transports. I saw at the same time two steamers coming from the

Columbus side towards the west shore, above us, black--or gray--with

soldiers from boiler-deck to roof. Some of my men were engaged in

firing from captured guns at empty steamers down the river, out of

range, cheering at every shot. I tried to get them to turn their guns

upon the loaded steamers above and not so far away. My efforts were in

vain. At last I directed my staff officers to set fire to the camps.

This drew the fire of the enemy's guns located on the heights of

Columbus. They had abstained from firing before, probably because they

were afraid of hitting their own men; or they may have supposed, until

the camp was on fire, that it was still in the possession of their

friends. About this time, too, the men we had driven over the bank were

seen in line up the river between us and our transports. The alarm

"surrounded" was given. The guns of the enemy and the report of being

surrounded, brought officers and men completely under control. At first

some of the officers seemed to think that to be surrounded was to be

placed in a hopeless position, where there was nothing to do but

surrender. But when I announced that we had cut our way in and could

cut our way out just as well, it seemed a new revelation to officers and

soldiers. They formed line rapidly and we started back to our boats,

with the men deployed as skirmishers as they had been on entering camp.

The enemy was soon encountered, but his resistance this time was feeble.

Again the Confederates sought shelter under the river banks. We could

not stop, however, to pick them up, because the troops we had seen

crossing the river had debarked by this time and were nearer our

transports than we were. It would be prudent to get them behind us; but

we were not again molested on our way to the boats.

From the beginning of the fighting our wounded had been carried to the

houses at the rear, near the place of debarkation. I now set the troops

to bringing their wounded to the boats. After this had gone on for some

little time I rode down the road, without even a staff officer, to visit

the guard I had stationed over the approach to our transports. I knew

the enemy had crossed over from Columbus in considerable numbers and

might be expected to attack us as we were embarking. This guard would

be encountered first and, as they were in a natural intrenchment, would

be able to hold the enemy for a considerable time. My surprise was

great to find there was not a single man in the trench. Riding back to

the boat I found the officer who had commanded the guard and learned

that he had withdrawn his force when the main body fell back. At first

I ordered the guard to return, but finding that it would take some time

to get the men together and march them back to their position, I

countermanded the order. Then fearing that the enemy we had seen

crossing the river below might be coming upon us unawares, I rode out in

the field to our front, still entirely alone, to observe whether the

enemy was passing. The field was grown up with corn so tall and thick

as to cut off the view of even a person on horseback, except directly

along the rows. Even in that direction, owing to the overhanging blades

of corn, the view was not extensive. I had not gone more than a few

hundred yards when I saw a body of troops marching past me not fifty

yards away. I looked at them for a moment and then turned my horse

towards the river and started back, first in a walk, and when I thought

myself concealed from the view of the enemy, as fast as my horse could

carry me. When at the river bank I still had to ride a few hundred

yards to the point where the nearest transport lay.

The cornfield in front of our transports terminated at the edge of a

dense forest. Before I got back the enemy had entered this forest and

had opened a brisk fire upon the boats. Our men, with the exception of

details that had gone to the front after the wounded, were now either

aboard the transports or very near them. Those who were not aboard soon

got there, and the boats pushed off. I was the only man of the National

army between the rebels and our transports. The captain of a boat that

had just pushed out but had not started, recognized me and ordered the

engineer not to start the engine; he then had a plank run out for me.

My horse seemed to take in the situation. There was no path down the

bank and every one acquainted with the Mississippi River knows that its

banks, in a natural state, do not vary at any great angle from the

perpendicular. My horse put his fore feet over the bank without

hesitation or urging, and with his hind feet well under him, slid down

the bank and trotted aboard the boat, twelve or fifteen feet away, over

a single gang plank. I dismounted and went at once to the upper deck.

The Mississippi River was low on the 7th of November, 1861, so that the

banks were higher than the heads of men standing on the upper decks of

the steamers. The rebels were some distance back from the river, so

that their fire was high and did us but little harm. Our smoke-stack

was riddled with bullets, but there were only three men wounded on the

boats, two of whom were soldiers. When I first went on deck I entered

the captain's room adjoining the pilot-house, and threw myself on a

sofa. I did not keep that position a moment, but rose to go out on the

deck to observe what was going on. I had scarcely left when a musket

ball entered the room, struck the head of the sofa, passed through it

and lodged in the foot.

When the enemy opened fire on the transports our gunboats returned it

with vigor. They were well out in the stream and some distance down, so

that they had to give but very little elevation to their guns to clear

the banks of the river. Their position very nearly enfiladed the line

of the enemy while he was marching through the cornfield. The execution

was very great, as we could see at the time and as I afterwards learned

more positively. We were very soon out of range and went peacefully on

our way to Cairo, every man feeling that Belmont was a great victory and

that he had contributed his share to it.

Our loss at Belmont was 485 in killed, wounded and missing. About 125 of

our wounded fell into the hands of the enemy. We returned with 175

prisoners and two guns, and spiked four other pieces. The loss of the

enemy, as officially reported, was 642 men, killed, wounded and missing.

We had engaged about 2,500 men, exclusive of the guard left with the

transports. The enemy had about 7,000; but this includes the troops

brought over from Columbus who were not engaged in the first defence of

Belmont.

The two objects for which the battle of Belmont was fought were fully

accomplished. The enemy gave up all idea of detaching troops from

Columbus. His losses were very heavy for that period of the war.

Columbus was beset by people looking for their wounded or dead kin, to

take them home for medical treatment or burial. I learned later, when I

had moved further south, that Belmont had caused more mourning than

almost any other battle up to that time. The National troops acquired a

confidence in themselves at Belmont that did not desert them through the

war.

The day after the battle I met some officers from General Polk's

command, arranged for permission to bury our dead at Belmont and also

commenced negotiations for the exchange of prisoners. When our men went

to bury their dead, before they were allowed to land they were conducted

below the point where the enemy had engaged our transports. Some of the

officers expressed a desire to see the field; but the request was

refused with the statement that we had no dead there.

While on the truce-boat I mentioned to an officer, whom I had known both

at West Point and in the Mexican war, that I was in the cornfield near

their troops when they passed; that I had been on horseback and had worn

a soldier's overcoat at the time. This officer was on General Polk's

staff. He said both he and the general had seen me and that Polk had

said to his men, "There is a Yankee; you may try your marksmanship on

him if you wish," but nobody fired at me.

Belmont was severely criticised in the North as a wholly unnecessary

battle, barren of results, or the possibility of them from the

beginning. If it had not been fought, Colonel Oglesby would probably

have been captured or destroyed with his three thousand men. Then I

should have been culpable indeed.

CHAPTER XXI.

GENERAL HALLECK IN COMMAND--COMMANDING THE DISTRICT OF CAIRO--MOVEMENT

ON FORT HENRY--CAPTURE OF FORT HENRY.

While at Cairo I had frequent opportunities of meeting the rebel

officers of the Columbus garrison. They seemed to be very fond of

coming up on steamers under flags of truce. On two or three occasions I

went down in like manner. When one of their boats was seen coming up

carrying a white flag, a gun would be fired from the lower battery at

Fort Holt, throwing a shot across the bow as a signal to come no

farther. I would then take a steamer and, with my staff and

occasionally a few other officers, go down to receive the party. There

were several officers among them whom I had known before, both at West

Point and in Mexico. Seeing these officers who had been educated for the

profession of arms, both at school and in actual war, which is a far

more efficient training, impressed me with the great advantage the South

possessed over the North at the beginning of the rebellion. They had

from thirty to forty per cent. of the educated soldiers of the Nation.

They had no standing army and, consequently, these trained soldiers had

to find employment with the troops from their own States. In this way

what there was of military education and training was distributed

throughout their whole army. The whole loaf was leavened.

The North had a great number of educated and trained soldiers, but the

bulk of them were still in the army and were retained, generally with

their old commands and rank, until the war had lasted many months. In

the Army of the Potomac there was what was known as the "regular

brigade," in which, from the commanding officer down to the youngest

second lieutenant, every one was educated to his profession. So, too,

with many of the batteries; all the officers, generally four in number

to each, were men educated for their profession. Some of these went

into battle at the beginning under division commanders who were entirely

without military training. This state of affairs gave me an idea which

I expressed while at Cairo; that the government ought to disband the

regular army, with the exception of the staff corps, and notify the

disbanded officers that they would receive no compensation while the war

lasted except as volunteers. The register should be kept up, but the

names of all officers who were not in the volunteer service at the

close, should be stricken from it.

On the 9th of November, two days after the battle of Belmont,

Major-General H. W. Halleck superseded General Fremont in command of the

Department of the Missouri. The limits of his command took in Arkansas

and west Kentucky east to the Cumberland River. From the battle of

Belmont until early in February, 1862, the troops under my command did

little except prepare for the long struggle which proved to be before

them.

The enemy at this time occupied a line running from the Mississippi

River at Columbus to Bowling Green and Mill Springs, Kentucky. Each of

these positions was strongly fortified, as were also points on the

Tennessee and Cumberland rivers near the Tennessee state line. The

works on the Tennessee were called Fort Heiman and Fort Henry, and that

on the Cumberland was Fort Donelson. At these points the two rivers

approached within eleven miles of each other. The lines of rifle pits

at each place extended back from the water at least two miles, so that

the garrisons were in reality only seven miles apart. These positions

were of immense importance to the enemy; and of course correspondingly

important for us to possess ourselves of. With Fort Henry in our hands

we had a navigable stream open to us up to Muscle Shoals, in Alabama.

The Memphis and Charleston Railroad strikes the Tennessee at Eastport,

Mississippi, and follows close to the banks of the river up to the

shoals. This road, of vast importance to the enemy, would cease to be

of use to them for through traffic the moment Fort Henry became ours.

Fort Donelson was the gate to Nashville--a place of great military and

political importance--and to a rich country extending far east in

Kentucky. These two points in our possession the enemy would

necessarily be thrown back to the Memphis and Charleston road, or to the

boundary of the cotton states, and, as before stated, that road would be

lost to them for through communication.

The designation of my command had been changed after Halleck's arrival,

from the District of South-east Missouri to the District of Cairo, and

the small district commanded by General C. F. Smith, embracing the

mouths of the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers, had been added to my

jurisdiction. Early in January, 1862, I was directed by General

McClellan, through my department commander, to make a reconnoissance in

favor of Brigadier-General Don Carlos Buell, who commanded the

Department of the Ohio, with headquarters at Louisville, and who was

confronting General S. B. Buckner with a larger Confederate force at

Bowling Green. It was supposed that Buell was about to make some move

against the enemy, and my demonstration was intended to prevent the

sending of troops from Columbus, Fort Henry or Donelson to Buckner. I

at once ordered General Smith to send a force up the west bank of the

Tennessee to threaten forts Heiman and Henry; McClernand at the same

time with a force of 6,000 men was sent out into west Kentucky,

threatening Columbus with one column and the Tennessee River with

another. I went with McClernand's command. The weather was very bad;

snow and rain fell; the roads, never good in that section, were

intolerable. We were out more than a week splashing through the mud,

snow and rain, the men suffering very much. The object of the

expedition was accomplished. The enemy did not send reinforcements to

Bowling Green, and General George H. Thomas fought and won the battle of

Mill Springs before we returned.

As a result of this expedition General Smith reported that he thought it

practicable to capture Fort Heiman. This fort stood on high ground,

completely commanding Fort Henry on the opposite side of the river, and

its possession by us, with the aid of our gunboats, would insure the

capture of Fort Henry. This report of Smith's confirmed views I had

previously held, that the true line of operations for us was up the

Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. With us there, the enemy would be

compelled to fall back on the east and west entirely out of the State of

Kentucky. On the 6th of January, before receiving orders for this

expedition, I had asked permission of the general commanding the

department to go to see him at St. Louis. My object was to lay this

plan of campaign before him. Now that my views had been confirmed by so

able a general as Smith, I renewed my request to go to St. Louis on what

I deemed important military business. The leave was granted, but not

graciously. I had known General Halleck but very slightly in the old

army, not having met him either at West Point or during the Mexican war.

I was received with so little cordiality that I perhaps stated the

object of my visit with less clearness than I might have done, and I had

not uttered many sentences before I was cut short as if my plan was

preposterous. I returned to Cairo very much crestfallen.

Flag-officer Foote commanded the little fleet of gunboats then in the

neighborhood of Cairo and, though in another branch of the service, was

subject to the command of General Halleck. He and I consulted freely

upon military matters and he agreed with me perfectly as to the

feasibility of the campaign up the Tennessee. Notwithstanding the

rebuff I had received from my immediate chief, I therefore, on the 28th

of January, renewed the suggestion by telegraph that "if permitted, I

could take and hold Fort Henry on the Tennessee." This time I was

backed by Flag-officer Foote, who sent a similar dispatch. On the 29th

I wrote fully in support of the proposition. On the 1st of February I

received full instructions from department headquarters to move upon

Fort Henry. On the 2d the expedition started.

In February, 1862, there were quite a good many steamers laid up at

Cairo for want of employment, the Mississippi River being closed against

navigation below that point. There were also many men in the town whose

occupation had been following the river in various capacities, from

captain down to deck hand But there were not enough of either boats or

men to move at one time the 17,000 men I proposed to take with me up the

Tennessee. I loaded the boats with more than half the force, however,

and sent General McClernand in command. I followed with one of the

later boats and found McClernand had stopped, very properly, nine miles

below Fort Henry. Seven gunboats under Flag-officer Foote had

accompanied the advance. The transports we had with us had to return to

Paducah to bring up a division from there, with General C. F. Smith in

command.

Before sending the boats back I wanted to get the troops as near to the

enemy as I could without coming within range of their guns. There was a

stream emptying into the Tennessee on the east side, apparently at about

long range distance below the fort. On account of the narrow water-shed

separating the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers at that point, the stream

must be insignificant at ordinary stages, but when we were there, in

February, it was a torrent. It would facilitate the investment of Fort

Henry materially if the troops could be landed south of that stream. To

test whether this could be done I boarded the gunboat Essex and

requested Captain Wm. Porter commanding it, to approach the fort to draw

its fire. After we had gone some distance past the mouth of the stream

we drew the fire of the fort, which fell much short of us. In

consequence I had made up my mind to return and bring the troops to the

upper side of the creek, when the enemy opened upon us with a rifled gun

that sent shot far beyond us and beyond the stream. One shot passed

very near where Captain Porter and I were standing, struck the deck near

the stern, penetrated and passed through the cabin and so out into the

river. We immediately turned back, and the troops were debarked below

the mouth of the creek.

