The Shiloh Series: Books 1-3

by Phillip Bryant

  Lieutenant Hoff returned from his errand and reported the water to be drinkable, breaking Michael out of his reverie.

  “Dispatch men from each company to fetch canteens and water and send them one company at a time,” Rogers ordered.

  Michael acknowledged the order with a salute and turned on his heel. Calling the company commanders to him, he relayed the orders, then dismissed them. Brooding on the events of the day, Michael waited for his friend to return. He’d only been doing what he was supposed to, attack the enemy. If Rogers couldn’t keep up or led his wing in a different direction, was that Michael’s fault?

  “Your company fared well today,” Michael said to Wyrich.

  “Few wounded; some come back already, though don’t know how they found us in the dark.”

  “Helps to have been here before.”

  “They report the men were taken back to Ripley; painful trip in an ambulance.”

  “When they move us, find the ammunition train and get your men replenished. Will be a big fight tomorrow,” Michael said.

  “Word has it the colonel was pretty hot about the battalion drifting so,” Wyrich said as he rubbed the back of his hand over his brow.

  “It happens. We took that camp, but it did make Rogers look a little foolish with the general,” Michael conceded. “Payback for the upbraiding he gave me.”

  “He say anything?”

  “It’ll be irons if I let it happen again,” Michael said wryly. “We have a chain of command; we got carried away an’ drifted too far for support.”

  “The 25th Mississippi drifted; we kept in contact with them,” Wyrich added.

  Michael shrugged. “Now Rogers has something else to ply against me.”

  Wyrich nodded and was silent a moment before asking, “What you think of the prospects? We caught Rosecrans this time. Iuka was a surprise, but this is his downfall, no?”

  “Didn’t we think we had Grant just the same?”

  Wyrich pondered a moment. “Can’t see how Rosecrans is going to get out of this one. Nowhere to run and no army to come to his rescue.”

  For a few hours at least, the mood in the camp was of tired elation. The enemy was falling back and entirely alone. The railroad was under Confederate control from the north, and the enemy was not receiving reinforcements from the east along the Mobile line as, having already abandoned Iuka to the east, he did not have any forces in that direction. General Ord’s Army of the Tennessee was more than a day’s march from Bolivar by road. All that remained was to crush Rosecrans’s Army of the Mississippi at daylight and all would be over.

  As the Texans of the 2nd stacked arms and rested in line, hurried conferences went on at the Curlee House.

  General Price and his staff arrived in the pitch black and wound their way toward the house, pleased that they would perhaps enjoy another stroll in the sweet smell of the gardens. General Van Dorn was not yet on the field and Price’s legions had done well, as in the estimation of their general they always did. But the gardens were a wreck, not just from the earlier fighting but from neglect. The inhabitants had fled with the retreating army, and the house stood empty but for squatters who left in a hurry when the artillery rounds began falling around it. Even so, it was still a house and as suitable a place as any for a headquarters. The enemy guns were out of range now, and the orderlies and subalterns were busily lighting lamps, clearing tables and desks of clutter, and preparing orders for the coming day. Until Van Dorn arrived, there’d be little to do but see to Price’s own army.

  Sterling Price was a man of stern features and rough background. He’d a long military career before the war, starting in the Mexican-American War, and a long political career in Missouri politics. He was also schooled in the Kansas and Missouri guerrilla war waged between slavers and abolitionists for Kansas Territory’s right to join the Union as a free state. Ole “Pap” had led several militia regiments into Kansas at the war’s inception and reluctantly fled the state as Union Major Nathaniel Lyon secured St. Louis for the Union; and its state government, proslavery men, fled into Arkansas. Early skirmishes along the Kansas and Missouri border before the Confederacy could organize itself ended in defeats for the pro-Southern forces, and those who refused to leave joined the likes of Bloody Bill Anderson and Quantrill to carry on the brutal internecine pro- and anti-Union fight of its citizens. Today Price was far away from his home but relishing the victory.

