The Civil War_ Fort Sumter To Perryville Part 13

Below the boom, Porter's anxiety was relieved as he watched the charred remnants of the rebel fleet come floating down the river. When his demand for immediate surrender of the forts was declined, he put his mortar crews back to work, firing up the remainder of their sh.e.l.ls.

New Orleans was in a frenzy of rage and disappointment at the news from downriver. Other cities might accept defeat and endure the aftermath in sullen silence; but not this one. All afternoon and most of the night, while crowds milled in the streets, brandishing knives and pistols and howling for resistance to the end, drays rattled over the cobbles, hauling cotton from the presses for burning on the quays, where crates of rice and hogsheads of mola.s.ses were broken open and thrown into the river. This at least won the people's approval; "The d.a.m.ned Yankees shall not have it!" they cried, and the night was hazed with acrid smoke that hid the stars.

They were no less violent next morning when they heard the guns of the enemy fleet make short work of the Chalmette batteries, then come slowly into view around Slaughterhouse Bend as a drizzle of rain began to fall; "silent, grim, and terrible," one among the watchers called the warships, "black with men, heavy with deadly portent." Their great hope had been the ironclads, built and launched in their own yards. One had already gone downriver, powerless, and been by-pa.s.sed. Now here came the other, the unfinished Mississippi Mississippi, drifting helpless, set afire to keep her from falling into Federal hands. The crowd howled louder than ever at the sight, shouting "Betrayed! Betrayed!" and screaming curses at the Yankee sailors who watched from the decks and yardarms. Aboard the Hartford Hartford, one old tar grinned broadly back at them as he stood beside a 9-inch Dahlgren, holding the lanyard in one hand and patting the big black bottle-shaped breech with the other. The rain came down harder.

Despite the threats and invective from the quay, Farragut's strength was so obvious that he didn't have to use it. Two officers went ash.o.r.e and walked unescorted through the hysterical mob to City Hall, where the mayor was waiting for them. Lovell had retreated, leaving New Orleans an open city. However, if the citizens were willing to undergo naval bombardment, he offered to "return with my troops and not leave as long as one brick remained upon another." The offer was declined: as was the navy's demand for an immediate surrender. "This satisfaction you cannot obtain at our hands," the mayor told the two officers. He would not resist, but neither would he yield; if they wanted the city, let them come and take it.

Farragut wanted no pointless violence; he had had enough violence the day before, when, as he told a friend, "I seemed to be breathing flame." Sat.u.r.day, while negotiations continued, he ordered his captains to a.s.semble their crews at 11 o'clock the following morning and "return thanks to Almighty G.o.d for his great goodness and mercy for permitting us to pa.s.s through the events of the past two days with so little loss of life and blood. At that hour the Church pennant will be hoisted on every vessel of the fleet, and their crews a.s.sembled will, in humiliation and prayer, make their acknowledgments thereof to the Great Disposer of all human events." That would be ceremony enough for him, with or without a formal surrender by the munic.i.p.al authorities.

The occupation problem still remained, but not for long. Monday the garrisons of Forts Jackson and St Philip-they were "mostly foreign enlistments," the commandant said; "A reaction set in among them," he explained-mutinied, spiked the guns, and forced their officers to surrender. Still powerless, the Louisiana Louisiana was blown up to forestall capture. Butler's 18,000 men ascended the river unopposed and marched into the city on the last day of the month. "In family councils," a resident wrote, "a new domestic art began to be studied-the art of hiding valuables" from looters under the general known thereafter as "Spoons" Butler. One cache he uncovered with particular satisfaction: 418 bronze plantation bells collected there in answer to Beauregard's impa.s.sioned pleas for metal. Sent to Boston, they sold for $30,000 to mock the rebels from New England towers and steeples. Other aspects of the occupation were less pleasant for the visitors. Not only was southern hospitality lacking, the people seemed utterly unwilling to accept the consequences of defeat: particularly the women, who responded to northern overtures with downright abuse. Butler knew how to handle that, however. "I propose to make some brilliant examples," he wrote Stanton. was blown up to forestall capture. Butler's 18,000 men ascended the river unopposed and marched into the city on the last day of the month. "In family councils," a resident wrote, "a new domestic art began to be studied-the art of hiding valuables" from looters under the general known thereafter as "Spoons" Butler. One cache he uncovered with particular satisfaction: 418 bronze plantation bells collected there in answer to Beauregard's impa.s.sioned pleas for metal. Sent to Boston, they sold for $30,000 to mock the rebels from New England towers and steeples. Other aspects of the occupation were less pleasant for the visitors. Not only was southern hospitality lacking, the people seemed utterly unwilling to accept the consequences of defeat: particularly the women, who responded to northern overtures with downright abuse. Butler knew how to handle that, however. "I propose to make some brilliant examples," he wrote Stanton.

