Shiloh and the Western Campaign of 1862

by Edward Cunningham

  This was the beginning of the end for the Confederacy in the battle. Within a few minutes the Southerners were in full retreat. The foul weather rendered most of the Confederate troops incapable of fighting, not so much from morale as from the fact that their flintlock muskets simply would not function in the dampness. The total Union loss in the action was 40 killed, 207 wounded, and 15 captured or missing while the Southerners had 125 killed, 309 wounded, and 99 captured or missing. Confederate losses were almost twice as heavy, the most serious loss being the death of General Zollicoffer.34

  Crittenden took over the Confederate command and helped make some kind of a retreat, although it was widely alleged that the politician turned soldier had been under the influence of alcohol at the time. He was largely discredited by these events and nevermore would hold important Confederate command. News of the defeat lowered Confederate morale drastically. A Confederate War Department official commented in his personal diary that the battle was a complete disaster.35

  The dead Zollicoffer was hailed throughout the South as a fallen hero. Forty-nine years old and one of the leading political powers in Tennessee, the dead general had been the most important and most popular secessionist leader in the entire state. A long time member of the Whig party and a newspaperman, he had helped make and unmake governors, senators, and presidents. In 1852, Zollicoffer fought his famous duel with John Leake Marling, editor of the Democratic Oriented Nashville Union, who had called him a liar. Aside from a year as an officer in the Seminole War, this duel was Zollicoffer’s only military experience. In exchange for a bullet through his hand, he put a shot through his duelist opponent’s head, badly wounding him, although the two political rivals later became reconciled.36

  The defeat at Fishing Creek, or Logan’s Crossroads, or Mill Springs, or whatever the battle might be called, was the first significant step in the Union’s conquest of the Confederate heartland. The practical result of the victory, besides a heavy Confederate casualty list and the great loss of supplies and materials, was the complete collapse of the Confederate right wing. Henceforth the way was open for a Union invasion of East Tennessee or a thrust through the eastern Tennessee region against the flank of General Albert Sidney Johnston’s communications, specifically the line to Bowling Green.

  On January 4, President Lincoln telegraphed Buell at Louisville asking if weapons and munitions had been forwarded to East Tennessee and requesting a progress report of movement in that direction.37 Buell’s answer was that he had been organizing two columns with reference to the movement, but that he had no real belief or faith in its feasibility, and he expressed the view that an attack upon Nashville, Tennessee, was preferable, which was not well received by the chief executive. On January 6, Lincoln wrote to Buell, suggesting an advance on the railroad at some point south of Cumberland Gap, since this would have the effect of cutting “a great artery of the enemy’s communication, which Nashville does not have, and secondly because it is in the midst of loyal people, who would rally around it, which Nashville is not.” Lincoln went on to tell Buell that he could not see why “the movement in east Tennessee would not be a diversion in your favor.” Lincoln’s humanitarian feeling showed through in his expression of concern for the fate of the loyalists in East Tennessee, who were being strongly suppressed by Confederate authorities.38 The following day President Lincoln wired Buell again, ordering him to “please name as early a day as you safely can, on or before which you can be ready to move southward in concert with Gen. Halleck. Delay is ruining us; and it is in dispensable for me to have something definite. I send a like dispatch to Halleck.”39

  Lincoln’s patience was beginning to run short, although it is probable that he would really have been willing to settle for some kind of offensive, and would not have insisted on the East Tennessee campaign; but politically, militarily, economically, and from all other standpoints, the time had come for a Union offensive, somehow, somewhere, something.