When the landing was completed I returned with the transports to Paducah

to hasten up the balance of the troops. I got back on the 5th with the

advance the remainder following as rapidly as the steamers could carry

them. At ten o'clock at night, on the 5th, the whole command was not

yet up. Being anxious to commence operations as soon as possible before

the enemy could reinforce heavily, I issued my orders for an advance at

11 A.M. on the 6th. I felt sure that all the troops would be up by that

time.

Fort Henry occupies a bend in the river which gave the guns in the water

battery a direct fire down the stream. The camp outside the fort was

intrenched, with rifle pits and outworks two miles back on the road to

Donelson and Dover. The garrison of the fort and camp was about 2,800,

with strong reinforcements from Donelson halted some miles out. There

were seventeen heavy guns in the fort. The river was very high, the

banks being overflowed except where the bluffs come to the water's edge.

A portion of the ground on which Fort Henry stood was two feet deep in

water. Below, the water extended into the woods several hundred yards

back from the bank on the east side. On the west bank Fort Heiman stood

on high ground, completely commanding Fort Henry. The distance from

Fort Henry to Donelson is but eleven miles. The two positions were so

important to the enemy, AS HE SAW HIS INTEREST, that it was natural to

suppose that reinforcements would come from every quarter from which

they could be got. Prompt action on our part was imperative.

The plan was for the troops and gunboats to start at the same moment.

The troops were to invest the garrison and the gunboats to attack the

fort at close quarters. General Smith was to land a brigade of his

division on the west bank during the night of the 5th and get it in rear

of Heiman.

At the hour designated the troops and gunboats started. General Smith

found Fort Heiman had been evacuated before his men arrived. The

gunboats soon engaged the water batteries at very close quarters, but

the troops which were to invest Fort Henry were delayed for want of

roads, as well as by the dense forest and the high water in what would

in dry weather have been unimportant beds of streams. This delay made

no difference in the result. On our first appearance Tilghman had sent

his entire command, with the exception of about one hundred men left to

man the guns in the fort, to the outworks on the road to Dover and

Donelson, so as to have them out of range of the guns of our navy; and

before any attack on the 6th he had ordered them to retreat on Donelson.

He stated in his subsequent report that the defence was intended solely

to give his troops time to make their escape.

Tilghman was captured with his staff and ninety men, as well as the

armament of the fort, the ammunition and whatever stores were there.

Our cavalry pursued the retreating column towards Donelson and picked up

two guns and a few stragglers; but the enemy had so much the start, that

the pursuing force did not get in sight of any except the stragglers.

All the gunboats engaged were hit many times. The damage, however,

beyond what could be repaired by a small expenditure of money, was

slight, except to the Essex. A shell penetrated the boiler of that

vessel and exploded it, killing and wounding forty-eight men, nineteen

of whom were soldiers who had been detailed to act with the navy. On

several occasions during the war such details were made when the

complement of men with the navy was insufficient for the duty before

them. After the fall of Fort Henry Captain Phelps, commanding the

iron-clad Carondelet, at my request ascended the Tennessee River and

thoroughly destroyed the bridge of the Memphis and Ohio Railroad.

CHAPTER XXII.

INVESTMENT OF FORT DONELSON--THE NAVAL OPERATIONS--ATTACK OF THE ENEMY

--ASSAULTING THE WORKS--SURRENDER OF THE FORT.

I informed the department commander of our success at Fort Henry and

that on the 8th I would take Fort Donelson. But the rain continued to

fall so heavily that the roads became impassable for artillery and wagon

trains. Then, too, it would not have been prudent to proceed without

the gunboats. At least it would have been leaving behind a valuable

part of our available force.

On the 7th, the day after the fall of Fort Henry, I took my staff and

the cavalry--a part of one regiment--and made a reconnoissance to within

about a mile of the outer line of works at Donelson. I had known

General Pillow in Mexico, and judged that with any force, no matter how

small, I could march up to within gunshot of any intrenchments he was

given to hold. I said this to the officers of my staff at the time. I

knew that Floyd was in command, but he was no soldier, and I judged that

he would yield to Pillow's pretensions. I met, as I expected, no

opposition in making the reconnoissance and, besides learning the

topography of the country on the way and around Fort Donelson, found

that there were two roads available for marching; one leading to the

village of Dover, the other to Donelson.

Fort Donelson is two miles north, or down the river, from Dover. The

fort, as it stood in 1861, embraced about one hundred acres of land. On

the east it fronted the Cumberland; to the north it faced Hickman's

creek, a small stream which at that time was deep and wide because of

the back-water from the river; on the south was another small stream, or

rather a ravine, opening into the Cumberland. This also was filled with

back-water from the river. The fort stood on high ground, some of it as

much as a hundred feet above the Cumberland. Strong protection to the

heavy guns in the water batteries had been obtained by cutting away

places for them in the bluff. To the west there was a line of rifle

pits some two miles back from the river at the farthest point. This

line ran generally along the crest of high ground, but in one place

crossed a ravine which opens into the river between the village and the

fort. The ground inside and outside of this intrenched line was very

broken and generally wooded. The trees outside of the rifle-pits had

been cut down for a considerable way out, and had been felled so that

their tops lay outwards from the intrenchments. The limbs had been

trimmed and pointed, and thus formed an abatis in front of the greater

part of the line. Outside of this intrenched line, and extending about

half the entire length of it, is a ravine running north and south and

opening into Hickman creek at a point north of the fort. The entire

side of this ravine next to the works was one long abatis.

General Halleck commenced his efforts in all quarters to get

reinforcements to forward to me immediately on my departure from Cairo.

General Hunter sent men freely from Kansas, and a large division under

General Nelson, from Buell's army, was also dispatched. Orders went out

from the War Department to consolidate fragments of companies that were

being recruited in the Western States so as to make full companies, and

to consolidate companies into regiments. General Halleck did not

approve or disapprove of my going to Fort Donelson. He said nothing

whatever to me on the subject. He informed Buell on the 7th that I

would march against Fort Donelson the next day; but on the 10th he

directed me to fortify Fort Henry strongly, particularly to the land

side, saying that he forwarded me intrenching tools for that purpose. I

received this dispatch in front of Fort Donelson.

I was very impatient to get to Fort Donelson because I knew the

importance of the place to the enemy and supposed he would reinforce it

rapidly. I felt that 15,000 men on the 8th would be more effective than

50,000 a month later. I asked Flag-officer Foote, therefore, to order

his gunboats still about Cairo to proceed up the Cumberland River and

not to wait for those gone to Eastport and Florence; but the others got

back in time and we started on the 12th. I had moved McClernand out a

few miles the night before so as to leave the road as free as possible.

Just as we were about to start the first reinforcement reached me on

transports. It was a brigade composed of six full regiments commanded

by Colonel Thayer, of Nebraska. As the gunboats were going around to

Donelson by the Tennessee, Ohio and Cumberland rivers, I directed Thayer

to turn about and go under their convoy.

I started from Fort Henry with 15,000 men, including eight batteries and

part of a regiment of cavalry, and, meeting with no obstruction to

detain us, the advance arrived in front of the enemy by noon. That

afternoon and the next day were spent in taking up ground to make the

investment as complete as possible. General Smith had been directed to

leave a portion of his division behind to guard forts Henry and Heiman.

He left General Lew. Wallace with 2,500 men. With the remainder of his

division he occupied our left, extending to Hickman creek. McClernand

was on the right and covered the roads running south and south-west from

Dover. His right extended to the back-water up the ravine opening into

the Cumberland south of the village. The troops were not intrenched, but

the nature of the ground was such that they were just as well protected

from the fire of the enemy as if rifle-pits had been thrown up. Our

line was generally along the crest of ridges. The artillery was

protected by being sunk in the ground. The men who were not serving the

guns were perfectly covered from fire on taking position a little back

from the crest. The greatest suffering was from want of shelter. It

was midwinter and during the siege we had rain and snow, thawing and

freezing alternately. It would not do to allow camp-fires except far

down the hill out of sight of the enemy, and it would not do to allow

many of the troops to remain there at the same time. In the march over

from Fort Henry numbers of the men had thrown away their blankets and

overcoats. There was therefore much discomfort and absolute suffering.

During the 12th and 13th, and until the arrival of Wallace and Thayer on

the 14th, the National forces, composed of but 15,000 men, without

intrenchments, confronted an intrenched army of 21,000, without conflict

further than what was brought on by ourselves. Only one gunboat had

arrived. There was a little skirmishing each day, brought on by the

movement of our troops in securing commanding positions; but there was

no actual fighting during this time except once, on the 13th, in front

of McClernand's command. That general had undertaken to capture a

battery of the enemy which was annoying his men. Without orders or

authority he sent three regiments to make the assault. The battery was

in the main line of the enemy, which was defended by his whole army

present. Of course the assault was a failure, and of course the loss on

our side was great for the number of men engaged. In this assault

Colonel William Morrison fell badly wounded. Up to this time the

surgeons with the army had no difficulty in finding room in the houses

near our line for all the sick and wounded; but now hospitals were

overcrowded. Owing, however, to the energy and skill of the surgeons the

suffering was not so great as it might have been. The hospital

arrangements at Fort Donelson were as complete as it was possible to

make them, considering the inclemency of the weather and the lack of

tents, in a sparsely settled country where the houses were generally of

but one or two rooms.

On the return of Captain Walke to Fort Henry on the 10th, I had

requested him to take the vessels that had accompanied him on his

expedition up the Tennessee, and get possession of the Cumberland as far

up towards Donelson as possible. He started without delay, taking,

however, only his own gunboat, the Carondelet, towed by the steamer

Alps. Captain Walke arrived a few miles below Donelson on the 12th, a

little after noon. About the time the advance of troops reached a point

within gunshot of the fort on the land side, he engaged the water

batteries at long range. On the 13th I informed him of my arrival the

day before and of the establishment of most of our batteries, requesting

him at the same time to attack again that day so that I might take

advantage of any diversion. The attack was made and many shots fell

within the fort, creating some consternation, as we now know. The

investment on the land side was made as complete as the number of troops

engaged would admit of.

During the night of the 13th Flag-officer Foote arrived with the

iron-clads St. Louis, Louisville and Pittsburg and the wooden gunboats

Tyler and Conestoga, convoying Thayer's brigade. On the morning of the

14th Thayer was landed. Wallace, whom I had ordered over from Fort

Henry, also arrived about the same time. Up to this time he had been

commanding a brigade belonging to the division of General C. F. Smith.

These troops were now restored to the division they belonged to, and

General Lew. Wallace was assigned to the command of a division composed

of the brigade of Colonel Thayer and other reinforcements that arrived

the same day. This new division was assigned to the centre, giving the

two flanking divisions an opportunity to close up and form a stronger

line.

The plan was for the troops to hold the enemy within his lines, while

the gunboats should attack the water batteries at close quarters and

silence his guns if possible. Some of the gunboats were to run the

batteries, get above the fort and above the village of Dover. I had

ordered a reconnoissance made with the view of getting troops to the

river above Dover in case they should be needed there. That position

attained by the gunboats it would have been but a question of time--and

a very short time, too--when the garrison would have been compelled to

surrender.

By three in the afternoon of the 14th Flag-officer Foote was ready, and

advanced upon the water batteries with his entire fleet. After coming

in range of the batteries of the enemy the advance was slow, but a

constant fire was delivered from every gun that could be brought to bear

upon the fort. I occupied a position on shore from which I could see

the advancing navy. The leading boat got within a very short distance of

the water battery, not further off I think than two hundred yards, and I

soon saw one and then another of them dropping down the river, visibly

disabled. Then the whole fleet followed and the engagement closed for

the day. The gunboat which Flag-officer Foote was on, besides having

been hit about sixty times, several of the shots passing through near

the waterline, had a shot enter the pilot-house which killed the pilot,

carried away the wheel and wounded the flag-officer himself. The

tiller-ropes of another vessel were carried away and she, too, dropped

helplessly back. Two others had their pilot-houses so injured that they

scarcely formed a protection to the men at the wheel.

The enemy had evidently been much demoralized by the assault, but they

were jubilant when they saw the disabled vessels dropping down the river

entirely out of the control of the men on board. Of course I only

witnessed the falling back of our gunboats and felt sad enough at the

time over the repulse. Subsequent reports, now published, show that the

enemy telegraphed a great victory to Richmond. The sun went down on the

night of the 14th of February, 1862, leaving the army confronting Fort

Donelson anything but comforted over the prospects. The weather had

turned intensely cold; the men were without tents and could not keep up

fires where most of them had to stay, and, as previously stated, many

had thrown away their overcoats and blankets. Two of the strongest of

our gunboats had been disabled, presumably beyond the possibility of

rendering any present assistance. I retired this night not knowing but

that I would have to intrench my position, and bring up tents for the

men or build huts under the cover of the hills.

On the morning of the 15th, before it was yet broad day, a messenger

from Flag-officer Foote handed me a note, expressing a desire to see me

on the flag-ship and saying that he had been injured the day before so

much that he could not come himself to me. I at once made my

preparations for starting. I directed my adjutant-general to notify

each of the division commanders of my absence and instruct them to do

nothing to bring on an engagement until they received further orders,

but to hold their positions. From the heavy rains that had fallen for

days and weeks preceding and from the constant use of the roads between

the troops and the landing four to seven miles below, these roads had

become cut up so as to be hardly passable. The intense cold of the

night of the 14th-15th had frozen the ground solid. This made travel on

horseback even slower than through the mud; but I went as fast as the

roads would allow.

When I reached the fleet I found the flag-ship was anchored out in the

stream. A small boat, however, awaited my arrival and I was soon on

board with the flag-officer. He explained to me in short the condition

in which he was left by the engagement of the evening before, and

suggested that I should intrench while he returned to Mound City with

his disabled boats, expressing at the time the belief that he could have

the necessary repairs made and be back in ten days. I saw the absolute

necessity of his gunboats going into hospital and did not know but I

should be forced to the alternative of going through a siege. But the

enemy relieved me from this necessity.

When I left the National line to visit Flag-officer Foote I had no idea

that there would be any engagement on land unless I brought it on

myself. The conditions for battle were much more favorable to us than

they had been for the first two days of the investment. From the 12th

to the 14th we had but 15,000 men of all arms and no gunboats. Now we

had been reinforced by a fleet of six naval vessels, a large division of

troops under General L. Wallace and 2,500 men brought over from Fort

Henry belonging to the division of C. F. Smith. The enemy, however, had

taken the initiative. Just as I landed I met Captain Hillyer of my

staff, white with fear, not for his personal safety, but for the safety

of the National troops. He said the enemy had come out of his lines in

full force and attacked and scattered McClernand's division, which was

in full retreat. The roads, as I have said, were unfit for making fast

time, but I got to my command as soon as possible. The attack had been

made on the National right. I was some four or five miles north of our

left. The line was about three miles long. In reaching the point where

the disaster had occurred I had to pass the divisions of Smith and

Wallace. I saw no sign of excitement on the portion of the line held by

Smith; Wallace was nearer the scene of conflict and had taken part in

it. He had, at an opportune time, sent Thayer's brigade to the support

of McClernand and thereby contributed to hold the enemy within his

lines.