Farragut now was free to continue his trip upriver, and in early May he did so. Baton Rouge fell as easily as New Orleans, once the guns of the fleet were trained on its streets and houses; the state government had fled the week before to Opelousas, which was safely away from the river. Natchez was next, and it too fell without resistance. Then in mid-May came Vicksburg, whose reply to a demand for surrender was something different from the others: "Mississippians don't know, and refuse to learn, how to surrender to an enemy. If Commodore Farragut or Brigadier General Butler can teach them, let them come and try." The ranks were wrong; Butler was a major general, Farragut a captain; but the writer seemed to mean what he was saying. The guns frowned down from the tall bluff-"so elevated that our fire will not be felt by them," Farragut said-and there were reports of 20,000 reinforcements on the way from Jackson. Deciding to label this first attempt a mere reconnaissance, he left garrisons at Baton Rouge and Natchez, and was back in New Orleans before the end of May. Vicksburg was a problem that could wait. In time he intended to "teach them," but just now it needed study.

Welles was angry, hotly demanding to know why the attack against Vicksburg's bluff had not been pressed, but the feeling in the fleet was that enough had been done in one short spring by one upriver thrust. New Orleans was now in northern hands and a second southern capital had fallen-both delivered as outright gifts to the army from the navy. Southerners agreed that it was quite enough, though some found bitter solace in protesting that the thing had been done by mechanical contrivance, with small risk and no gallantry at all. The glory was departing. "This is a most cowardly struggle," a Louisiana woman told her diary. "These people can do nothing without gunboats.... These pa.s.sive instruments do their fighting for them. It is at best a dastardly way to fight." Then she added, rather wistfully: "We should have had gunboats if the Government had been efficient, wise or earnest."

4 The North had found a new set of western heroes-Farragut, Curtis, Canby, Pope, Ben Butler: all their stars were in ascendance-but some of the former heroes now had tarnished reputations: Grant, for instance. If the news from Donelson had sent him soaring like a rocket in the public's estimation, the news from Shiloh dropped him sparkless like the stick. Cashiered officers, such as the Ohio colonel who cried "Retreat! Save yourselves!" at first sight of the rebels, were spreading tales back home at his expense. He was incompetent; he was lazy; he was a drunk. Correspondents, who had come up late and gathered their information in the rear-"not the best place from which to judge correctly what is going on in front," Grant remarked-were soon in print with stories which not only seemed to verify the rumors of "complete surprise," but also included the casualty lists. Shocking as these were to the whole country, they struck hardest in the Northwest, where most of the dead boys were being mourned.

Hardest hit of all was Ohio, which not only had furnished a large proportion of the corpses, but also was smarting under the charge that several Buckeye regiments had scattered for the rear before firing a shot. Governor David Tod was quick to announce that these men were not cowards; they had been caught off guard as a result of the "criminal negligence" of the high command. By way of securing proof he sent the lieutenant governor down to talk with the soldiers in their camps. They agreed with the governor's view, and the envoy returned to publish in mid-April a blast against "the blundering stupidity and negligence of the general in command." He found, he said, "a general feeling among the most intelligent men that Grant and Prentiss ought to be court-martialed or shot." Grant himself was an Ohioan, but they disclaimed him; he had moved to Illinois.

Nor was Ohio alone in her resentment. Harlan of Iowa rose in Congress to announce that he discerned a pattern of behavior: Grant had blundered at Belmont until he was rescued by Foote's navy, had lost at Donelson until C. F. Smith redeemed him, and had been surprised at Shiloh and saved by Buell. "With such a record," Harlan declared, "those who continue General Grant in active command will in my opinion carry on their skirts the blood of thousands of their slaughtered countrymen."