  On January 13, President Lincoln again wrote to Buell and Halleck, urging them into action. The President stated that his general idea of “this war to be that we have the greater numbers, and the enemy has the greater facility of concentrating forces upon points of collision.” He went on to say that the Union cause would fail, “unless we can find some way of making our advantage an overmatch for his,” and that this only could be done by “menacing him with superior forces at different points, at the same time,” in order to attack “one or both, if he makes no change; and if he weakens one to strengthen the other, forbear to attack the strengthened one,” but the point was to “seize, and hold the weakened one,” gaining very much. In a nutshell this was military strategy as Lincoln saw it, and he was perfectly correct. The President elaborated that his idea was that Halleck should menace Columbus and downriver generally while Buell should harass Bowling Green and East Tennessee. If the Confederates should concentrate at Bowling Green, then Buell should not retire from its front but should avoid engaging “him,” and if possible to occupy Columbus and East Tennessee, one or both, since the Confederates would have concentrated their main forces at Bowling Green and would be unable to defend them.40

  The success of the Grant-McClernand-Smith reconnaissance in force, and probably the effect of Lincoln’s obvious desire for an offensive, brought forth from Henry Halleck one of his more unusual and interesting plans of operations. In a letter to McClellan on January 20, Halleck found fault with politics and politicians interfering in the war, and he charged that the past lack of success of the Union army was “attributable to the politicians rather than the generals.” He seemed confused in regard to many issues of the war, but he did maintain that moving down the Mississippi River using the navy as a carrier would be “impracticable, or at least premature.” He added, “It is not a proper line of operations, at least now. A much more feasible plan is to move up the Cumberland and Tennessee, making Nashville the first objective point.” In flat words and terse language, Halleck positively and definitely committed himself to the general-in-chief in favor of a drive down the river lines, and not a push into eastern Tennessee.41 Buell had suggested this plan way back on November 27 and again on December 29 to General McClernand, and on January 3 to General Halleck.42

  Not daunted by the failure of his conference with General Halleck in St. Louis, Grant, on the 24th of January, forwarded a report to “Little Mac” of General C. F. Smith’s reconnaissance on the Fort Henry bastion. Conferring with Commodore Foote, Grant and the naval officer wired Halleck in St. Louis, on the 28th, that Fort Henry could be captured.43

  The weeks and months of delays, confusion, and sometimes downright chaos were about to come to an end. It is impossible to escape the conclusion, however, that many of the leading figures in the Union armed forces at this time were somewhat overcome with the gravity of the situation. Men like Halleck, Buell, and to some extent Grant simply lacked experience in handling large bodies of troops. At the same time they could appreciate the gravity of the situation they were involved in.

  On receipt of the Foote-Grant report, Halleck finally decided to take action. Probably he was also influenced by the arrival of a report from McCullum stating that General P. G. T. Beauregard and fifteen Confederate regiments were en route to Kentucky. In any event Halleck promptly ordered General Grant to assault Fort Henry.44 General Halleck immediately followed the order to attack Fort Henry with a second dispatch, dated the same day, January 30, 1862, containing many more details than instructions.

  Grant was ordered to mass all possible troops from Paducah, Smithland, Cairo, Fort Holt, Birdspoint, and other places, but at the same time to leave sufficient garrisons to protect those places in case the Confederates at Columbus should launch an offensive. Remarking on the impassable condition of the local roads, Halleck ordered Grant to make as much use of Foote’s transports as possible. Additional artillery units were promised to Grant, and Lieutenant Colonel James B. McPherson of the United States Engineers was promised as chief engineer of the
expedition. Halleck reported all the details he knew of Fort Henry, and he cautioned Grant to cooperate closely with the navy.45

  Grant quickly set out to launch his invasion. Because of the closing of the Mississippi River to Union traffic, there were a large number of steamships46 tied up in Cairo for lack of employment. Grant immediately began rounding up these ships and their crews, but was not able to find enough transports to haul all of his command at one time. When all of the available boats were loaded, with about one-half of the seventeen thousand Federal soldiers, Grant ordered the expedition to proceed on up the Tennessee River under Brigadier General John McClernand. Rounding up some additional transports from another source, Grant soon followed with more of his army.47