I saw everything favorable for us along the line of our left and centre.

When I came to the right appearances were different. The enemy had come

out in full force to cut his way out and make his escape. McClernand's

division had to bear the brunt of the attack from this combined force.

His men had stood up gallantly until the ammunition in their

cartridge-boxes gave out. There was abundance of ammunition near by

lying on the ground in boxes, but at that stage of the war it was not

all of our commanders of regiments, brigades, or even divisions, who had

been educated up to the point of seeing that their men were constantly

supplied with ammunition during an engagement. When the men found

themselves without ammunition they could not stand up against troops who

seemed to have plenty of it. The division broke and a portion fled, but

most of the men, as they were not pursued, only fell back out of range

of the fire of the enemy. It must have been about this time that Thayer

pushed his brigade in between the enemy and those of our troops that

were without ammunition. At all events the enemy fell back within his

intrenchments and was there when I got on the field.

I saw the men standing in knots talking in the most excited manner. No

officer seemed to be giving any directions. The soldiers had their

muskets, but no ammunition, while there were tons of it close at hand.

I heard some of the men say that the enemy had come out with knapsacks,

and haversacks filled with rations. They seemed to think this indicated

a determination on his part to stay out and fight just as long as the

provisions held out. I turned to Colonel J. D. Webster, of my staff,

who was with me, and said: "Some of our men are pretty badly

demoralized, but the enemy must be more so, for he has attempted to

force his way out, but has fallen back: the one who attacks first now

will be victorious and the enemy will have to be in a hurry if he gets

ahead of me." I determined to make the assault at once on our left. It

was clear to my mind that the enemy had started to march out with his

entire force, except a few pickets, and if our attack could be made on

the left before the enemy could redistribute his forces along the line,

we would find but little opposition except from the intervening abatis.

I directed Colonel Webster to ride with me and call out to the men as we

passed: "Fill your cartridge-boxes, quick, and get into line; the enemy

is trying to escape and he must not be permitted to do so." This acted

like a charm. The men only wanted some one to give them a command. We

rode rapidly to Smith's quarters, when I explained the situation to him

and directed him to charge the enemy's works in his front with his whole

division, saying at the same time that he would find nothing but a very

thin line to contend with. The general was off in an incredibly short

time, going in advance himself to keep his men from firing while they

were working their way through the abatis intervening between them and

the enemy. The outer line of rifle-pits was passed, and the night of

the 15th General Smith, with much of his division, bivouacked within the

lines of the enemy. There was now no doubt but that the Confederates

must surrender or be captured the next day.

There seems from subsequent accounts to have been much consternation,

particularly among the officers of high rank, in Dover during the night

of the 15th. General Floyd, the commanding officer, who was a man of

talent enough for any civil position, was no soldier and, possibly, did

not possess the elements of one. He was further unfitted for command,

for the reason that his conscience must have troubled him and made him

afraid. As Secretary of War he had taken a solemn oath to maintain the

Constitution of the United States and to uphold the same against all its

enemies. He had betrayed that trust. As Secretary of War he was

reported through the northern press to have scattered the little army

the country had so that the most of it could be picked up in detail when

secession occurred. About a year before leaving the Cabinet he had

removed arms from northern to southern arsenals. He continued in the

Cabinet of President Buchanan until about the 1st of January, 1861,

while he was working vigilantly for the establishment of a confederacy

made out of United States territory. Well may he have been afraid to

fall into the hands of National troops. He would no doubt have been

tried for misappropriating public property, if not for treason, had he

been captured. General Pillow, next in command, was conceited, and

prided himself much on his services in the Mexican war. He telegraphed

to General Johnston, at Nashville, after our men were within the rebel

rifle-pits, and almost on the eve of his making his escape, that the

Southern troops had had great success all day. Johnston forwarded the

dispatch to Richmond. While the authorities at the capital were reading

it Floyd and Pillow were fugitives.

A council of war was held by the enemy at which all agreed that it would

be impossible to hold out longer. General Buckner, who was third in

rank in the garrison but much the most capable soldier, seems to have

regarded it a duty to hold the fort until the general commanding the

department, A. S. Johnston, should get back to his headquarters at

Nashville. Buckner's report shows, however, that he considered Donelson

lost and that any attempt to hold the place longer would be at the

sacrifice of the command. Being assured that Johnston was already in

Nashville, Buckner too agreed that surrender was the proper thing.

Floyd turned over the command to Pillow, who declined it. It then

devolved upon Buckner, who accepted the responsibility of the position.

Floyd and Pillow took possession of all the river transports at Dover

and before morning both were on their way to Nashville, with the brigade

formerly commanded by Floyd and some other troops, in all about 3,000.

Some marched up the east bank of the Cumberland; others went on the

steamers. During the night Forrest also, with his cavalry and some

other troops about a thousand in all, made their way out, passing

between our right and the river. They had to ford or swim over the

back-water in the little creek just south of Dover.

Before daylight General Smith brought to me the following letter from

General Buckner:

HEADQUARTERS, FORT DONELSON, February 16, 1862.

SIR:--In consideration of all the circumstances governing the present

situation of affairs at this station, I propose to the Commanding

Officer of the Federal forces the appointment of Commissioners to agree

upon terms of capitulation of the forces and fort under my command, and

in that view suggest an armistice until 12 o'clock to-day.

I am, sir, very respectfully, Your ob't se'v't, S. B. BUCKNER, Brig.

Gen. C. S. A.

To Brigadier-General U. S. Grant, Com'ding U. S. Forces, Near Fort

Donelson.

To this I responded as follows:

HEADQUARTERS ARMY IN THE FIELD, Camp near Donelson, February 16, 1862.

General S. B. BUCKNER, Confederate Army.

SIR:--Yours of this date, proposing armistice and appointment of

Commissioners to settle terms of capitulation, is just received. No

terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.

I propose to move immediately upon your works.

I am, sir, very respectfully, Your ob't se'v't, U. S. GRANT, Brig. Gen.

To this I received the following reply:

HEADQUARTERS, DOVER, TENNESSEE, February 16, 1862.

To Brig. Gen'l U. S. GRANT, U. S. Army.

SIR:--The distribution of the forces under my command, incident to an

unexpected change of commanders, and the overwhelming force under your

command, compel me, notwithstanding the brilliant success of the

Confederate arms yesterday, to accept the ungenerous and unchivalrous

terms which you propose.

I am, sir, Your very ob't se'v't, S. B. BUCKNER, Brig. Gen. C. S. A.

General Buckner, as soon as he had dispatched the first of the above

letters, sent word to his different commanders on the line of

rifle-pits, notifying them that he had made a proposition looking to the

surrender of the garrison, and directing them to notify National troops

in their front so that all fighting might be prevented. White flags

were stuck at intervals along the line of rifle-pits, but none over the

fort. As soon as the last letter from Buckner was received I mounted my

horse and rode to Dover. General Wallace, I found, had preceded me an

hour or more. I presume that, seeing white flags exposed in his front,

he rode up to see what they meant and, not being fired upon or halted,

he kept on until he found himself at the headquarters of General

Buckner.

I had been at West Point three years with Buckner and afterwards served

with him in the army, so that we were quite well acquainted. In the

course of our conversation, which was very friendly, he said to me that

if he had been in command I would not have got up to Donelson as easily

as I did. I told him that if he had been in command I should not have

tried in the way I did: I had invested their lines with a smaller force

than they had to defend them, and at the same time had sent a brigade

full 5,000 strong, around by water; I had relied very much upon their

commander to allow me to come safely up to the outside of their works.

I asked General Buckner about what force he had to surrender. He

replied that he could not tell with any degree of accuracy; that all the

sick and weak had been sent to Nashville while we were about Fort Henry;

that Floyd and Pillow had left during the night, taking many men with

them; and that Forrest, and probably others, had also escaped during the

preceding night: the number of casualties he could not tell; but he

said I would not find fewer than 12,000, nor more than 15,000.

He asked permission to send parties outside of the lines to bury his

dead, who had fallen on the 15th when they tried to get out. I gave

directions that his permit to pass our limits should be recognized. I

have no reason to believe that this privilege was abused, but it

familiarized our guards so much with the sight of Confederates passing

to and fro that I have no doubt many got beyond our pickets unobserved

and went on. The most of the men who went in that way no doubt thought

they had had war enough, and left with the intention of remaining out of

the army. Some came to me and asked permission to go, saying that they

were tired of the war and would not be caught in the ranks again, and I

bade them go.

The actual number of Confederates at Fort Donelson can never be given

with entire accuracy. The largest number admitted by any writer on the

Southern side, is by Colonel Preston Johnston. He gives the number at

17,000. But this must be an underestimate. The commissary general of

prisoners reported having issued rations to 14,623 Fort Donelson

prisoners at Cairo, as they passed that point. General Pillow reported

the killed and wounded at 2,000; but he had less opportunity of knowing

the actual numbers than the officers of McClernand's division, for most

of the killed and wounded fell outside their works, in front of that

division, and were buried or cared for by Buckner after the surrender

and when Pillow was a fugitive. It is known that Floyd and Pillow

escaped during the night of the 15th, taking with them not less than

3,000 men. Forrest escaped with about 1,000 and others were leaving

singly and in squads all night. It is probable that the Confederate

force at Donelson, on the 15th of February, 1862, was 21,000 in round

numbers.

On the day Fort Donelson fell I had 27,000 men to confront the

Confederate lines and guard the road four or five miles to the left,

over which all our supplies had to be drawn on wagons. During the 16th,

after the surrender, additional reinforcements arrived.

During the siege General Sherman had been sent to Smithland, at the

mouth of the Cumberland River, to forward reinforcements and supplies to

me. At that time he was my senior in rank and there was no authority of

law to assign a junior to command a senior of the same grade. But every

boat that came up with supplies or reinforcements brought a note of

encouragement from Sherman, asking me to call upon him for any

assistance he could render and saying that if he could be of service at

the front I might send for him and he would waive rank.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PROMOTED MAJOR-GENERAL OF VOLUNTEERS--UNOCCUPIED TERRITORY--ADVANCE UPON

NASHVILLE--SITUATION OF THE TROOPS--CONFEDERATE RETREAT--RELIEVED OF THE

COMMAND--RESTORED TO THE COMMAND--GENERAL SMITH.

The news of the fall of Fort Donelson caused great delight all over the

North. At the South, particularly in Richmond, the effect was

correspondingly depressing. I was promptly promoted to the grade of

Major-General of Volunteers, and confirmed by the Senate. All three of

my division commanders were promoted to the same grade and the colonels

who commanded brigades were made brigadier-generals in the volunteer

service. My chief, who was in St. Louis, telegraphed his

congratulations to General Hunter in Kansas for the services he had

rendered in securing the fall of Fort Donelson by sending reinforcements

so rapidly. To Washington he telegraphed that the victory was due to

General C. F. Smith; "promote him," he said, "and the whole country will

applaud." On the 19th there was published at St. Louis a formal order

thanking Flag-officer Foote and myself, and the forces under our

command, for the victories on the Tennessee and the Cumberland. I

received no other recognition whatever from General Halleck. But

General Cullum, his chief of staff, who was at Cairo, wrote me a warm

congratulatory letter on his own behalf. I approved of General Smith's

promotion highly, as I did all the promotions that were made.

My opinion was and still is that immediately after the fall of Fort

Donelson the way was opened to the National forces all over the

South-west without much resistance. If one general who would have taken

the responsibility had been in command of all the troops west of the

Alleghanies, he could have marched to Chattanooga, Corinth, Memphis and

Vicksburg with the troops we then had, and as volunteering was going on

rapidly over the North there would soon have been force enough at all

these centres to operate offensively against any body of the enemy that

might be found near them. Rapid movements and the acquisition of

rebellious territory would have promoted volunteering, so that

reinforcements could have been had as fast as transportation could have

been obtained to carry them to their destination. On the other hand

there were tens of thousands of strong able-bodied young men still at

their homes in the South-western States, who had not gone into the

Confederate army in February, 1862, and who had no particular desire to

go. If our lines had been extended to protect their homes, many of them

never would have gone. Providence ruled differently. Time was given

the enemy to collect armies and fortify his new positions; and twice

afterwards he came near forcing his north-western front up to the Ohio

River.

I promptly informed the department commander of our success at Fort

Donelson and that the way was open now to Clarksville and Nashville; and

that unless I received orders to the contrary I should take Clarksville

on the 21st and Nashville about the 1st of March. Both these places are

on the Cumberland River above Fort Donelson. As I heard nothing from

headquarters on the subject, General C. F. Smith was sent to Clarksville

at the time designated and found the place evacuated. The capture of

forts Henry and Donelson had broken the line the enemy had taken from

Columbus to Bowling Green, and it was known that he was falling back

from the eastern point of this line and that Buell was following, or at

least advancing. I should have sent troops to Nashville at the time I

sent to Clarksville, but my transportation was limited and there were

many prisoners to be forwarded north.

None of the reinforcements from Buell's army arrived until the 24th of

February. Then General Nelson came up, with orders to report to me with

two brigades, he having sent one brigade to Cairo. I knew General Buell

was advancing on Nashville from the north, and I was advised by scouts

that the rebels were leaving that place, and trying to get out all the

supplies they could. Nashville was, at that time, one of the best

provisioned posts in the South. I had no use for reinforcements now,

and thinking Buell would like to have his troops again, I ordered Nelson

to proceed to Nashville without debarking at Fort Donelson. I sent a

gunboat also as a convoy. The Cumberland River was very high at the

time; the railroad bridge at Nashville had been burned, and all river

craft had been destroyed, or would be before the enemy left. Nashville

is on the west bank of the Cumberland, and Buell was approaching from

the east. I thought the steamers carrying Nelson's division would be

useful in ferrying the balance of Buell's forces across. I ordered

Nelson to put himself in communication with Buell as soon as possible,

and if he found him more than two days off from Nashville to return

below the city and await orders. Buell, however, had already arrived in

person at Edgefield, opposite Nashville, and Mitchell's division of his

command reached there the same day. Nelson immediately took possession

of the city.

After Nelson had gone and before I had learned of Buell's arrival, I

sent word to department headquarters that I should go to Nashville

myself on the 28th if I received no orders to the contrary. Hearing

nothing, I went as I had informed my superior officer I would do. On

arriving at Clarksville I saw a fleet of steamers at the shore--the same

that had taken Nelson's division--and troops going aboard. I landed and

called on the commanding officer, General C. F. Smith. As soon as he

saw me he showed an order he had just received from Buell in these

words:

NASHVILLE, February 25, 1862.