Eventually the problem landed where the big ones always did: on the shoulders of Abraham Lincoln. Late one night at the White House a Pennsylvania spokesman made a summary of the charges. Grant had been surprised because of his invariable lack of vigilance and because he disregarded Halleck's order to intrench. In addition, he was reported drunk: which might or might not have been true, but in any case he had lost the public's confidence to such an extent that any future blood on his hands would be charged against the officials who sustained him. He had better be dismissed. Lincoln sat there thinking it over, profoundly alone with himself, then said earnestly: "I can't spare this man. He fights."

He was not fighting now, nor was he likely to be fighting any time in the near future. Halleck had seen to that by taking the field himself. As soon as he reached Pittsburg Landing, four days after the battle, he began reorganizing his forces by consolidating Grant's Army of the Tennessee and Buell's Army of the Ohio with Pope's Army of the Mississippi, summoned from Island Ten. When George Thomas, now a major general as a reward for Fishing Creek, arrived with Buell's fifth division-the other four, or parts of them, had come up in time for a share in the fighting-Halleck a.s.signed it to Grant's army and gave Thomas the command in place of Grant, who was appointed a.s.sistant commander of the whole, directly under Halleck. That way he could watch him, perhaps use him in an advisory capacity, and above all keep him out of contact with the troops. Having thus disposed of one wild man, he attended to another. McClernand, with his and Lew Wallace's divisions, plus a third from Buell, was given command of the reserve. So organized, Halleck told his reshuffled generals, "we can march forward to new fields of honor and glory, till this wicked rebellion is completely crushed out and peace restored to our country." He was confident, and with good cause. His fifteen divisions included 120,172 men and more than 200 guns.

Thomas and Pope were pleased with the arrangement; but not Buell and McClernand. Buell, whose command was thus reduced to three green divisions while his former lieutenant Thomas had five, all veteran, protested: "You must excuse me for saying that, as it seems to me, you have saved the feelings of others very much to my injury." McClernand, too, was bitter. He saw little chance for "honor and glory," as Halleck put it, let alone advancement, when his army-if it could be called such; actually it was a pool on which the rest would call for reinforcements-did not even have a name. But the saddest of all was Grant. He had no troops at all, or even duties, so far as he could see. When he complained about being kicked upstairs into a supernumerary position, Halleck snapped at him with charges of ingrat.i.tude: "For the past three months I have done everything in my power to ward off the attacks which were made upon you. If you believe me your friend you will not require explanations; if not, explanations on my part would be of little avail."

C. F. Smith, who at Donelson had proved himself perhaps the hardest fighter of them all, was not included in the reshuffling because he was still confined to his sickbed in Savannah. After Shiloh, the infected shin got worse; blood poisoning set in. Or perhaps it was simply a violent reaction of the old man's entire organism, outraged at being kept flat on his back within earshot of one of the world's great battles. At any rate, he sickened and was dead before the month was out. Halleck ordered a salute fired for him at every post and aboard every warship in the department. The army would miss him, particularly the volunteers who had followed where he led, alternately cursed and cajoled, but always encouraged by his example. Grant would miss him most of all.

April 28, having completed the reorganization and briefed the four commanders, Halleck sent his Grand Army forward against Beauregard, who was intrenched at Corinth with a force which Halleck estimated at 70,000 men. Buell had the center, Thomas the right, and Pope the left; McClernand brought up the rear. Halleck intended to follow along, though for the present he kept his command post at Pittsburg. The great day had come, but he did not seem happy about it according to a reporter who saw him May Day: "He walks by the hour in front of his quarters, his thumbs in the armpits of his vest, casting quick looks, now to the right, now to the left, evidently not for the purpose of seeing anything or anybody, but staring into vacancy the while." Part of what was fretting him was the thing that had fretted Grant the year before, when he marched for the first time against the enemy and felt his heart "getting higher and higher" until it seemed to be in his throat. What Halleck felt was the presence of the enemy. "The evidences are that Beauregard will fight at Corinth," he wired Washington this same day.

Certain comparisons were unavoidable for a man accustomed to weighing all the odds. In the fight to come it would be Beauregard, who had co-directed the two great battles of the war, versus Halleck, the former lieutenant of engineers, who had never been in combat. True, he had written or translated learned works on tactics; but so had Hardee, waiting for him now beyond the woods. Bragg was there, grim-faced and wrathful, alongside Polk, the transfer from the Army of the Lord, and Breckinridge, an amateur and therefore unpredictable. So was Van Dorn, who had crossed the Mississippi with 17,000 veterans of Pea Ridge, where the diminutive commander had thrown them at Curtis in a savage double envelopment. It had failed because Curtis had kept his head while the guns were roaring. Could Halleck keep his? He wondered. Besides, Van Dorn might have learned enough from that experience to make certain it did not fail a second time.... For Halleck, the woods were filled with more than shadows.