  The brigade commanders were busily tallying reports and fixing themselves on the map so an accurate view of where the army was could be had. At least Moore’s brigade and Phifer’s were deployed at right angles to the Memphis road facing east, but the enemy had retreated south into the Corinth inner defenses. This left both brigades isolated and facing the wrong way. Price watched as one of his aides drew the positions of the enemy as they were known. The presence of the gun emplacements drew his attention. They were fixed upon ridges and high ground that commanded the railroads and the Purdy, Pittsburg, Memphis, and Chewallah roads as they converged on the town.

  “Rosecrans didn’t game on defending a wide line; he’s left it all for us to concentrate on any point. No other fortifications?” Price asked.

  “They’ve been erecting barricades of cotton and anything else they can lay hands on, but no fortifications other than these battery positions. They expected to defend right into the town. They don’t have force enough to occupy a wider line, and the ground isn’t really conducive for a wider defense,” Lieutenant Richard Morrison replied. Morrison had just joined Price’s staff beginning of September and was still adjusting to the commanding generals rapid fire questions that Price demanded quick answers to.

  “What guns? Heavy, light?”

  “Twenty-pounder Parrott rifles mostly, long-range guns. They’ll deploy their smaller guns out in the open along these ridges here.” Morrison drew a hand across the south end of the town. “But the forest runs clear to their battery emplacements, giving us good ground to marshal without being seen or fired upon, especially here,” he pointed to a spot on the northwest part of the town where a battery sat on a hill, “and here.” He pointed to a place three hundred yards to the east.

  “He’s drawn himself up into a tight little circle.”

  The town of Corinth was a compact placement of buildings and houses that formed a rectangle with one end sliced off as if by scissors. Around this the enemy was concentrating advantageously. Along any point Rosecrans could call upon any battery or regiment and move it quickly from one end to another.

  “We’ll see what advice our scouts bring from the picket lines later on once they settle in. They still pulling regiments back. We can march along the Chewallah and Memphis roads and deploy all along these woods here, and do it in compact lines of advance. They will be in the open or behind these barricades along these streets in the town, but once we get in close, the outcome will be by force of numbers.” Price stated then paused. “Have the divisions reported their dispositions?”

  “We’re doing that now, General. We have the returns for Maury’s division now. He’s concentrated just along the Memphis road and between the Chewallah and O and M rail line here, along this little valley here.” Morrison replied uneasily; it wasn’t entirely up to him to force the commanders to turn in their returns in a timely manner, but Price didn’t care about why information wasn’t complete.

  With an annoyed grunt, Price answered his own question. “We observed Moore’s brigade deploying along the Memphis road before dark; put Phifer’s brigade along this line here, with Moore next to him and Cabell in reserve, and have them advance to here.” Price indicated an area well within the woods but close up to the town. “Throw out skirmishers and have Bledsoe’s battery see if they can get into a position close up to this battery here. I want to start shelling the Yankees at first light, and we’ll need batteries in position before then. This battery controls both the Pittsburg road and the Memphis and Charleston rail line. We’ll concentrate on that area, as Maury’s divis
ion is already in position on this side of the Memphis road.” Price pinched his eyes and rubbed them with a dirty thumb and forefinger.

  “You finally have done it, General. Tennessee is about to become ours again.” exclaimed Morrison, a belated attempt to cover failing to answer the question.

  Price had been urging Van Dorn to coordinate with him to do this very thing: cut into Corinth and push the Yankees out, cut off Memphis, and turn northeastward and threaten Nashville. Bragg and Kirby-Smith were marching in that direction now. He’d been loath to abandon Iuka, but the chance to catch Rosecrans alone was of higher import than allowing the Yankees to think they’d brought about a brilliant defeat.

  Dismissing his aide’s enthusiastic outburst with an annoyed wave of his hand, Price let out a slow sigh as he glared at the map. “Months of badgering Van Dorn to cooperate in a move on Corinth and yet we still could not carry the day,” Price groused. “We carried the fighting today; Van Dorn’s army was late to the field.”

  “You think this might be another Pea Ridge, sir?” Morrison asked tentatively.

  “Not a memory I want to think on. We carried the day the first day and lost it the second. We’re going to have a second day here. But Rosecrans is near surrounded. If we can push him tomorrow, there will not be a need for likening this to Pea Ridge.”