GENERAL C. F. SMITH, Commanding U. S. Forces, Clarksville.

GENERAL:--The landing of a portion of our troops, contrary to my

intentions, on the south side of the river has compelled me to hold this

side at every hazard. If the enemy should assume the offensive, and I

am assured by reliable persons that in view of my position such is his

intention, my force present is altogether inadequate, consisting of only

15,000 men. I have to request you, therefore, to come forward with all

the available force under your command. So important do I consider the

occasion that I think it necessary to give this communication all the

force of orders, and I send four boats, the Diana, Woodford, John Rain,

and Autocrat, to bring you up. In five or six days my force will

probably be sufficient to relieve you.

Very respectfully, your ob't srv't, D. C. BUELL, Brigadier-General

Comd'g.

P. S.--The steamers will leave here at 12 o'clock to-night.

General Smith said this order was nonsense. But I told him it was

better to obey it. The General replied, "of course I must obey," and

said his men were embarking as fast as they could. I went on up to

Nashville and inspected the position taken by Nelson's troops. I did

not see Buell during the day, and wrote him a note saying that I had

been in Nashville since early morning and had hoped to meet him. On my

return to the boat we met. His troops were still east of the river, and

the steamers that had carried Nelson's division up were mostly at

Clarksville to bring Smith's division. I said to General Buell my

information was that the enemy was retreating as fast as possible.

General Buell said there was fighting going on then only ten or twelve

miles away. I said: "Quite probably; Nashville contained valuable

stores of arms, ammunition and provisions, and the enemy is probably

trying to carry away all he can. The fighting is doubtless with the

rear-guard who are trying to protect the trains they are getting away

with." Buell spoke very positively of the danger Nashville was in of an

attack from the enemy. I said, in the absence of positive information,

I believed my information was correct. He responded that he "knew."

"Well," I said, "I do not know; but as I came by Clarksville General

Smith's troops were embarking to join you."

Smith's troops were returned the same day. The enemy were trying to get

away from Nashville and not to return to it.

At this time General Albert Sidney Johnston commanded all the

Confederate troops west of the Alleghany Mountains, with the exception

of those in the extreme south. On the National side the forces

confronting him were divided into, at first three, then four separate

departments. Johnston had greatly the advantage in having supreme

command over all troops that could possibly be brought to bear upon one

point, while the forces similarly situated on the National side, divided

into independent commands, could not be brought into harmonious action

except by orders from Washington.

At the beginning of 1862 Johnston's troops east of the Mississippi

occupied a line extending from Columbus, on his left, to Mill Springs,

on his right. As we have seen, Columbus, both banks of the Tennessee

River, the west bank of the Cumberland and Bowling Green, all were

strongly fortified. Mill Springs was intrenched. The National troops

occupied no territory south of the Ohio, except three small garrisons

along its bank and a force thrown out from Louisville to confront that

at Bowling Green. Johnston's strength was no doubt numerically inferior

to that of the National troops; but this was compensated for by the

advantage of being sole commander of all the Confederate forces at the

West, and of operating in a country where his friends would take care of

his rear without any detail of soldiers. But when General George H.

Thomas moved upon the enemy at Mill Springs and totally routed him,

inflicting a loss of some 300 killed and wounded, and forts Henry and

Heiman fell into the hands of the National forces, with their armaments

and about 100 prisoners, those losses seemed to dishearten the

Confederate commander so much that he immediately commenced a retreat

from Bowling Green on Nashville. He reached this latter place on the

14th of February, while Donelson was still besieged. Buell followed

with a portion of the Army of the Ohio, but he had to march and did not

reach the east bank of the Cumberland opposite Nashville until the 24th

of the month, and then with only one division of his army.

The bridge at Nashville had been destroyed and all boats removed or

disabled, so that a small garrison could have held the place against any

National troops that could have been brought against it within ten days

after the arrival of the force from Bowling Green. Johnston seemed to

lie quietly at Nashville to await the result at Fort Donelson, on which

he had staked the possession of most of the territory embraced in the

States of Kentucky and Tennessee. It is true, the two generals senior

in rank at Fort Donelson were sending him encouraging dispatches, even

claiming great Confederate victories up to the night of the 16th when

they must have been preparing for their individual escape. Johnston made

a fatal mistake in intrusting so important a command to Floyd, who he

must have known was no soldier even if he possessed the elements of one.

Pillow's presence as second was also a mistake. If these officers had

been forced upon him and designated for that particular command, then he

should have left Nashville with a small garrison under a trusty officer,

and with the remainder of his force gone to Donelson himself. If he had

been captured the result could not have been worse than it was.

Johnston's heart failed him upon the first advance of National troops.

He wrote to Richmond on the 8th of February, "I think the gunboats of

the enemy will probably take Fort Donelson without the necessity of

employing their land force in cooperation." After the fall of that

place he abandoned Nashville and Chattanooga without an effort to save

either, and fell back into northern Mississippi, where, six weeks later,

he was destined to end his career.

From the time of leaving Cairo I was singularly unfortunate in not

receiving dispatches from General Halleck. The order of the 10th of

February directing me to fortify Fort Henry strongly, particularly to

the land side, and saying that intrenching tools had been sent for that

purpose, reached me after Donelson was invested. I received nothing

direct which indicated that the department commander knew we were in

possession of Donelson. I was reporting regularly to the chief of

staff, who had been sent to Cairo, soon after the troops left there, to

receive all reports from the front and to telegraph the substance to the

St. Louis headquarters. Cairo was at the southern end of the telegraph

wire. Another line was started at once from Cairo to Paducah and

Smithland, at the mouths of the Tennessee and Cumberland respectively.

My dispatches were all sent to Cairo by boat, but many of those

addressed to me were sent to the operator at the end of the advancing

wire and he failed to forward them. This operator afterwards proved to

be a rebel; he deserted his post after a short time and went south

taking his dispatches with him. A telegram from General McClellan to me

of February 16th, the day of the surrender, directing me to report in

full the situation, was not received at my headquarters until the 3d of

March.

On the 2d of March I received orders dated March 1st to move my command

back to Fort Henry, leaving only a small garrison at Donelson. From

Fort Henry expeditions were to be sent against Eastport, Mississippi,

and Paris, Tennessee. We started from Donelson on the 4th, and the same

day I was back on the Tennessee River. On March 4th I also received the

following dispatch from General Halleck:

MAJ.-GEN. U. S. GRANT, Fort Henry:

You will place Maj.-Gen. C. F. Smith in command of expedition, and

remain yourself at Fort Henry. Why do you not obey my orders to report

strength and positions of your command?

H. W. HALLECK, Major-General.

I was surprised. This was the first intimation I had received that

General Halleck had called for information as to the strength of my

command. On the 6th he wrote to me again. "Your going to Nashville

without authority, and when your presence with your troops was of the

utmost importance, was a matter of very serious complaint at Washington,

so much so that I was advised to arrest you on your return." This was

the first I knew of his objecting to my going to Nashville. That place

was not beyond the limits of my command, which, it had been expressly

declared in orders, were "not defined." Nashville is west of the

Cumberland River, and I had sent troops that had reported to me for duty

to occupy the place. I turned over the command as directed and then

replied to General Halleck courteously, but asked to be relieved from

further duty under him.

Later I learned that General Halleck had been calling lustily for more

troops, promising that he would do something important if he could only

be sufficiently reinforced. McClellan asked him what force he then had.

Halleck telegraphed me to supply the information so far as my command

was concerned, but I received none of his dispatches. At last Halleck

reported to Washington that he had repeatedly ordered me to give the

strength of my force, but could get nothing out of me; that I had gone

to Nashville, beyond the limits of my command, without his authority,

and that my army was more demoralized by victory than the army at Bull

Run had been by defeat. General McClellan, on this information, ordered

that I should be relieved from duty and that an investigation should be

made into any charges against me. He even authorized my arrest. Thus

in less than two weeks after the victory at Donelson, the two leading

generals in the army were in correspondence as to what disposition

should be made of me, and in less than three weeks I was virtually in

arrest and without a command.

On the 13th of March I was restored to command, and on the 17th Halleck

sent me a copy of an order from the War Department which stated that

accounts of my misbehavior had reached Washington and directed him to

investigate and report the facts. He forwarded also a copy of a

detailed dispatch from himself to Washington entirely exonerating me;

but he did not inform me that it was his own reports that had created

all the trouble. On the contrary, he wrote to me, "Instead of relieving

you, I wish you, as soon as your new army is in the field, to assume

immediate command, and lead it to new victories." In consequence I felt

very grateful to him, and supposed it was his interposition that had set

me right with the government. I never knew the truth until General

Badeau unearthed the facts in his researches for his history of my

campaigns.

General Halleck unquestionably deemed General C. F. Smith a much fitter

officer for the command of all the forces in the military district than

I was, and, to render him available for such command, desired his

promotion to antedate mine and those of the other division commanders.

It is probable that the general opinion was that Smith's long services

in the army and distinguished deeds rendered him the more proper person

for such command. Indeed I was rather inclined to this opinion myself

at that time, and would have served as faithfully under Smith as he had

done under me. But this did not justify the dispatches which General

Halleck sent to Washington, or his subsequent concealment of them from

me when pretending to explain the action of my superiors.

On receipt of the order restoring me to command I proceeded to Savannah

on the Tennessee, to which point my troops had advanced. General Smith

was delighted to see me and was unhesitating in his denunciation of the

treatment I had received. He was on a sick bed at the time, from which

he never came away alive. His death was a severe loss to our western

army. His personal courage was unquestioned, his judgment and

professional acquirements were unsurpassed, and he had the confidence

of those he commanded as well as of those over him.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE ARMY AT PITTSBURG LANDING--INJURED BY A FALL--THE CONFEDERATE ATTACK

AT SHILOH--THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT SHILOH--GENERAL SHERMAN--CONDITION

OF THE ARMY--CLOSE OF THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT--THE SECOND DAY'S FIGHT

--RETREAT AND DEFEAT OF THE CONFEDERATES.

When I reassumed command on the 17th of March I found the army divided,

about half being on the east bank of the Tennessee at Savannah, while

one division was at Crump's landing on the west bank about four miles

higher up, and the remainder at Pittsburg landing, five miles above

Crump's. The enemy was in force at Corinth, the junction of the two

most important railroads in the Mississippi valley--one connecting

Memphis and the Mississippi River with the East, and the other leading

south to all the cotton states. Still another railroad connects Corinth

with Jackson, in west Tennessee. If we obtained possession of Corinth

the enemy would have no railroad for the transportation of armies or

supplies until that running east from Vicksburg was reached. It was the

great strategic position at the West between the Tennessee and the

Mississippi rivers and between Nashville and Vicksburg.

I at once put all the troops at Savannah in motion for Pittsburg

landing, knowing that the enemy was fortifying at Corinth and collecting

an army there under Johnston. It was my expectation to march against

that army as soon as Buell, who had been ordered to reinforce me with

the Army of the Ohio, should arrive; and the west bank of the river was

the place to start from. Pittsburg is only about twenty miles from

Corinth, and Hamburg landing, four miles further up the river, is a mile

or two nearer. I had not been in command long before I selected Hamburg

as the place to put the Army of the Ohio when it arrived. The roads

from Pittsburg and Hamburg to Corinth converge some eight miles out.

This disposition of the troops would have given additional roads to

march over when the advance commenced, within supporting distance of

each other.

Before I arrived at Savannah, Sherman, who had joined the Army of the

Tennessee and been placed in command of a division, had made an

expedition on steamers convoyed by gunboats to the neighborhood of

Eastport, thirty miles south, for the purpose of destroying the railroad

east of Corinth. The rains had been so heavy for some time before that

the low-lands had become impassable swamps. Sherman debarked his troops

and started out to accomplish the object of the expedition; but the

river was rising so rapidly that the back-water up the small tributaries

threatened to cut off the possibility of getting back to the boats, and

the expedition had to return without reaching the railroad. The guns

had to be hauled by hand through the water to get back to the boats.

On the 17th of March the army on the Tennessee River consisted of five

divisions, commanded respectively by Generals C. F. Smith, McClernand,

L. Wallace, Hurlbut and Sherman. General W. H. L. Wallace was

temporarily in command of Smith's division, General Smith, as I have

said, being confined to his bed. Reinforcements were arriving daily and

as they came up they were organized, first into brigades, then into a

division, and the command given to General Prentiss, who had been

ordered to report to me. General Buell was on his way from Nashville

with 40,000 veterans. On the 19th of March he was at Columbia,

Tennessee, eighty-five miles from Pittsburg. When all reinforcements

should have arrived I expected to take the initiative by marching on

Corinth, and had no expectation of needing fortifications, though this

subject was taken into consideration. McPherson, my only military

engineer, was directed to lay out a line to intrench. He did so, but

reported that it would have to be made in rear of the line of encampment

as it then ran. The new line, while it would be nearer the river, was

yet too far away from the Tennessee, or even from the creeks, to be

easily supplied with water, and in case of attack these creeks would be

in the hands of the enemy. The fact is, I regarded the campaign we were

engaged in as an offensive one and had no idea that the enemy would

leave strong intrenchments to take the initiative when he knew he would

be attacked where he was if he remained. This view, however, did not

prevent every precaution being taken and every effort made to keep

advised of all movements of the enemy.

Johnston's cavalry meanwhile had been well out towards our front, and

occasional encounters occurred between it and our outposts. On the 1st

of April this cavalry became bold and approached our lines, showing that

an advance of some kind was contemplated. On the 2d Johnston left

Corinth in force to attack my army. On the 4th his cavalry dashed down

and captured a small picket guard of six or seven men, stationed some

five miles out from Pittsburg on the Corinth road. Colonel Buckland

sent relief to the guard at once and soon followed in person with an

entire regiment, and General Sherman followed Buckland taking the

remainder of a brigade. The pursuit was kept up for some three miles

beyond the point where the picket guard had been captured, and after

nightfall Sherman returned to camp and reported to me by letter what had

occurred.

At this time a large body of the enemy was hovering to the west of us,

along the line of the Mobile and Ohio railroad. My apprehension was

much greater for the safety of Crump's landing than it was for

Pittsburg. I had no apprehension that the enemy could really capture

either place. But I feared it was possible that he might make a rapid

dash upon Crump's and destroy our transports and stores, most of which

were kept at that point, and then retreat before Wallace could be

reinforced. Lew. Wallace's position I regarded as so well chosen that

he was not removed.

At this time I generally spent the day at Pittsburg and returned to

Savannah in the evening. I was intending to remove my headquarters to

Pittsburg, but Buell was expected daily and would come in at Savannah.