Nevertheless, he put on a brave face when he wired Washington two days later: "I leave here tomorrow morning, and our army will be before Corinth tomorrow night."

Pope was off and running, in accordance with the reputation earned at New Madrid. Advancing seven miles from Hamburg on the 4th, he did not stop until he reached a stream appropriately called Seven Mile Creek, and from there he leapfrogged forward again to another creekline within two miles of Farmington, which in turn was only four miles from Corinth. He reported his position a good one, protected by the stream in front and a bog on his left, but he was worried about his other flank; "I hope Buell's forces will keep pace on our right," he told headquarters. It turned out he was right to worry. Buell was not there. Lagging back, he was warning Halleck: "We have now reached that proximity to the enemy that our movements should be conducted with the greatest caution and combined methods." The last phrase meant siege tactics, and the army commander took his cue from that. "Don't advance your main body at present," he told Pope. "We must wait till Buell gets up."

Buell was back near Monterey, with Thomas conforming on his right. Presently Pope was back there, too: Beauregard made a stab at his front, and he had to withdraw to avoid an attempt to envelop the flank protected by the bog. In fact the whole countryside was fast becoming boggy. a.s.sistant Secretary Thomas Scott, an observer down from the War Department, wired Stanton: "Heavy rains for the past twenty hours. Roads bad. Movement progressing slowly." Gloomily Halleck confirmed the report: "This country is almost a wilderness and very difficult to operate in." Scott attended a high-level conference and pa.s.sed the word along: Halleck would continue the advance, and "in a few days invest Corinth, then be governed by circ.u.mstances." He made no conjecture as to what those circ.u.mstances might be, but Stanton could see one thing clearly. Last week's "tomorrow" had stretched to "a few days."

It was more than a few. Every evening the troops dug in: four hours' digging, six hours' sleep, then up at dawn to repel attack. The attack didn't come, not in force at least, but Halleck had every reason to expect one. Rebel deserters were coming in with eye-witness accounts of the arrival of reinforcements for the 70,000 already behind the formidable intrenchments. He took thought of the host available to Beauregard by rail from Fort Pillow, Memphis, Mobile, and intermediary points. No less than 60,000 could be sped there practically overnight, he computed, which would give the defenders a larger army than his own. Taking thought, he grew cautious; he grew apprehensive. "Don't let Pope get too far ahead," he warned, acutely aware by now that he had another wild man on his hands. "It is dangerous and effects no good."

He had cause for caution, especially since the accounts of deserters were confirmed by observers of his own. In mid-May the officer in charge of pickets reported that he had heard trains pulling into Corinth during the night. "Such trains were greeted with immense cheering on arrival," he declared. "The enemy are concentrating a powerful army." Next night it was repeated. A scouting party, working near town, heard more trains arriving "and, after they stopped, marching music from the depot in the direction of the front lines." Intelligence could hardly be more definite, and Halleck found his apprehension shared. Indiana's Governor O. P. Morton, down to see how well his Hoosiers had recovered from the b.l.o.o.d.y shock of Shiloh, wired Stanton on May 22: "The enemy are in great force at Corinth, and have recently received reinforcements. They evidently intend to make a desperate struggle at that point, and from all I can learn their leaders have utmost confidence in the result.... It is fearful to contemplate the consequences of a defeat at Corinth." Halleck thought it fearful, too: the more so after McClernand capped the climax with a report he had from a doctor friend, captured at Belmont and recently exchanged. The Illinois general, fretting in his back-seat position, was finding "the amount of duty...very great, indeed exhausting, if not oppressive." Now he crowded into the frame of the big picture by pa.s.sing along what he heard from the doctor, who had left Memphis on May 15. While there, he had spoken with some former cla.s.smates now in the rebel army, who "informed him that on that date the enemy's force at Corinth numbered 146,000." Other details were given, the doctor said, "prospectively increasing their number to 200,000." To palliate the shock of this, he added that "a considerable portion of the force...consists of new levies, being in large part boys and old men."