  “We have veteran soldiers this time and better coordination, General. We just need the morning to finish Rosecrans off.” Lieutenant Morrison tapped his finger against his lips as he surveyed his own handy work.

  “Worst ground to lead an attack on, once we were inside the outer defenses, that is,” Price replied. “The general will blame it on us for not pressing Rosecrans further.”

  “Moore’s and Phifer’s brigades were out of ammunition and had been marching and fighting since sunup. We had the worst ground to cover and the toughest part of the defenses to break. Hébert and Maury fulfilled their orders precisely. Lovell, on the other hand . . . “ Morrison trailed off and shrugged. General Lovell commanded a small division of two brigades and was supposed to have pressed from the west but had kept behind the fighting, allowing the Union troops to fall back on the city’s defenses. Lovell’s division was Van Dorn’s sole contribution to the enterprise.

  “That ground around the Memphis and Ohio is all swamp and a narrow frontage, but they did lead off the attack and should have been able to squeeze Rosecrans’s open flank on the right,” Price said and huffed.

  Richard Morrison had not learned yet where he stood with the general, one moment Price was sour and the next melancholy. “Sir, we carried the field today, just your army. Lovell’s division barely broke a sweat. We could have taken Corinth without that pompous womanizer Van Dorn taking all the credit!” he stated bitterly.

  “And we exhausted those we did commit. No, we still need Lovell’s division if we’re to finish this in the morning,” Price replied.

  “Not even Lovell has any confidence in . . .” Morrison gushed before stopping abruptly.

  Price held up his hand to silence his subordinate as sounds of riders dismounting outside quieted the conversation.

  Earl Van Dorn was not quite a typical West Point career army officer. He had the experience for it and the battle accolades from the Mexican War—breveted three times to major—and had plenty of frontier experience Indian fighting. Brave in battle but loose with his social attention to other men’s wives, Van Dorn was the senior officer in charge of the field as soon as he entered it, leaving Price to follow his lead. Striding into the room, he drew himself up to his full height to take command of what was to be his victory or defeat.

  “General Price, will you lay out for me our dispositions?” Van Dorn said as he greeted Price warmly.

  Liking or disliking someone was of little consequence in the military structure, though of great consequence when it came to how one commanded on and off the field. It mattered little to Price if Van Dorn was a pompous buffoon and a contemptible womanizer; he was in charge. Price wanted to push the Yankee horde back out of Tennessee and relieve his beloved Missouri of the antislavery element. If he needed the help of a Van Dorn, then so be it.

  “Sir, my aide-de-camp will show you where my divisions are right now in relation to your divisions. I will relate that it was impossible to force the line before nightfall given the terrain and lack of artillery support that could be brought to bear on the enemy line. We pushed them as far as we could.”

  Morrison swallowed hard and cleared his throat. It was one thing to egg your commanding general on about another general and adopt his attitude towards Van Dorn, another thing to address the man commanding your fate.

  Van Dorn cut in, “Yes, General. It was a disappointment that we could not force his inner line of works before nightfall. But we will strike him hard and early tomorrow!” he said triumphantly, striking the map heavily with his palm. “With our dispositions as they are, your Army of the West will form the left of our line, fronting the enemy’s inner works on a line from the Memphis and Ohio railroad to the Charleston and Mobile rail line in an arc, occupying the ridges before the town here. You will occupy this line of woods in the early morning hours. I’ve ordered Jackson’s cavalry to burn the bridge over the Tuscumbia tonight after the trains have all crossed so as to prevent Ord making any move on our rear from the direction of Renzie.”

  Price looked for a moment at the map. “Sir, if we burn the bridge—I do not doubt the military wisdom of closing our flank and rear to any enemy compromise, but if we have to suddenly fall back, we will have forced our line of retreat toward the crossings of the Hatchie at Davis Bridge and at Crum’s Mill. Both are in the direct line of advance from Renzie and from Corinth.”