I remained at this point, therefore, a few days longer than I otherwise

should have done, in order to meet him on his arrival. The skirmishing

in our front, however, had been so continuous from about the 3d of April

that I did not leave Pittsburg each night until an hour when I felt

there would be no further danger before the morning.

On Friday the 4th, the day of Buckland's advance, I was very much

injured by my horse falling with me, and on me, while I was trying to

get to the front where firing had been heard. The night was one of

impenetrable darkness, with rain pouring down in torrents; nothing was

visible to the eye except as revealed by the frequent flashes of

lightning. Under these circumstances I had to trust to the horse,

without guidance, to keep the road. I had not gone far, however, when I

met General W. H. L. Wallace and Colonel (afterwards General) McPherson

coming from the direction of the front. They said all was quiet so far

as the enemy was concerned. On the way back to the boat my horse's feet

slipped from under him, and he fell with my leg under his body. The

extreme softness of the ground, from the excessive rains of the few

preceding days, no doubt saved me from a severe injury and protracted

lameness. As it was, my ankle was very much injured, so much so that my

boot had to be cut off. For two or three days after I was unable to

walk except with crutches.

On the 5th General Nelson, with a division of Buell's army, arrived at

Savannah and I ordered him to move up the east bank of the river, to be

in a position where he could be ferried over to Crump's landing or

Pittsburg as occasion required. I had learned that General Buell

himself would be at Savannah the next day, and desired to meet me on his

arrival. Affairs at Pittsburg landing had been such for several days

that I did not want to be away during the day. I determined, therefore,

to take a very early breakfast and ride out to meet Buell, and thus save

time. He had arrived on the evening of the 5th, but had not advised me

of the fact and I was not aware of it until some time after. While I

was at breakfast, however, heavy firing was heard in the direction of

Pittsburg landing, and I hastened there, sending a hurried note to Buell

informing him of the reason why I could not meet him at Savannah. On

the way up the river I directed the dispatch-boat to run in close to

Crump's landing, so that I could communicate with General Lew. Wallace.

I found him waiting on a boat apparently expecting to see me, and I

directed him to get his troops in line ready to execute any orders he

might receive. He replied that his troops were already under arms and

prepared to move.

Up to that time I had felt by no means certain that Crump's landing

might not be the point of attack. On reaching the front, however, about

eight A.M., I found that the attack on Pittsburg was unmistakable, and

that nothing more than a small guard, to protect our transports and

stores, was needed at Crump's. Captain Baxter, a quartermaster on my

staff, was accordingly directed to go back and order General Wallace to

march immediately to Pittsburg by the road nearest the river. Captain

Baxter made a memorandum of this order. About one P.M., not hearing

from Wallace and being much in need of reinforcements, I sent two more

of my staff, Colonel McPherson and Captain Rowley, to bring him up with

his division. They reported finding him marching towards Purdy, Bethel,

or some point west from the river, and farther from Pittsburg by several

miles than when he started. The road from his first position to

Pittsburg landing was direct and near the river. Between the two points

a bridge had been built across Snake Creek by our troops, at which

Wallace's command had assisted, expressly to enable the troops at the

two places to support each other in case of need. Wallace did not

arrive in time to take part in the first day's fight. General Wallace

has since claimed that the order delivered to him by Captain Baxter was

simply to join the right of the army, and that the road over which he

marched would have taken him to the road from Pittsburg to Purdy where

it crosses Owl Creek on the right of Sherman; but this is not where I

had ordered him nor where I wanted him to go.

I never could see and do not now see why any order was necessary further

than to direct him to come to Pittsburg landing, without specifying by

what route. His was one of three veteran divisions that had been in

battle, and its absence was severely felt. Later in the war General

Wallace would not have made the mistake that he committed on the 6th of

April, 1862. I presume his idea was that by taking the route he did he

would be able to come around on the flank or rear of the enemy, and thus

perform an act of heroism that would redound to the credit of his

command, as well as to the benefit of his country.

Some two or three miles from Pittsburg landing was a log meeting-house

called Shiloh. It stood on the ridge which divides the waters of Snake

and Lick creeks, the former emptying into the Tennessee just north of

Pittsburg landing, and the latter south. This point was the key to our

position and was held by Sherman. His division was at that time wholly

raw, no part of it ever having been in an engagement; but I thought this

deficiency was more than made up by the superiority of the commander.

McClernand was on Sherman's left, with troops that had been engaged at

forts Henry and Donelson and were therefore veterans so far as western

troops had become such at that stage of the war. Next to McClernand

came Prentiss with a raw division, and on the extreme left, Stuart with

one brigade of Sherman's division. Hurlbut was in rear of Prentiss,

massed, and in reserve at the time of the onset. The division of

General C. F. Smith was on the right, also in reserve. General Smith

was still sick in bed at Savannah, but within hearing of our guns. His

services would no doubt have been of inestimable value had his health

permitted his presence. The command of his division devolved upon

Brigadier-General W. H. L. Wallace, a most estimable and able officer; a

veteran too, for he had served a year in the Mexican war and had been

with his command at Henry and Donelson. Wallace was mortally wounded in

the first day's engagement, and with the change of commanders thus

necessarily effected in the heat of battle the efficiency of his

division was much weakened.

The position of our troops made a continuous line from Lick Creek on the

left to Owl Creek, a branch of Snake Creek, on the right, facing nearly

south and possibly a little west. The water in all these streams was

very high at the time and contributed to protect our flanks. The enemy

was compelled, therefore, to attack directly in front. This he did with

great vigor, inflicting heavy losses on the National side, but suffering

much heavier on his own.

The Confederate assaults were made with such a disregard of losses on

their own side that our line of tents soon fell into their hands. The

ground on which the battle was fought was undulating, heavily timbered

with scattered clearings, the woods giving some protection to the troops

on both sides. There was also considerable underbrush. A number of

attempts were made by the enemy to turn our right flank, where Sherman

was posted, but every effort was repulsed with heavy loss. But the

front attack was kept up so vigorously that, to prevent the success of

these attempts to get on our flanks, the National troops were compelled,

several times, to take positions to the rear nearer Pittsburg landing.

When the firing ceased at night the National line was all of a mile in

rear of the position it had occupied in the morning.

In one of the backward moves, on the 6th, the division commanded by

General Prentiss did not fall back with the others. This left his

flanks exposed and enabled the enemy to capture him with about 2,200 of

his officers and men. General Badeau gives four o'clock of the 6th as

about the time this capture took place. He may be right as to the time,

but my recollection is that the hour was later. General Prentiss

himself gave the hour as half-past five. I was with him, as I was with

each of the division commanders that day, several times, and my

recollection is that the last time I was with him was about half-past

four, when his division was standing up firmly and the General was as

cool as if expecting victory. But no matter whether it was four or

later, the story that he and his command were surprised and captured in

their camps is without any foundation whatever. If it had been true, as

currently reported at the time and yet believed by thousands of people,

that Prentiss and his division had been captured in their beds, there

would not have been an all-day struggle, with the loss of thousands

killed and wounded on the Confederate side.

With the single exception of a few minutes after the capture of

Prentiss, a continuous and unbroken line was maintained all day from

Snake Creek or its tributaries on the right to Lick Creek or the

Tennessee on the left above Pittsburg.

There was no hour during the day when there was not heavy firing and

generally hard fighting at some point on the line, but seldom at all

points at the same time. It was a case of Southern dash against

Northern pluck and endurance. Three of the five divisions engaged on

Sunday were entirely raw, and many of the men had only received their

arms on the way from their States to the field. Many of them had

arrived but a day or two before and were hardly able to load their

muskets according to the manual. Their officers were equally ignorant

of their duties. Under these circumstances it is not astonishing that

many of the regiments broke at the first fire. In two cases, as I now

remember, colonels led their regiments from the field on first hearing

the whistle of the enemy's bullets. In these cases the colonels were

constitutional cowards, unfit for any military position; but not so the

officers and men led out of danger by them. Better troops never went

upon a battle-field than many of these, officers and men, afterwards

proved themselves to be, who fled panic stricken at the first whistle of

bullets and shell at Shiloh.

During the whole of Sunday I was continuously engaged in passing from

one part of the field to another, giving directions to division

commanders. In thus moving along the line, however, I never deemed it

important to stay long with Sherman. Although his troops were then

under fire for the first time, their commander, by his constant presence

with them, inspired a confidence in officers and men that enabled them

to render services on that bloody battle-field worthy of the best of

veterans. McClernand was next to Sherman, and the hardest fighting was

in front of these two divisions. McClernand told me on that day, the

6th, that he profited much by having so able a commander supporting him.

A casualty to Sherman that would have taken him from the field that day

would have been a sad one for the troops engaged at Shiloh. And how

near we came to this! On the 6th Sherman was shot twice, once in the

hand, once in the shoulder, the ball cutting his coat and making a

slight wound, and a third ball passed through his hat. In addition to

this he had several horses shot during the day.

The nature of this battle was such that cavalry could not be used in

front; I therefore formed ours into line in rear, to stop stragglers--of

whom there were many. When there would be enough of them to make a

show, and after they had recovered from their fright, they would be sent

to reinforce some part of the line which needed support, without regard

to their companies, regiments or brigades.

On one occasion during the day I rode back as far as the river and met

General Buell, who had just arrived; I do not remember the hour, but at

that time there probably were as many as four or five thousand

stragglers lying under cover of the river bluff, panic-stricken, most of

whom would have been shot where they lay, without resistance, before

they would have taken muskets and marched to the front to protect

themselves. This meeting between General Buell and myself was on the

dispatch-boat used to run between the landing and Savannah. It was

brief, and related specially to his getting his troops over the river.

As we left the boat together, Buell's attention was attracted by the men

lying under cover of the river bank. I saw him berating them and trying

to shame them into joining their regiments. He even threatened them

with shells from the gunboats near by. But it was all to no effect.

Most of these men afterward proved themselves as gallant as any of those

who saved the battle from which they had deserted. I have no doubt that

this sight impressed General Buell with the idea that a line of retreat

would be a good thing just then. If he had come in by the front instead

of through the stragglers in the rear, he would have thought and felt

differently. Could he have come through the Confederate rear, he would

have witnessed there a scene similar to that at our own. The distant

rear of an army engaged in battle is not the best place from which to

judge correctly what is going on in front. Later in the war, while

occupying the country between the Tennessee and the Mississippi, I

learned that the panic in the Confederate lines had not differed much

from that within our own. Some of the country people estimated the

stragglers from Johnston's army as high as 20,000. Of course this was

an exaggeration.

The situation at the close of Sunday was as follows: along the top of

the bluff just south of the log-house which stood at Pittsburg landing,

Colonel J. D. Webster, of my staff, had arranged twenty or more pieces

of artillery facing south or up the river. This line of artillery was

on the crest of a hill overlooking a deep ravine opening into the

Tennessee. Hurlbut with his division intact was on the right of this

artillery, extending west and possibly a little north. McClernand came

next in the general line, looking more to the west. His division was

complete in its organization and ready for any duty. Sherman came next,

his right extending to Snake Creek. His command, like the other two, was

complete in its organization and ready, like its chief, for any service

it might be called upon to render. All three divisions were, as a

matter of course, more or less shattered and depleted in numbers from

the terrible battle of the day. The division of W. H. L. Wallace, as

much from the disorder arising from changes of division and brigade

commanders, under heavy fire, as from any other cause, had lost its

organization and did not occupy a place in the line as a division.

Prentiss' command was gone as a division, many of its members having

been killed, wounded or captured, but it had rendered valiant services

before its final dispersal, and had contributed a good share to the

defence of Shiloh.

The right of my line rested near the bank of Snake Creek, a short

distance above the bridge which had been built by the troops for the

purpose of connecting Crump's landing and Pittsburg landing. Sherman

had posted some troops in a log-house and out-buildings which overlooked

both the bridge over which Wallace was expected and the creek above that

point. In this last position Sherman was frequently attacked before

night, but held the point until he voluntarily abandoned it to advance

in order to make room for Lew. Wallace, who came up after dark.

There was, as I have said, a deep ravine in front of our left. The

Tennessee River was very high and there was water to a considerable

depth in the ravine. Here the enemy made a last desperate effort to

turn our flank, but was repelled. The gunboats Tyler and Lexington,

Gwin and Shirk commanding, with the artillery under Webster, aided the

army and effectually checked their further progress. Before any of

Buell's troops had reached the west bank of the Tennessee, firing had

almost entirely ceased; anything like an attempt on the part of the

enemy to advance had absolutely ceased. There was some artillery firing

from an unseen enemy, some of his shells passing beyond us; but I do not

remember that there was the whistle of a single musket-ball heard. As

his troops arrived in the dusk General Buell marched several of his

regiments part way down the face of the hill where they fired briskly

for some minutes, but I do not think a single man engaged in this firing

received an injury. The attack had spent its force.

General Lew. Wallace, with 5,000 effective men, arrived after firing had

ceased for the day, and was placed on the right. Thus night came,

Wallace came, and the advance of Nelson's division came; but none

--unless night--in time to be of material service to the gallant men who

saved Shiloh on that first day against large odds. Buell's loss on the

6th of April was two men killed and one wounded, all members of the 36th

Indiana infantry. The Army of the Tennessee lost on that day at least

7,000 men. The presence of two or three regiments of Buell's army on

the west bank before firing ceased had not the slightest effect in

preventing the capture of Pittsburg landing.

So confident was I before firing had ceased on the 6th that the next day

would bring victory to our arms if we could only take the initiative,

that I visited each division commander in person before any

reinforcements had reached the field. I directed them to throw out

heavy lines of skirmishers in the morning as soon as they could see, and

push them forward until they found the enemy, following with their

entire divisions in supporting distance, and to engage the enemy as soon

as found. To Sherman I told the story of the assault at Fort Donelson,

and said that the same tactics would win at Shiloh. Victory was assured

when Wallace arrived, even if there had been no other support. I was

glad, however, to see the reinforcements of Buell and credit them with

doing all there was for them to do.

During the night of the 6th the remainder of Nelson's division, Buell's

army crossed the river and were ready to advance in the morning, forming

the left wing. Two other divisions, Crittenden's and McCook's, came up

the river from Savannah in the transports and were on the west bank

early on the 7th. Buell commanded them in person. My command was thus

nearly doubled in numbers and efficiency.

During the night rain fell in torrents and our troops were exposed to

the storm without shelter. I made my headquarters under a tree a few

hundred yards back from the river bank. My ankle was so much swollen

from the fall of my horse the Friday night preceding, and the bruise was

so painful, that I could get no rest.

The drenching rain would have precluded the possibility of sleep without

this additional cause. Some time after midnight, growing restive under

the storm and the continuous pain, I moved back to the log-house under

the bank. This had been taken as a hospital, and all night wounded men

were being brought in, their wounds dressed, a leg or an arm amputated

as the case might require, and everything being done to save life or

alleviate suffering. The sight was more unendurable than encountering

the enemy's fire, and I returned to my tree in the rain.