Two hundred thousand of anything, even rabbits, could make a considerable impression, however, if they were launched at a man who was unprepared: which was the one thing Halleck was determined not to be. Orders went out for the troops to dig harder and deeper, not only on the flanks, but across the center. They cursed and dug-the rains were over; summer was almost in-sweating in wool uniforms under the Mississippi sun. Only the Shiloh veterans, looking back, saw any sense in all that labor. Apparently all but four of the ranking generals shared their commander's apprehension: Pope, who chafed at restraint, bristling offensively on the left: Thomas, who did not have it in his nature to be quite apprehensive about anything: Sherman, who, happy over a pending promotion, called the movement "a magnificent drill": and Grant. Not even Shiloh had taught him caution to this extent. He suggested once to Halleck that he shift Pope's army from the left to the right, out of the swamps and onto the ridge beyond the opposite flank, then send it bowling directly along the high ground into the heart of Corinth. Halleck gave him a fish-eye stare of unbelief. "I was silenced so quickly," Grant said later, "that I felt that possibly I had suggested an unmilitary movement." He drew back and kept his own counsel. This was not his kind of war.

It was Halleck's kind, and he kept at it, burrowing as he went. An energetic inchworm could have made better time-half a mile a day now, sometimes less-but not without the danger of being swooped on by a hawk: whereas, by Halleck's method, the risk was small, the casualties low, and the progress sure. The soldiers, digging and cursing under the summer sun, might agree with the disgruntled McClernand's definition of the campaign as "the present unhappy drama," but they would be there for roll call when the time came for the b.l.o.o.d.y work ahead. Besides, nothing could last forever; not even this. By the morning of May 28-a solid month from the jump-off-all three component armies were within cannon range of Beauregard's intrenchments. After four weeks of marching and digging, Halleck had his troops where he had said they would be "tomorrow." He had reached the second stage, the one in which he had said he would "be governed by circ.u.mstances."

East and far northeast of Corinth, Halleck had two more divisions, both left behind by Buell when he marched for Pittsburg Landing. The latter, commanded by Brigadier General George W. Morgan, was maneuvering in front of c.u.mberland Gap, prepared to move in if the Confederates evacuated or weakened the already small defensive force. Morgan had further plans, intending not only to seize the gap, but to penetrate the Knoxville region-a project dear, as everyone knew, to the heart of Abraham Lincoln. However, the place was a natural fortress; Morgan reported it "washed into deep chasms or belly-deep in mud." So long as the rebels stayed there he could do nothing but hover and maneuver. The more substantial threat would have to come from the opposite direction, beyond the gap, and that was where Buell's other division, under Brigadier General Ormsby M. Mitchel, came in.

He was already in North Alabama, deeper into enemy country than any other Federal commander, having occupied Huntsville the day Halleck got to Pittsburg. From there he pushed on and took Bridgeport just as Halleck's army started south. A bright prospect lay before him. Once he had taken Chattanooga, thirty miles away, he would continue his march along the railroad and threaten Knoxville from the rear. This would cause the evacuation of c.u.mberland Gap, and when Morgan came through, hard on the heels of the defenders, Mitchel would join forces with him and make Lincoln's fondest hope a fact by chasing the scattered rebels clean out of East Tennessee. That was his plan at the outset, and it tied in well with another he had already put in motion, which resulted in what was known thereafter as the Great Locomotive Chase.

James J. Andrews, a Kentucky spy who had gained the trust of Confederates by running quinine through the lines, volunteered to lead a group of 21 Ohio soldiers, dressed like himself in civilian clothes, down into Georgia to burn bridges and blow up tunnels along the Western & Atlantic, the only rail connection between Atlanta and Chattanooga. Andrews and his men infiltrated south and a.s.sembled at Marietta, Georgia, where-on April 12, the day after Mitchel took Huntsville-they boarded a northbound train as pa.s.sengers. During the breakfast halt at Big Shanty they made off with the locomotive and three boxcars, heading north. The conductor, W. A. Fuller, took the theft as a personal affront and started after them on foot. Commandeering first a handcar, then a switch engine, and finally a regular freight locomotive, along with whatever armed volunteers he encountered along the way, he pressed the would-be saboteurs so closely that they had no time for the destruction they had intended. Overtaken just at the Tennessee line, where they ran out of fuel and water, they took to the woods, but were captured. Eight were hanged as spies, including Andrews; eight escaped while awaiting execution, and the remaining six were exchanged. All received the Congressional Medal of Honor in recognition of their valor "above and beyond the call of duty." Fuller and his a.s.sociates received a vote of thanks from the Georgia legislature, but no medals. The Confederacy never had any, then or later.

