Read Ebook: With Grant at Fort Donelson Shiloh and Vicksburg and an appreciation of General U. S. Grant by Crummer Wilbur F Wilbur Fisk

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And an Appreciation of General U. S. Grant

Table of Contents

Pages

Fort Henry 11-23

Fort Donelson 25-47

Shiloh 49-90

Vicksburg 91-171

Appreciation of General U. S. Grant 173-190

Pages

FOREWORD

In this year of 1915, when the sounds of battle and strife come wafted to us across the sea from Europe, the younger generation are asking questions of the Veterans of the Civil War about their experiences in battle.

Formerly I lived in Galena, Ill., and having been personally acquainted with, and a neighbor of General U. S. Grant, and one of the "Boys in Blue" who followed him in the battles of Fort Donelson, Shiloh and Vicksburg, I deem it my privilege to add my mite to the history that clusters round the greatest military genius of modern times.

To please many friends who have heard my lectures on the Civil War, and at the request of my children, the following pages have been written, from data made at the time and since, and from a vivid memory of the stirring days of 1862 and 1863.

WILBUR F. CRUMMER.

Oak Park, Ill., June 14, 1915.

FORT HENRY

"Say, Will, did you see that one as it crossed the line just now?"

"No, Jim; how can a feller see anything this dark night?"

"Well, he ran right by me, and I think he was as big as our dog, Rover, at home. Isn't it a beastly shame that orders are so strict about shooting while on guard? I'd like to have shot that fellow for sure."

"Never mind, Jim; you'll have enough of shooting before this war is over, I'm thinking, for I feel it in my bones that Gen. Grant is getting ready to start something in the way of fighting, for I've seen him two or three times, and he looks to me as though he was a fighter."

"Well, old scout, anything but this kind of soldiering."

The conversation was between two young soldier boys of Company A, 45th Illinois Volunteers, while on guard duty around camp in the month of January, 1862, at Cairo, Illinois, on one of the darkest and rainiest nights they ever saw. The "It" was a calf that in crossing the path had startled Jim so much he was tempted to shoot it. As the two neighbor boys, just from the farm in Northern Illinois, trudged back and forth on their posts through the deepest and blackest mud they had ever seen, they stopped at the end of their "beat" as they met, and talked for a few moments of home and the loved ones left behind; of camp and its arduous duties, of drilling and guard duty, and then of what would be the next move. The American Volunteers always kept up a "think" or two in their heads as to what would and should be done in fighting the battles for the Union.

"Will, I hope we won't have to stay here long."

"You bet we won't" responds Will. "Grant has got something up his sleeve and we'll be moving before long, take my word for it."

Will was right. In a few days a large number of steamboats gathered at the wharf, and were being loaded with ammunition, commissary stores and all the needed accessories of an army, and then the day came to break camp and the boys marched on the boats, wondering which way the boats would head out in the river.

On February 4th, 1862, the boats are loaded to the guards and the order is given, and with Gen. Grant leading the way, the boats steam out into the Ohio and start upstream.

Will and Jim were packed on the upper deck of the steamer "City of Memphis" like a box of sardines with their comrades. While the day lasted the boys feasted their eyes on the scenery from either side and enjoyed the first steamboat ride of their lives.

At night they spread their blankets on the deck and laid down to dream of home, but before going to sleep, they had a "talk-fest," as they called it, Jim thinking they must be going to Cincinnati. But Will thought different, and said: "I don't know where we'll land, but I'll bet a hard tack it will be down south somewhere among the secesh."

The next morning when they awoke they found themselves, not on the Ohio, but on the Tennessee river headed down South. "What did I tell you last night, Jim, that we were going to land somewhere in Dixie."

"Say, Will, are you in close touch with Grant that you know what he's going to do?"

"No, but what's a feller got a 'bean' on top of his body, if it isn't to think a little and reason things out somewhat?"