The advance on the morning of the 7th developed the enemy in the camps

occupied by our troops before the battle began, more than a mile back

from the most advanced position of the Confederates on the day before.

It is known now that they had not yet learned of the arrival of Buell's

command. Possibly they fell back so far to get the shelter of our tents

during the rain, and also to get away from the shells that were dropped

upon them by the gunboats every fifteen minutes during the night.

The position of the Union troops on the morning of the 7th was as

follows: General Lew. Wallace on the right; Sherman on his left; then

McClernand and then Hurlbut. Nelson, of Buell's army, was on our

extreme left, next to the river.

Crittenden was next in line after Nelson and on his right, McCook

followed and formed the extreme right of Buell's command. My old

command thus formed the right wing, while the troops directly under

Buell constituted the left wing of the army. These relative positions

were retained during the entire day, or until the enemy was driven from

the field.

In a very short time the battle became general all along the line. This

day everything was favorable to the Union side. We had now become the

attacking party. The enemy was driven back all day, as we had been the

day before, until finally he beat a precipitate retreat. The last point

held by him was near the road leading from the landing to Corinth, on

the left of Sherman and right of McClernand. About three o'clock, being

near that point and seeing that the enemy was giving way everywhere

else, I gathered up a couple of regiments, or parts of regiments, from

troops near by, formed them in line of battle and marched them forward,

going in front myself to prevent premature or long-range firing. At

this point there was a clearing between us and the enemy favorable for

charging, although exposed. I knew the enemy were ready to break and

only wanted a little encouragement from us to go quickly and join their

friends who had started earlier. After marching to within musket-range

I stopped and let the troops pass. The command, CHARGE, was given, and

was executed with loud cheers and with a run; when the last of the enemy

broke. (*7)

CHAPTER XXV.

STRUCK BY A BULLET--PRECIPITATE RETREAT OF THE CONFEDERATES

--INTRENCHMENTS AT SHILOH--GENERAL BUELL--GENERAL JOHNSTON--REMARKS ON

SHILOH.

During this second day of the battle I had been moving from right to

left and back, to see for myself the progress made. In the early part

of the afternoon, while riding with Colonel McPherson and Major Hawkins,

then my chief commissary, we got beyond the left of our troops. We were

moving along the northern edge of a clearing, very leisurely, toward the

river above the landing. There did not appear to be an enemy to our

right, until suddenly a battery with musketry opened upon us from the

edge of the woods on the other side of the clearing. The shells and

balls whistled about our ears very fast for about a minute. I do not

think it took us longer than that to get out of range and out of sight.

In the sudden start we made, Major Hawkins lost his hat. He did not

stop to pick it up. When we arrived at a perfectly safe position we

halted to take an account of damages. McPherson's horse was panting as

if ready to drop. On examination it was found that a ball had struck

him forward of the flank just back of the saddle, and had gone entirely

through. In a few minutes the poor beast dropped dead; he had given no

sign of injury until we came to a stop. A ball had struck the metal

scabbard of my sword, just below the hilt, and broken it nearly off;

before the battle was over it had broken off entirely. There were

three of us: one had lost a horse, killed; one a hat and one a

sword-scabbard. All were thankful that it was no worse.

After the rain of the night before and the frequent and heavy rains for

some days previous, the roads were almost impassable. The enemy

carrying his artillery and supply trains over them in his retreat, made

them still worse for troops following. I wanted to pursue, but had not

the heart to order the men who had fought desperately for two days,

lying in the mud and rain whenever not fighting, and I did (*8) not feel

disposed to positively order Buell, or any part of his command, to

pursue. Although the senior in rank at the time I had been so only a

few weeks. Buell was, and had been for some time past, a department

commander, while I commanded only a district. I did not meet Buell in

person until too late to get troops ready and pursue with effect; but

had I seen him at the moment of the last charge I should have at least

requested him to follow.

I rode forward several miles the day after the battle, and found that

the enemy had dropped much, if not all, of their provisions, some

ammunition and the extra wheels of their caissons, lightening their

loads to enable them to get off their guns. About five miles out we

found their field hospital abandoned. An immediate pursuit must have

resulted in the capture of a considerable number of prisoners and

probably some guns.

Shiloh was the severest battle fought at the West during the war, and

but few in the East equalled it for hard, determined fighting. I saw an

open field, in our possession on the second day, over which the

Confederates had made repeated charges the day before, so covered with

dead that it would have been possible to walk across the clearing, in

any direction, stepping on dead bodies, without a foot touching the

ground. On our side National and Confederate troops were mingled

together in about equal proportions; but on the remainder of the field

nearly all were Confederates. On one part, which had evidently not been

ploughed for several years, probably because the land was poor, bushes

had grown up, some to the height of eight or ten feet. There was not one

of these left standing unpierced by bullets. The smaller ones were all

cut down.

Contrary to all my experience up to that time, and to the experience of

the army I was then commanding, we were on the defensive. We were

without intrenchments or defensive advantages of any sort, and more than

half the army engaged the first day was without experience or even drill

as soldiers. The officers with them, except the division commanders and

possibly two or three of the brigade commanders, were equally

inexperienced in war. The result was a Union victory that gave the men

who achieved it great confidence in themselves ever after.

The enemy fought bravely, but they had started out to defeat and destroy

an army and capture a position. They failed in both, with very heavy

loss in killed and wounded, and must have gone back discouraged and

convinced that the "Yankee" was not an enemy to be despised.

After the battle I gave verbal instructions to division commanders to

let the regiments send out parties to bury their own dead, and to detail

parties, under commissioned officers from each division, to bury the

Confederate dead in their respective fronts and to report the numbers so

buried. The latter part of these instructions was not carried out by

all; but they were by those sent from Sherman's division, and by some of

the parties sent out by McClernand. The heaviest loss sustained by the

enemy was in front of these two divisions.

The criticism has often been made that the Union troops should have been

intrenched at Shiloh. Up to that time the pick and spade had been but

little resorted to at the West. I had, however, taken this subject

under consideration soon after re-assuming command in the field, and, as

already stated, my only military engineer reported unfavorably. Besides

this, the troops with me, officers and men, needed discipline and drill

more than they did experience with the pick, shovel and axe.

Reinforcements were arriving almost daily, composed of troops that had

been hastily thrown together into companies and regiments--fragments of

incomplete organizations, the men and officers strangers to each other.

Under all these circumstances I concluded that drill and discipline were

worth more to our men than fortifications.

General Buell was a brave, intelligent officer, with as much

professional pride and ambition of a commendable sort as I ever knew. I

had been two years at West Point with him, and had served with him

afterwards, in garrison and in the Mexican war, several years more. He

was not given in early life or in mature years to forming intimate

acquaintances. He was studious by habit, and commanded the confidence

and respect of all who knew him. He was a strict disciplinarian, and

perhaps did not distinguish sufficiently between the volunteer who

"enlisted for the war" and the soldier who serves in time of peace. One

system embraced men who risked life for a principle, and often men of

social standing, competence, or wealth and independence of character.

The other includes, as a rule, only men who could not do as well in any

other occupation. General Buell became an object of harsh criticism

later, some going so far as to challenge his loyalty. No one who knew

him ever believed him capable of a dishonorable act, and nothing could

be more dishonorable than to accept high rank and command in war and

then betray the trust. When I came into command of the army in 1864, I

requested the Secretary of War to restore General Buell to duty.

After the war, during the summer of 1865, I travelled considerably

through the North, and was everywhere met by large numbers of people.

Every one had his opinion about the manner in which the war had been

conducted: who among the generals had failed, how, and why.

Correspondents of the press were ever on hand to hear every word

dropped, and were not always disposed to report correctly what did not

confirm their preconceived notions, either about the conduct of the war

or the individuals concerned in it. The opportunity frequently occurred

for me to defend General Buell against what I believed to be most unjust

charges. On one occasion a correspondent put in my mouth the very

charge I had so often refuted--of disloyalty. This brought from General

Buell a very severe retort, which I saw in the New York World some time

before I received the letter itself. I could very well understand his

grievance at seeing untrue and disgraceful charges apparently sustained

by an officer who, at the time, was at the head of the army. I replied

to him, but not through the press. I kept no copy of my letter, nor did

I ever see it in print; neither did I receive an answer.

General Albert Sidney Johnston, who commanded the Confederate forces at

the beginning of the battle, was disabled by a wound on the afternoon of

the first day. This wound, as I understood afterwards, was not

necessarily fatal, or even dangerous. But he was a man who would not

abandon what he deemed an important trust in the face of danger and

consequently continued in the saddle, commanding, until so exhausted by

the loss of blood that he had to be taken from his horse, and soon after

died. The news was not long in reaching our side and I suppose was

quite an encouragement to the National soldiers.

I had known Johnston slightly in the Mexican war and later as an officer

in the regular army. He was a man of high character and ability. His

contemporaries at West Point, and officers generally who came to know

him personally later and who remained on our side, expected him to prove

the most formidable man to meet that the Confederacy would produce.

I once wrote that nothing occurred in his brief command of an army to

prove or disprove the high estimate that had been placed upon his

military ability; but after studying the orders and dispatches of

Johnston I am compelled to materially modify my views of that officer's

qualifications as a soldier. My judgment now is that he was vacillating

and undecided in his actions.

All the disasters in Kentucky and Tennessee were so discouraging to the

authorities in Richmond that Jefferson Davis wrote an unofficial letter

to Johnston expressing his own anxiety and that of the public, and

saying that he had made such defence as was dictated by long friendship,

but that in the absence of a report he needed facts. The letter was not

a reprimand in direct terms, but it was evidently as much felt as though

it had been one. General Johnston raised another army as rapidly as he

could, and fortified or strongly intrenched at Corinth. He knew the

National troops were preparing to attack him in his chosen position.

But he had evidently become so disturbed at the results of his

operations that he resolved to strike out in an offensive campaign which

would restore all that was lost, and if successful accomplish still

more. We have the authority of his son and biographer for saying that

his plan was to attack the forces at Shiloh and crush them; then to

cross the Tennessee and destroy the army of Buell, and push the war

across the Ohio River. The design was a bold one; but we have the same

authority for saying that in the execution Johnston showed vacillation

and indecision. He left Corinth on the 2d of April and was not ready to

attack until the 6th. The distance his army had to march was less than

twenty miles. Beauregard, his second in command, was opposed to the

attack for two reasons: first, he thought, if let alone the National

troops would attack the Confederates in their intrenchments; second, we

were in ground of our own choosing and would necessarily be intrenched.

Johnston not only listened to the objection of Beauregard to an attack,

but held a council of war on the subject on the morning of the 5th. On

the evening of the same day he was in consultation with some of his

generals on the same subject, and still again on the morning of the 6th.

During this last consultation, and before a decision had been reached,

the battle began by the National troops opening fire on the enemy. This

seemed to settle the question as to whether there was to be any battle

of Shiloh. It also seems to me to settle the question as to whether

there was a surprise.

I do not question the personal courage of General Johnston, or his

ability. But he did not win the distinction predicted for him by many

of his friends. He did prove that as a general he was over-estimated.

General Beauregard was next in rank to Johnston and succeeded to the

command, which he retained to the close of the battle and during the

subsequent retreat on Corinth, as well as in the siege of that place.

His tactics have been severely criticised by Confederate writers, but I

do not believe his fallen chief could have done any better under the

circumstances. Some of these critics claim that Shiloh was won when

Johnston fell, and that if he had not fallen the army under me would

have been annihilated or captured. IFS defeated the Confederates at

Shiloh. There is little doubt that we would have been disgracefully

beaten IF all the shells and bullets fired by us had passed harmlessly

over the enemy and IF all of theirs had taken effect. Commanding

generals are liable to be killed during engagements; and the fact that

when he was shot Johnston was leading a brigade to induce it to make a

charge which had been repeatedly ordered, is evidence that there was

neither the universal demoralization on our side nor the unbounded

confidence on theirs which has been claimed. There was, in fact, no

hour during the day when I doubted the eventual defeat of the enemy,

although I was disappointed that reinforcements so near at hand did not

arrive at an earlier hour.

The description of the battle of Shiloh given by Colonel Wm. Preston

Johnston is very graphic and well told. The reader will imagine that he

can see each blow struck, a demoralized and broken mob of Union

soldiers, each blow sending the enemy more demoralized than ever towards

the Tennessee River, which was a little more than two miles away at the

beginning of the onset. If the reader does not stop to inquire why, with

such Confederate success for more than twelve hours of hard fighting,

the National troops were not all killed, captured or driven into the

river, he will regard the pen picture as perfect. But I witnessed the

fight from the National side from eight o'clock in the morning until

night closed the contest. I see but little in the description that I

can recognize. The Confederate troops fought well and deserve

commendation enough for their bravery and endurance on the 6th of April,

without detracting from their antagonists or claiming anything more than

their just dues.

The reports of the enemy show that their condition at the end of the

first day was deplorable; their losses in killed and wounded had been

very heavy, and their stragglers had been quite as numerous as on the

National side, with the difference that those of the enemy left the

field entirely and were not brought back to their respective commands

for many days. On the Union side but few of the stragglers fell back

further than the landing on the river, and many of these were in line

for duty on the second day. The admissions of the highest Confederate

officers engaged at Shiloh make the claim of a victory for them absurd.

The victory was not to either party until the battle was over. It was

then a Union victory, in which the Armies of the Tennessee and the Ohio

both participated. But the Army of the Tennessee fought the entire

rebel army on the 6th and held it at bay until near night; and night

alone closed the conflict and not the three regiments of Nelson's

division.

The Confederates fought with courage at Shiloh, but the particular skill

claimed I could not and still cannot see; though there is nothing to

criticise except the claims put forward for it since. But the

Confederate claimants for superiority in strategy, superiority in

generalship and superiority in dash and prowess are not so unjust to the

Union troops engaged at Shiloh as are many Northern writers. The troops

on both sides were American, and united they need not fear any foreign

foe. It is possible that the Southern man started in with a little more

dash than his Northern brother; but he was correspondingly less

enduring.

The endeavor of the enemy on the first day was simply to hurl their men

against ours--first at one point, then at another, sometimes at several

points at once. This they did with daring and energy, until at night

the rebel troops were worn out. Our effort during the same time was to

be prepared to resist assaults wherever made. The object of the

Confederates on the second day was to get away with as much of their

army and material as possible. Ours then was to drive them from our

front, and to capture or destroy as great a part as possible of their

men and material. We were successful in driving them back, but not so

successful in captures as if farther pursuit could have been made. As

it was, we captured or recaptured on the second day about as much

artillery as we lost on the first; and, leaving out the one great

capture of Prentiss, we took more prisoners on Monday than the enemy

gained from us on Sunday. On the 6th Sherman lost seven pieces of

artillery, McClernand six, Prentiss eight, and Hurlbut two batteries.