  Grant caught up with his advance force two days later, on the morning of February 4, but he did not approve of the landing site McClernand had selected because it was too far away from Fort Henry. The steamers then carried the force to a new disembarkation point about four miles from the Confederate position. The troops were landed and the steamers unloaded and turned about to Paducah to pick up General C. F. Smith’s infantry division, Grant personally going along to insure that everything went off right.48

  February 5 was spent in making reconnaissances of the Confederate position while waiting for the rest of the army to show up. Grant’s unofficial chief-of-staff, Colonel J. D. Webster, and several members of McClernand’s staff accompanied a party of Federal cavalry on a reconnaissance of the Southern bastion. A short skirmish developed in which one Union cavalryman was killed and at least two others wounded, besides an undetermined number of Southern casualties. But the Federals were able to get a pretty good idea of the principle features of the terrain on the northern side of Fort Henry.49

  On the afternoon of the 5th, very late, the transports returned from Paducah with Smith’s soldiers, General Smith, and General Grant. About dusk Grant, Smith, and McClernand went on board the flag ship of Commodore Foote, the Cincinnati, to arrange the program for an assault on Fort Henry, scheduled the following day. While the officers were engaged in their final conference, the Union gun boat Conestoga returned from a patrol up the river, during which it had checked to see if the channel was clear of obstructions. The Conestoga pulled alongside the Cincinnati, transferring a huge Confederate naval mine or torpedo, which it had picked up in the channel. The ship’s crew quickly congregated about the sinister looking iron cylinder, and as the conference in Foote’s cabin ended and the officers came out side, their attention was attracted to the torpedo.

  Examining the five foot long iron cylinder, the curious Grant expressed a desire to see the interior mechanism of the device. The ship’s armorer, armed with monkey wrench, hammer, and chisel, promptly opened the thing up. As he did so a quantity of gas came squirting out. Two of Grant’s army officers, believing the contraption was about to explode, flung themselves face down on the deck. With the agility of a young tomcat, Foote flew up the ship’s ladder, followed by the equally light-footed Grant. Reaching the top and realizing that the torpedo was not going to explode, Foote calmed down; and turning to face Grant, who was just reaching the top of the ladder, he smilingly remarked, “General, why this haste?” to which General Grant with equal presence of mind quickly replied, “That the navy may not get ahead of us.” The whole crew broke out laughing, and the army officers soon scattered to their respective commands on shore.50

  Whatever the humor of the occasion, Foote and Grant soon had more pressing thoughts on their minds, for the morrow was the appointed date for the assault on Fort Henry. Foote and his seven warships would hit the Confederates from the river side while Grant and his regiments moved in to isolate the Southerners on the landward side. It was obvious the forthcoming day was going to be one to long remember.

  Chapter 3

  Breaking the River Barriers

  AS PART OF THEIR line of defense, the Confederates erected fortifications at a series of strategic points stretching across Tennessee, Missouri, and Kentucky. The extreme left of the Confederate works was located at two points: New Madrid in the extreme southern portion of Missouri, and the second series of works at Island No. 10, in the Mississippi River, lying geographically south of New Madrid, but actually due to the river’s taking a sharp bend, in a more advanced position along the Tennessee-Kentucky state line. At Columbus, on the Mississippi River, just across the state line, was perhaps the strongest of the many works erected by the Southerners.

  More than a hundred heavy guns, some accounts say one hundred and fifty, guarded the “Gibraltar of the West.” Farther east lay the vital Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. These two important waterways ran almost parallel to each other across the state of Kentucky and down into Tennessee, where they gradually split. At one point these waterways were within three miles of each other, but at the beginning of hostilities Kentucky had not been occupied by the Confederate army and the Southerners had chosen to erect their fortifications within the Tennessee state line, thus respecting Kentucky’s neutrality. Works had been started at points on the two rivers approximately twelve miles apart just across the state line. These works were Fort Henry and Fort Heiman on the Tennessee, and to the right, Fort Donelson on the Cumberland.1