  “General, we will not be retreating! Rosecrans is in a tight little ball here in Corinth, and we have him ousted from his outer works. He only has some batteries thrown up on the heights of the town. The woods favor our assembly and approach, and we will overwhelm him easily. With the lines of communication cut between Memphis and Bolivar, and Armstrong and Jackson demonstrating before Ord in Bolivar, we will have only Rosecrans to deal with. I would have preferred to have smashed him today, but if we strike early and hard, we will crush him before reinforcements can arrive from the direction of Iuka or Renzie. Further, I intend to send Jackson and Armstrong toward Renzie should the enemy abandon it, so as to butt his cavalry square on the enemy’s flank. I have ordered Lovell’s division to demonstrate on the right flank. He will advance and hold the enemy in place, preventing him from reinforcing his center and right so that your divisions can move forward.”

  “Yes sir, General,” Price replied. If I hadn’t already guessed that I would be leading tomorrow’s assault with my army I might have been honored, he thought to himself.

  “Now, with your line arrayed thusly,” Van Dorn addressed Price, “you will start the attack at first light.” he motioned on the map.

  “Sir, Hébert’s division will start off then, followed by Maury’s brigades. Orders will be for Hébert’s brigades to step off at first light and for each brigade to step off once the connecting brigade moves, en echelon,” Price replied. It was how he would have conducted tomorrow’s fighting if Van Dorn hadn’t been present and in command, but Price didn’t like burning his bridges before he’d secured a line of retreat. This wasn’t Mexico, and they were not Cortez or his conquistadores. Price’s army was the largest, so it should bear the brunt of the attacking, but Lovell’s division hadn’t seen any fighting at all this day and from the appearances wasn’t going to be tasked with doing much tomorrow.

  “I’d like to have a brigade detached to join with some of Armstrong’s cavalry to occupy and hold this junction between the two rail lines, thus to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of this low ground here.” Van Dorn pointed to the map where a series of ridges formed a concentration point where the two railroads crossed in the center of the city. “Armstrong’s cavalry is spread out all over, and I’d like to relieve him so he can prepare to
march on Renzie.”

  “Send to General Maury that I’m detaching Cabell’s brigade from him to operate with the cavalry,” Price said to Lieutenant Morrison who penciled instructions upon a pad of paper.

  “Lovell will move forward to demonstrate before the enemy on the right after Maury moves forward on his left. The enemy, from what I’m advised from the scouts, has not prepared for a defense of the town thoroughly, not expecting to have to I would presume. Rosecrans’s arrogance left him unable to keep us from pushing him from his works, but Grant’s arrogance has left his armies scattered and defenseless. We will snip off this one army and open up the way to Middle Tennessee once more, gentlemen. I’ll leave the details to you, General, on your part. First light. I want to advance at first light.”

  “Sir, I’ve ordered my reserve batteries to take up positions in front of the enemy works to shell his positions before light. The ground is such that he will have a hard time returning fire, and we already know where he is within his inner batteries. I’ll begin pushing my brigades forward after they have replenished ammunition and gotten rations forward.” Price stated.

  “Excellent, General. I will have Lovell do the same. We will follow up with an advanced bombardment and harassment of the enemy before he can even reply.”

  “Sir,” Price saluted as Van Dorn made movements toward the door.

  “It will now become his idea,” Price quipped to Morrison when Van Dorn exited.

  “Last in his class at West Point,” Morrison said and smirked.

  “Get my horse, we need to visit Maury, Hébert, and Armstrong’s Cavalry and get them moving into position,” Price said and leaned into the map. The ridges in front of the town were heavily wooded, with few places to deploy on open ground, a blessing when confronted with the heavy guns bristling out from the battery positions. Few other defenses were in evidence about the town. The point of greatest opportunity, from the hastily drawn map he had in front of him, was between the two rail lines and leading up to a well-placed battery. The woods ran almost up to the battery; its placement not suited for direct assault given the lack of cleared ground in front. But poor ground also meant he would have very little opportunity to deploy his own batteries to support his advancing infantry. Getting his batteries into position at first light while they could maneuver, and in place before being fired upon by the enemy positions, was going to be critical. Doing so might prove to be the only way to gain any advantage before the assault. Disrupting the enemy before light and keeping him down would gain the greatest advantage as Price’s legions burst out of the trees and into the town.