During the day our boat tied up at a landing for the purpose of loading up with cord wood for fuel. Permission was given to the boys to go ashore and stretch their legs. There was a large warehouse there, stored with merchandise. The owner at once secured a guard to be placed over some barrels of whiskey. In every company there were men who liked strong drinks, and in prowling around they spied these barrels of whiskey, and ways and means were at once started to get some of the fiery stuff. One of the soldiers was directed to go near one of the barrels and while talking with the guard to let his gun drop on the floor, the man underneath would note where the gun struck the floor by the dust loosened up, and the man who had let his gun drop came down and directed just where the end of the barrel of whiskey would be. An auger was procured and a hole was bored through the floor into the barrel of whiskey. The boys stood ready with their canteens and caught the precious stuff as it came down. Not long after quite a number of the soldiers were making merry and showing certain signs of being under the influence of liquor. The officers were puzzled as to how the men secured the liquor and rushed to the guard, accusing him of his failure to properly guard his charge. He denied strenuously that he had permitted any one to touch the barrels. One of the officers leaned against one of the barrels and being empty it toppled over, and the cat was out of the bag. The guard was exonerated, but some of the soldiers who had taken too much of the stuff for their good were arrested and punished. The plotters, however, were not discovered. It is a strange fact that those who liked the fiery liquid, could smell out where it was located and use the most curious ways to obtain it.

On February 6, 1862, in the afternoon, we landed on the eastern bank of the river, and the soldiers were located in camps near by. This being our first camp in Dixie, it was called "Camp Halleck." How it did rain that night and blow, leveling many of our tents.

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

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

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

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

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

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

FORT DONELSON

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

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

About noon our General, W. H. L. Wallace, sent the 48th Illinois to attack what looked like a small redoubt to the left and front of us. This regiment gallantly attacked and fought desperately for some time, but losing their Colonel, they fell back, and then Gen. Wallace ordered the 45th Illinois to go to their aid. Now the time had come for us to show what stuff we were made of; now had come the time to do what we had promised our loved ones at home--to fight gallantly for the dear old flag. The orders of our Colonel were:

When we got close enough the order to fire was given, and we boys sent our first lead into the enemy who showed themselves on top of the breastwork. The firing on both sides was brisk, but our Colonel would not let the men advance any farther. He knew we could not climb over the trench in front of the breastworks and scale the works. We fought an hour at great disadvantage, when the order was given to slowly retire. We had smelt powder for the first time and had heard the whiz of the minie-ball, many of our brave comrades making the greatest sacrifice a man can make for his country. They had given their lives for the flag.

For the interest of my young readers, I must tell you about Captain Johnston's little boy, Master James Vincent Johnston, aged about 8 years at the time. Captain Johnston's wife and little boy were visiting him on the gunboat when the enemy opened fire from an unseen battery on the shore. The Captain had tied the boy by his mother's side in one of the cabins, but he succeeded in untying himself and ran off among the gunners, where he seemed to take great delight during the excitement. Presently the Captain came along and met the little fellow carrying a pouch of powder. His father was surprised, and asked him where he got his load. The child answered:

"Why, Tommy had his head shotted off over there an' I'm carrying the powder," and he ran to the gun carrying his load.

The Captain let him have his way and little Jimmy was the hero of the battle, and the sailors called him "Admiral Jimmie."

After the unsuccessful attack on the fort we again took our places in the line with our brigade. During the night the cold was intense and the men suffered much; some perished, icicles hanging from the caps of the sentinels. Our grub at this time was very scarce. We learned better later on in the war to always carry a good supply of hard tack in our haversacks for just such emergencies.

Towards evening some prisoners were captured and were taken to General Grant, who examined their haversacks and found them well filled with rations. The General reasoned from this fact, that the enemy were preparing to make their escape, which they did try to do the next day.

Soon after dark some of us were detailed to dig trenches and assist in erecting breastworks for the artillery. The Seventh Corporal was detailed to take charge of the squad, but it being so bitter cold he feigned sickness and turned the squad over to Will. He took his place and did the best he could, getting no sleep at all during the night. The next morning Jim asked Will how he liked his job. "Oh," said Will, "the job was all right, but I'll tell you, Jim, I think less of that Seventh Corporal than I did before, because of that little trick of his."

During the night the Confederate Generals held a council of war and decided to mass their troops on our right the next morning, and cut their way out and escape.

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