On the 7th Sherman captured seven guns, McClernand three and the Army of

the Ohio twenty.

At Shiloh the effective strength of the Union forces on the morning of

the 6th was 33,000 men. Lew. Wallace brought 5,000 more after

nightfall. Beauregard reported the enemy's strength at 40,955.

According to the custom of enumeration in the South, this number

probably excluded every man enlisted as musician or detailed as guard or

nurse, and all commissioned officers--everybody who did not carry a

musket or serve a cannon. With us everybody in the field receiving pay

from the government is counted. Excluding the troops who fled,

panic-stricken, before they had fired a shot, there was not a time

during the 6th when we had more than 25,000 men in line. On the 7th

Buell brought 20,000 more. Of his remaining two divisions, Thomas's did

not reach the field during the engagement; Wood's arrived before firing

had ceased, but not in time to be of much service.

Our loss in the two days' fight was 1,754 killed, 8,408 wounded and

2,885 missing. Of these, 2,103 were in the Army of the Ohio.

Beauregard reported a total loss of 10,699, of whom 1,728 were killed,

8,012 wounded and 957 missing. This estimate must be incorrect. We

buried, by actual count, more of the enemy's dead in front of the

divisions of McClernand and Sherman alone than here reported, and 4,000

was the estimate of the burial parties of the whole field. Beauregard

reports the Confederate force on the 6th at over 40,000, and their total

loss during the two days at 10,699; and at the same time declares that

he could put only 20,000 men in battle on the morning of the 7th.

The navy gave a hearty support to the army at Shiloh, as indeed it

always did both before and subsequently when I was in command. The

nature of the ground was such, however, that on this occasion it could

do nothing in aid of the troops until sundown on the first day. The

country was broken and heavily timbered, cutting off all view of the

battle from the river, so that friends would be as much in danger from

fire from the gunboats as the foe. But about sundown, when the National

troops were back in their last position, the right of the enemy was near

the river and exposed to the fire of the two gun-boats, which was

delivered with vigor and effect. After nightfall, when firing had

entirely ceased on land, the commander of the fleet informed himself,

approximately, of the position of our troops and suggested the idea of

dropping a shell within the lines of the enemy every fifteen minutes

during the night. This was done with effect, as is proved by the

Confederate reports.

Up to the battle of Shiloh I, as well as thousands of other citizens,

believed that the rebellion against the Government would collapse

suddenly and soon, if a decisive victory could be gained over any of its

armies. Donelson and Henry were such victories. An army of more than

21,000 men was captured or destroyed. Bowling Green, Columbus and

Hickman, Kentucky, fell in consequence, and Clarksville and Nashville,

Tennessee, the last two with an immense amount of stores, also fell into

our hands. The Tennessee and Cumberland rivers, from their mouths to

the head of navigation, were secured. But when Confederate armies were

collected which not only attempted to hold a line farther south, from

Memphis to Chattanooga, Knoxville and on to the Atlantic, but assumed

the offensive and made such a gallant effort to regain what had been

lost, then, indeed, I gave up all idea of saving the Union except by

complete conquest. Up to that time it had been the policy of our army,

certainly of that portion commanded by me, to protect the property of

the citizens whose territory was invaded, without regard to their

sentiments, whether Union or Secession. After this, however, I regarded

it as humane to both sides to protect the persons of those found at

their homes, but to consume everything that could be used to support or

supply armies. Protection was still continued over such supplies as

were within lines held by us and which we expected to continue to hold;

but such supplies within the reach of Confederate armies I regarded as

much contraband as arms or ordnance stores. Their destruction was

accomplished without bloodshed and tended to the same result as the

destruction of armies. I continued this policy to the close of the war.

Promiscuous pillaging, however, was discouraged and punished.

Instructions were always given to take provisions and forage under the

direction of commissioned officers who should give receipts to owners,

if at home, and turn the property over to officers of the quartermaster

or commissary departments to be issued as if furnished from our Northern

depots. But much was destroyed without receipts to owners, when it

could not be brought within our lines and would otherwise have gone to

the support of secession and rebellion.

This policy I believe exercised a material influence in hastening the

end.

The battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg landing, has been perhaps less

understood, or, to state the case more accurately, more persistently

misunderstood, than any other engagement between National and

Confederate troops during the entire rebellion. Correct reports of the

battle have been published, notably by Sherman, Badeau and, in a speech

before a meeting of veterans, by General Prentiss; but all of these

appeared long subsequent to the close of the rebellion and after public

opinion had been most erroneously formed.

I myself made no report to General Halleck, further than was contained

in a letter, written immediately after the battle informing him that an

engagement had been fought and announcing the result. A few days

afterwards General Halleck moved his headquarters to Pittsburg landing

and assumed command of the troops in the field. Although next to him in

rank, and nominally in command of my old district and army, I was

ignored as much as if I had been at the most distant point of territory

within my jurisdiction; and although I was in command of all the troops

engaged at Shiloh I was not permitted to see one of the reports of

General Buell or his subordinates in that battle, until they were

published by the War Department long after the event. For this reason I

never made a full official report of this engagement.

CHAPTER XXVI.

HALLECK ASSUMES COMMAND IN THE FIELD--THE ADVANCE UPON CORINTH

--OCCUPATION OF CORINTH--THE ARMY SEPARATED.

General Halleck arrived at Pittsburg landing on the 11th of April and

immediately assumed command in the field. On the 21st General Pope

arrived with an army 30,000 strong, fresh from the capture of Island

Number Ten in the Mississippi River. He went into camp at Hamburg

landing five miles above Pittsburg. Halleck had now three armies: the

Army of the Ohio, Buell commanding; the Army of the Mississippi, Pope

commanding; and the Army of the Tennessee. His orders divided the

combined force into the right wing, reserve, centre and left wing.

Major-General George H. Thomas, who had been in Buell's army, was

transferred with his division to the Army of the Tennessee and given

command of the right wing, composed of all of that army except

McClernand's and Lew. Wallace's divisions. McClernand was assigned to

the command of the reserve, composed of his own and Lew. Wallace's

divisions. Buell commanded the centre, the Army of the Ohio; and Pope

the left wing, the Army of the Mississippi. I was named second in

command of the whole, and was also supposed to be in command of the

right wing and reserve.

Orders were given to all the commanders engaged at Shiloh to send in

their reports without delay to department headquarters. Those from

officers of the Army of the Tennessee were sent through me; but from the

Army of the Ohio they were sent by General Buell without passing through

my hands. General Halleck ordered me, verbally, to send in my report,

but I positively declined on the ground that he had received the reports

of a part of the army engaged at Shiloh without their coming through me.

He admitted that my refusal was justifiable under the circumstances, but

explained that he had wanted to get the reports off before moving the

command, and as fast as a report had come to him he had forwarded it to

Washington.

Preparations were at once made upon the arrival of the new commander for

an advance on Corinth. Owl Creek, on our right, was bridged, and

expeditions were sent to the north-west and west to ascertain if our

position was being threatened from those quarters; the roads towards

Corinth were corduroyed and new ones made; lateral roads were also

constructed, so that in case of necessity troops marching by different

routes could reinforce each other. All commanders were cautioned

against bringing on an engagement and informed in so many words that it

would be better to retreat than to fight. By the 30th of April all

preparations were complete; the country west to the Mobile and Ohio

railroad had been reconnoitred, as well as the road to Corinth as far as

Monterey twelve miles from Pittsburg. Everywhere small bodies of the

enemy had been encountered, but they were observers and not in force to

fight battles.

Corinth, Mississippi, lies in a south-westerly direction from Pittsburg

landing and about nineteen miles away as the bird would fly, but

probably twenty-two by the nearest wagon-road. It is about four miles

south of the line dividing the States of Tennessee and Mississippi, and

at the junction of the Mississippi and Chattanooga railroad with the

Mobile and Ohio road which runs from Columbus to Mobile. From Pittsburg

to Corinth the land is rolling, but at no point reaching an elevation

that makes high hills to pass over. In 1862 the greater part of the

country was covered with forest with intervening clearings and houses.

Underbrush was dense in the low grounds along the creeks and ravines,

but generally not so thick on the high land as to prevent men passing

through with ease. There are two small creeks running from north of the

town and connecting some four miles south, where they form Bridge Creek

which empties into the Tuscumbia River. Corinth is on the ridge between

these streams and is a naturally strong defensive position. The creeks

are insignificant in volume of water, but the stream to the east widens

out in front of the town into a swamp impassable in the presence of an

enemy. On the crest of the west bank of this stream the enemy was

strongly intrenched.

Corinth was a valuable strategic point for the enemy to hold, and

consequently a valuable one for us to possess ourselves of. We ought to

have seized it immediately after the fall of Donelson and Nashville,

when it could have been taken without a battle, but failing then it

should have been taken, without delay on the concentration of troops at

Pittsburg landing after the battle of Shiloh. In fact the arrival of

Pope should not have been awaited. There was no time from the battle of

Shiloh up to the evacuation of Corinth when the enemy would not have

left if pushed. The demoralization among the Confederates from their

defeats at Henry and Donelson; their long marches from Bowling Green,

Columbus, and Nashville, and their failure at Shiloh; in fact from

having been driven out of Kentucky and Tennessee, was so great that a

stand for the time would have been impossible. Beauregard made

strenuous efforts to reinforce himself and partially succeeded. He

appealed to the people of the South-west for new regiments, and received

a few. A. S. Johnston had made efforts to reinforce in the same

quarter, before the battle of Shiloh, but in a different way. He had

negroes sent out to him to take the place of teamsters, company cooks

and laborers in every capacity, so as to put all his white men into the

ranks. The people, while willing to send their sons to the field, were

not willing to part with their negroes. It is only fair to state that

they probably wanted their blacks to raise supplies for the army and for

the families left at home.

Beauregard, however, was reinforced by Van Dorn immediately after Shiloh

with 17,000 men. Interior points, less exposed, were also depleted to

add to the strength at Corinth. With these reinforcements and the new

regiments, Beauregard had, during the month of May, 1862, a large force

on paper, but probably not much over 50,000 effective men. We estimated

his strength at 70,000. Our own was, in round numbers, 120,000. The

defensible nature of the ground at Corinth, and the fortifications, made

50,000 then enough to maintain their position against double that number

for an indefinite time but for the demoralization spoken of.

On the 30th of April the grand army commenced its advance from Shiloh

upon Corinth. The movement was a siege from the start to the close.

The National troops were always behind intrenchments, except of course

the small reconnoitring parties sent to the front to clear the way for

an advance. Even the commanders of these parties were cautioned, "not

to bring on an engagement." "It is better to retreat than to fight."

The enemy were constantly watching our advance, but as they were simply

observers there were but few engagements that even threatened to become

battles. All the engagements fought ought to have served to encourage

the enemy. Roads were again made in our front, and again corduroyed; a

line was intrenched, and the troops were advanced to the new position.

Cross roads were constructed to these new positions to enable the troops

to concentrate in case of attack. The National armies were thoroughly

intrenched all the way from the Tennessee River to Corinth.

For myself I was little more than an observer. Orders were sent direct

to the right wing or reserve, ignoring me, and advances were made from

one line of intrenchments to another without notifying me. My position

was so embarrassing in fact that I made several applications during the

siege to be relieved.

General Halleck kept his headquarters generally, if not all the time,

with the right wing. Pope being on the extreme left did not see so much

of his chief, and consequently got loose as it were at times. On the 3d

of May he was at Seven Mile Creek with the main body of his command, but

threw forward a division to Farmington, within four miles of Corinth.

His troops had quite a little engagement at Farmington on that day, but

carried the place with considerable loss to the enemy. There would then

have been no difficulty in advancing the centre and right so as to form

a new line well up to the enemy, but Pope was ordered back to conform

with the general line. On the 8th of May he moved again, taking his

whole force to Farmington, and pushed out two divisions close to the

rebel line. Again he was ordered back. By the 4th of May the centre

and right wing reached Monterey, twelve miles out. Their advance was

slow from there, for they intrenched with every forward movement. The

left wing moved up again on the 25th of May and intrenched itself close

to the enemy. The creek with the marsh before described, separated the

two lines. Skirmishers thirty feet apart could have maintained either

line at this point.

Our centre and right were, at this time, extended so that the right of

the right wing was probably five miles from Corinth and four from the

works in their front. The creek, which was a formidable obstacle for

either side to pass on our left, became a very slight obstacle on our

right. Here the enemy occupied two positions. One of them, as much as

two miles out from his main line, was on a commanding elevation and

defended by an intrenched battery with infantry supports. A heavy wood

intervened between this work and the National forces. In rear to the

south there was a clearing extending a mile or more, and south of this

clearing a log-house which had been loop-holed and was occupied by

infantry. Sherman's division carried these two positions with some loss

to himself, but with probably greater to the enemy, on the 28th of May,

and on that day the investment of Corinth was complete, or as complete

as it was ever made. Thomas' right now rested west of the Mobile and

Ohio railroad. Pope's left commanded the Memphis and Charleston railroad

east of Corinth.

Some days before I had suggested to the commanding general that I

thought if he would move the Army of the Mississippi at night, by the

rear of the centre and right, ready to advance at daylight, Pope would

find no natural obstacle in his front and, I believed, no serious

artificial one. The ground, or works, occupied by our left could be

held by a thin picket line, owing to the stream and swamp in front. To

the right the troops would have a dry ridge to march over. I was

silenced so quickly that I felt that possibly I had suggested an

unmilitary movement.

Later, probably on the 28th of May, General Logan, whose command was

then on the Mobile and Ohio railroad, said to me that the enemy had been

evacuating for several days and that if allowed he could go into Corinth

with his brigade. Trains of cars were heard coming in and going out of

Corinth constantly. Some of the men who had been engaged in various

capacities on railroads before the war claimed that they could tell, by

putting their ears to the rail, not only which way the trains were

moving but which trains were loaded and which were empty. They said

loaded trains had been going out for several days and empty ones coming

in. Subsequent events proved the correctness of their judgment.

Beauregard published his orders for the evacuation of Corinth on the

26th of May and fixed the 29th for the departure of his troops, and on

the 30th of May General Halleck had his whole army drawn up prepared for

battle and announced in orders that there was every indication that our

left was to be attacked that morning. Corinth had already been

evacuated and the National troops marched on and took possession without

opposition. Everything had been destroyed or carried away. The

Confederate commander had instructed his soldiers to cheer on the

arrival of every train to create the impression among the Yankees that

reinforcements were arriving. There was not a sick or wounded man left

by the Confederates, nor stores of any kind. Some ammunition had been

blown up--not removed--but the trophies of war were a few Quaker guns,

logs of about the diameter of ordinary cannon, mounted on wheels of

wagons and pointed in the most threatening manner towards us.