  At Bowling Green, Kentucky, General Johnston’s main base of operations, the Southerners also erected some field fortifications. However, it was not necessary to erect river batteries, simply because there was no river running in that area. The only other fortifications in the region of any real importance were constructed at Fort Pillow along the Mississippi River, which had been set up to defend Memphis from attack.2

  With the Confederate extreme right collapsed as a result of the Fishing Creek debacle, the positions at Fort Henry, Fort Heiman, and Fort Donelson took on increased importance. If Union naval and army forces could take these places, it would not only open up the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers to the Union, but it would also have the effect of outflanking both Columbus and Bowling Green, since Union forces would be south of them and in position to cut their communications with the Gulf region.

  Even before Tennessee joined the Confederacy, Governor Isham Harris ordered Major Bushrod Johnson to lay out fortifications at some suitable point on the Tennessee River to protect the state from invasion along the route. The spot chosen was Fort Henry. It was not a terribly good choice, but probably the best under the circumstances, since work had to be begun at once and could not wait until Kentucky was occupied. Eventually seventeen guns were mounted in a fortified position on the east bank of the river. Eleven cannon commanded the river, while six were inside the works to help defend the landward side. To protect the fort from army assault, a line of trenches was dug some four hundred yards from the fort and some twelve thousand yards in length. Isolated rifle pits were scattered around the length of the works. The guns were a 10-inch Columbiad, two 42-pounders on barbette mounts, seven 32-pounders on barbette mounts, a 24-pound rifle, and six smaller pieces.3

  Although of some use in disputing control of the river, the fort was weakened since it was on low terrain and was commanded by high ground on both sides of the river. Hence it would be readily possible for enemy forces to occupy the higher ground and shell the fort into submission. As a means of partly alleviating this situation, the Southerners began work on a smaller secondary work on the west side of the river. It was named Fort Heiman, in honor of Colonel Adolphus Heiman, a German-American who had served in the armed forces in a German state and had also acted as a lieutenant in a Tennessee regiment of volunteers in the Mexican War.4

  The worst feature of Fort Henry was not the exposure to enemy attack but the exposure to the elements of nature, notably the waters of the Tennessee River. Captain Jesse Taylor of the garrison ascertained that at high water the highest point within the fort would be inundated by two feet. He related this fact to Tennessee state authorities, and was told to report to Major General Leonidas Polk with this news. Taylor checked with that Southern leader, who referred him to General
A. S. Johnston, who dispatched an engineer, Major, later Colonel, Jeremy F. Gilmer, to investigate the situation, and it was he, who in an attempt to remedy it, began fortifying the heights of the west bank, Fort Heiman.5

  Described by one of the authorities as a “bastioned earthwork of irregular trace,” Fort Donelson represented a somewhat different proposition. Located on a high bluff, the guns of the fort could shoot down, dropping projectiles with a plunging effect on enemy ships attempting to approach up the river. The fort was armed with ten 32-pound guns, two of them old carronades that would only be effective at practically point blank range, one 128-pound Columbiad, one 128-pound rifled gun, plus two 9-pound field pieces, presumably smoothbores.

  Actually the term “fort” is a misnomer, for Donelson was rather a fortified encampment or position. On the slope of the ridge, which faced downstream from the position, the Confederates excavated two water batteries. Here the guns were protected on all sides by dirt works, thus it was virtually impossible to enfilade them with gunfire. The lower battery was about twenty feet above the river, and it was armed with the 10-inch smoothbore and eight of the 32-pounders. The other battery was perhaps fifty feet above the level of the water and had the one rifled 128-pounder and the two 32-pound carronades. Inside the fort itself, or what was known as the fort, was a bombproof, a nineteenth century bomb shelter where troops not actually required to man the guns could take shelter during enemy fire. This was connected with the batteries by a covered way, a sort of deep trench, similar to the communication trench of World War I.6