The possession of Corinth by the National troops was of strategic

importance, but the victory was barren in every other particular. It

was nearly bloodless. It is a question whether the MORALE of the

Confederate troops engaged at Corinth was not improved by the immunity

with which they were permitted to remove all public property and then

withdraw themselves. On our side I know officers and men of the Army of

the Tennessee--and I presume the same is true of those of the other

commands--were disappointed at the result. They could not see how the

mere occupation of places was to close the war while large and effective

rebel armies existed. They believed that a well-directed attack would

at least have partially destroyed the army defending Corinth. For

myself I am satisfied that Corinth could have been captured in a two

days' campaign commenced promptly on the arrival of reinforcements after

the battle of Shiloh.

General Halleck at once commenced erecting fortifications around Corinth

on a scale to indicate that this one point must be held if it took the

whole National army to do it. All commanding points two or three miles

to the south, south-east and south-west were strongly fortified. It was

expected in case of necessity to connect these forts by rifle-pits.

They were laid out on a scale that would have required 100,000 men to

fully man them. It was probably thought that a final battle of the war

would be fought at that point. These fortifications were never used.

Immediately after the occupation of Corinth by the National troops,

General Pope was sent in pursuit of the retreating garrison and General

Buell soon followed. Buell was the senior of the two generals and

commanded the entire column. The pursuit was kept up for some thirty

miles, but did not result in the capture of any material of war or

prisoners, unless a few stragglers who had fallen behind and were

willing captives. On the 10th of June the pursuing column was all back

at Corinth. The Army of the Tennessee was not engaged in any of these

movements.

The Confederates were now driven out of West Tennessee, and on the 6th

of June, after a well-contested naval battle, the National forces took

possession of Memphis and held the Mississippi river from its source to

that point. The railroad from Columbus to Corinth was at once put in

good condition and held by us. We had garrisons at Donelson,

Clarksville and Nashville, on the Cumberland River, and held the

Tennessee River from its mouth to Eastport. New Orleans and Baton Rouge

had fallen into the possession of the National forces, so that now the

Confederates at the west were narrowed down for all communication with

Richmond to the single line of road running east from Vicksburg. To

dispossess them of this, therefore, became a matter of the first

importance. The possession of the Mississippi by us from Memphis to

Baton Rouge was also a most important object. It would be equal to the

amputation of a limb in its weakening effects upon the enemy.

After the capture of Corinth a movable force of 80,000 men, besides

enough to hold all the territory acquired, could have been set in motion

for the accomplishment of any great campaign for the suppression of the

rebellion. In addition to this fresh troops were being raised to swell

the effective force. But the work of depletion commenced. Buell with

the Army of the Ohio was sent east, following the line of the Memphis

and Charleston railroad. This he was ordered to repair as he advanced

--only to have it destroyed by small guerilla bands or other troops as

soon as he was out of the way. If he had been sent directly to

Chattanooga as rapidly as he could march, leaving two or three divisions

along the line of the railroad from Nashville forward, he could have

arrived with but little fighting, and would have saved much of the loss

of life which was afterwards incurred in gaining Chattanooga. Bragg

would then not have had time to raise an army to contest the possession

of middle and east Tennessee and Kentucky; the battles of Stone River

and Chickamauga would not necessarily have been fought; Burnside would

not have been besieged in Knoxville without the power of helping himself

or escaping; the battle of Chattanooga would not have been fought.

These are the negative advantages, if the term negative is applicable,

which would probably have resulted from prompt movements after Corinth

fell into the possession of the National forces. The positive results

might have been: a bloodless advance to Atlanta, to Vicksburg, or to

any other desired point south of Corinth in the interior of Mississippi.

CHAPTER XXVII.

HEADQUARTERS MOVED TO MEMPHIS--ON THE ROAD TO MEMPHIS--ESCAPING JACKSON

--COMPLAINTS AND REQUESTS--HALLECK APPOINTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF--RETURN

TO CORINTH--MOVEMENTS OF BRAGG--SURRENDER OF CLARKSVILLE--THE ADVANCE

UPON CHATTANOOGA--SHERIDAN COLONEL OF A MICHIGAN REGIMENT.

My position at Corinth, with a nominal command and yet no command,

became so unbearable that I asked permission of Halleck to remove my

headquarters to Memphis. I had repeatedly asked, between the fall of

Donelson and the evacuation of Corinth, to be relieved from duty under

Halleck; but all my applications were refused until the occupation of

the town. I then obtained permission to leave the department, but

General Sherman happened to call on me as I was about starting and urged

me so strongly not to think of going, that I concluded to remain. My

application to be permitted to remove my headquarters to Memphis was,

however, approved, and on the 21st of June I started for that point with

my staff and a cavalry escort of only a part of one company. There was

a detachment of two or three companies going some twenty-five miles west

to be stationed as a guard to the railroad. I went under cover of this

escort to the end of their march, and the next morning proceeded to La

Grange with no convoy but the few cavalry men I had with me.

From La Grange to Memphis the distance is forty-seven miles. There were

no troops stationed between these two points, except a small force

guarding a working party which was engaged in repairing the railroad.

Not knowing where this party would be found I halted at La Grange.

General Hurlbut was in command there at the time and had his

headquarters tents pitched on the lawn of a very commodious country

house. The proprietor was at home and, learning of my arrival, he

invited General Hurlbut and me to dine with him. I accepted the

invitation and spent a very pleasant afternoon with my host, who was a

thorough Southern gentleman fully convinced of the justice of secession.

After dinner, seated in the capacious porch, he entertained me with a

recital of the services he was rendering the cause. He was too old to

be in the ranks himself--he must have been quite seventy then--but his

means enabled him to be useful in other ways. In ordinary times the

homestead where he was now living produced the bread and meat to supply

the slaves on his main plantation, in the low-lands of Mississippi. Now

he raised food and forage on both places, and thought he would have that

year a surplus sufficient to feed three hundred families of poor men who

had gone into the war and left their families dependent upon the

"patriotism" of those better off. The crops around me looked fine, and

I had at the moment an idea that about the time they were ready to be

gathered the "Yankee" troops would be in the neighborhood and harvest

them for the benefit of those engaged in the suppression of the

rebellion instead of its support. I felt, however, the greatest respect

for the candor of my host and for his zeal in a cause he thoroughly

believed in, though our views were as wide apart as it is possible to

conceive.

The 23d of June, 1862, on the road from La Grange to Memphis was very

warm, even for that latitude and season. With my staff and small escort

I started at an early hour, and before noon we arrived within twenty

miles of Memphis. At this point I saw a very comfortable-looking

white-haired gentleman seated at the front of his house, a little

distance from the road. I let my staff and escort ride ahead while I

halted and, for an excuse, asked for a glass of water. I was invited at

once to dismount and come in. I found my host very genial and

communicative, and staid longer than I had intended, until the lady of

the house announced dinner and asked me to join them. The host,

however, was not pressing, so that I declined the invitation and,

mounting my horse, rode on.

About a mile west from where I had been stopping a road comes up from

the southeast, joining that from La Grange to Memphis. A mile west of

this junction I found my staff and escort halted and enjoying the shade

of forest trees on the lawn of a house located several hundred feet back

from the road, their horses hitched to the fence along the line of the

road. I, too, stopped and we remained there until the cool of the

afternoon, and then rode into Memphis.

The gentleman with whom I had stopped twenty miles from Memphis was a

Mr. De Loche, a man loyal to the Union. He had not pressed me to tarry

longer with him because in the early part of my visit a neighbor, a Dr.

Smith, had called and, on being presented to me, backed off the porch as

if something had hit him. Mr. De Loche knew that the rebel General

Jackson was in that neighborhood with a detachment of cavalry. His

neighbor was as earnest in the southern cause as was Mr. De Loche in

that of the Union. The exact location of Jackson was entirely unknown

to Mr. De Loche; but he was sure that his neighbor would know it and

would give information of my presence, and this made my stay unpleasant

to him after the call of Dr. Smith.

I have stated that a detachment of troops was engaged in guarding

workmen who were repairing the railroad east of Memphis. On the day I

entered Memphis, Jackson captured a small herd of beef cattle which had

been sent east for the troops so engaged. The drovers were not enlisted

men and he released them. A day or two after one of these drovers came

to my headquarters and, relating the circumstances of his capture, said

Jackson was very much disappointed that he had not captured me; that he

was six or seven miles south of the Memphis and Charleston railroad when

he learned that I was stopping at the house of Mr. De Loche, and had

ridden with his command to the junction of the road he was on with that

from La Grange and Memphis, where he learned that I had passed

three-quarters of an hour before. He thought it would be useless to

pursue with jaded horses a well-mounted party with so much of a start.

Had he gone three-quarters of a mile farther he would have found me with

my party quietly resting under the shade of trees and without even arms

in our hands with which to defend ourselves.

General Jackson of course did not communicate his disappointment at not

capturing me to a prisoner, a young drover; but from the talk among the

soldiers the facts related were learned. A day or two later Mr. De

Loche called on me in Memphis to apologize for his apparent incivility

in not insisting on my staying for dinner. He said that his wife

accused him of marked discourtesy, but that, after the call of his

neighbor, he had felt restless until I got away. I never met General

Jackson before the war, nor during it, but have met him since at his

very comfortable summer home at Manitou Springs, Colorado. I reminded

him of the above incident, and this drew from him the response that he

was thankful now he had not captured me. I certainly was very thankful

too.

My occupation of Memphis as district headquarters did not last long.

The period, however, was marked by a few incidents which were novel to

me. Up to that time I had not occupied any place in the South where the

citizens were at home in any great numbers. Dover was within the

fortifications at Fort Donelson, and, as far as I remember, every

citizen was gone. There were no people living at Pittsburg landing, and

but very few at Corinth. Memphis, however, was a populous city, and

there were many of the citizens remaining there who were not only

thoroughly impressed with the justice of their cause, but who thought

that even the "Yankee soldiery" must entertain the same views if they

could only be induced to make an honest confession. It took hours of my

time every day to listen to complaints and requests. The latter were

generally reasonable, and if so they were granted; but the complaints

were not always, or even often, well founded. Two instances will mark

the general character. First: the officer who commanded at Memphis

immediately after the city fell into the hands of the National troops

had ordered one of the churches of the city to be opened to the

soldiers. Army chaplains were authorized to occupy the pulpit. Second:

at the beginning of the war the Confederate Congress had passed a law

confiscating all property of "alien enemies" at the South, including the

debts of Southerners to Northern men. In consequence of this law, when

Memphis was occupied the provost-marshal had forcibly collected all the

evidences he could obtain of such debts.

Almost the first complaints made to me were these two outrages. The

gentleman who made the complaints informed me first of his own high

standing as a lawyer, a citizen and a Christian. He was a deacon in the

church which had been defiled by the occupation of Union troops, and by

a Union chaplain filling the pulpit. He did not use the word "defile,"

but he expressed the idea very clearly. He asked that the church be

restored to the former congregation. I told him that no order had been

issued prohibiting the congregation attending the church. He said of

course the congregation could not hear a Northern clergyman who differed

so radically with them on questions of government. I told him the

troops would continue to occupy that church for the present, and that

they would not be called upon to hear disloyal sentiments proclaimed

from the pulpit. This closed the argument on the first point.

Then came the second. The complainant said that he wanted the papers

restored to him which had been surrendered to the provost-marshal under

protest; he was a lawyer, and before the establishment of the

"Confederate States Government" had been the attorney for a number of

large business houses at the North; that "his government" had

confiscated all debts due "alien enemies," and appointed commissioners,

or officers, to collect such debts and pay them over to the

"government": but in his case, owing to his high standing, he had been

permitted to hold these claims for collection, the responsible officials

knowing that he would account to the "government" for every dollar

received. He said that his "government," when it came in possession of

all its territory, would hold him personally responsible for the claims

he had surrendered to the provost-marshal. His impudence was so sublime

that I was rather amused than indignant. I told him, however, that if

he would remain in Memphis I did not believe the Confederate government

would ever molest him. He left, no doubt, as much amazed at my

assurance as I was at the brazenness of his request.

On the 11th of July General Halleck received telegraphic orders

appointing him to the command of all the armies, with headquarters in

Washington. His instructions pressed him to proceed to his new field of

duty with as little delay as was consistent with the safety and

interests of his previous command. I was next in rank, and he

telegraphed me the same day to report at department headquarters at

Corinth. I was not informed by the dispatch that my chief had been

ordered to a different field and did not know whether to move my

headquarters or not. I telegraphed asking if I was to take my staff

with me, and received word in reply: "This place will be your

headquarters. You can judge for yourself." I left Memphis for my new

field without delay, and reached Corinth on the 15th of the month.

General Halleck remained until the 17th of July; but he was very

uncommunicative, and gave me no information as to what I had been called

to Corinth for.

When General Halleck left to assume the duties of general-in-chief I

remained in command of the district of West Tennessee. Practically I

became a department commander, because no one was assigned to that

position over me and I made my reports direct to the general-in-chief;

but I was not assigned to the position of department commander until the

25th of October. General Halleck while commanding the Department of the

Mississippi had had control as far east as a line drawn from Chattanooga

north. My district only embraced West Tennessee and Kentucky west of

the Cumberland River. Buell, with the Army of the Ohio, had, as

previously stated, been ordered east towards Chattanooga, with

instructions to repair the Memphis and Charleston railroad as he

advanced. Troops had been sent north by Halleck along the line of the

Mobile and Ohio railroad to put it in repair as far as Columbus. Other

troops were stationed on the railroad from Jackson, Tennessee, to Grand

Junction, and still others on the road west to Memphis.

The remainder of the magnificent army of 120,000 men which entered

Corinth on the 30th of May had now become so scattered that I was put

entirely on the defensive in a territory whose population was hostile to

the Union. One of the first things I had to do was to construct

fortifications at Corinth better suited to the garrison that could be

spared to man them. The structures that had been built during the

months of May and June were left as monuments to the skill of the

engineer, and others were constructed in a few days, plainer in design

but suited to the command available to defend them.

I disposed the troops belonging to the district in conformity with the

situation as rapidly as possible. The forces at Donelson, Clarksville

and Nashville, with those at Corinth and along the railroad eastward, I

regarded as sufficient for protection against any attack from the west.

The Mobile and Ohio railroad was guarded from Rienzi, south of Corinth,

to Columbus; and the Mississippi Central railroad from Jackson,

Tennessee, to Bolivar. Grand Junction and La Grange on the Memphis

railroad were abandoned.