Andrews' failure meant that the rebels could reinforce Chattanooga rapidly by rail. Advancing toward it, Mitchel found other drawbacks to his plan, chief among them being a shortage of supplies. Except for the fact that he could bring food and other necessities along the railroad, he told Washington, "it would be madness to attempt to hold my position a single day." Presently gray raiders were loose in his rear, capturing men and disrupting communications. "As there is no [hope] of an immediate advance upon Chattanooga," he wired Stanton, "I will now contract my line." He remained in North Alabama, doing what he could-mainly destroying railroad bridges which later Union commanders would have to replace-but on the day that Halleck halted within range of the Corinth intrenchments, Mitchel requested a transfer to another theater. "My advance beyond the Tennessee River seems impossible," he said.

Chattanooga was untaken, and though Morgan still hovered north of c.u.mberland Gap, Knoxville was spared pressure from either direction. Halleck could expect no important strategic diversion on his left as he entered the final stage of his campaign against Corinth.

It turned out, simultaneously, that he could expect none on his right flank either. Farragut turned back from frowning Vicksburg, abandoning for the present his planned ascent of the Mississippi, and the descending fleet of ironclads, steaming south after the fall of Island Ten, received a jolt which gave the Confederates not only a sense of security on the river, but also a heady feeling of elation, long unfamiliar, and a renewal of their confidence in the valor of southern arms.

Midway between New Madrid and Memphis, Fort Pillow was next on the navy's list of downriver objectives, and Foote did not delay. With a burst of his old-time energy, he had the place under mortar bombardment within a week of the fall of Island Ten. The plan was for him to apply pressure from the river, while Pope moved in from the land side, a repet.i.tion of his tactics in Missouri. However, when Halleck took the field in person he summoned Pope to Pittsburg Landing, leaving only two regiments to cooperate with the navy. Foote felt let down and depressed. Fort Pillow was a mean-looking place, with the balance of the guns from Columbus dug into its bluff, and he did not think the navy could do the job alone. Downstream there was a Confederate flotilla of unknown strength, perhaps made stronger than his own by the addition of giant ironclads reportedly under construction in the Memphis yards. The commodore was feverish-"much enfeebled," one of his captains wrote-still on crutches from his Donelson wound, which would not heal in this climate, and distressed, as only a brave man could be, by his loss of nerve. In this frame of mind he applied to Welles for sh.o.r.e duty in the North; which was granted with regret.

May 9 he said farewell on the deck of the flagship, crowded with sailors come for a last look at him. He took off his cap and addressed them, saying that he regretted not being able to stay till the war was over; he would remember all they had shared, he said, "with mingled feelings of sorrow and of pride." Supported by two officers, he went down the gangway and onto a transport, where he was placed in a chair on the guards. When the crew of the flagship cheered him he covered his face with a palm-leaf fan to hide the tears which ran down into his beard. As the transport pulled away, they cheered again and tossed their caps in salute. Greatly agitated, Foote rose from the chair and cried in a broken voice across the widening gap of muddy water: "G.o.d bless you all, my brave companions!... I can never forget you. Never, never. You are as gallant and n.o.ble men as ever fought in a glorious cause, and I shall remember your merits to my dying day." It was one year off, that dying day, and when the doctors told him it had come he took the news without regret. "Well," he said quietly, "I am glad to be done with guns and war."

His successor, Commodore Charles Henry Davis, a fifty-five-year-old Bostonian with a flowing brown mustache and gray rim whiskers, had been a salt-water sailor up to now, a member of the planning board and chief of staff to Du Pont at Port Royal, but before he had spent a full day in his new command he got a taste of what could happen on the river. His first impression had been one of dullness. Agreeing with Foote that the fleet alone could never take Fort Pillow-though in time, if ordered to do so, he would be willing to try running past it-he kept all but one of the gunboats anch.o.r.ed at Plum Run Bend, five miles above the fort. That one was stationed three miles below the others, protecting the single mortar-boat a.s.signed to keep up a hara.s.sing fire by dropping its 13-inch sh.e.l.ls at regular intervals into the rebel fortifications. "Every half-hour during the day," a seaman later wrote, "one of these little pills would climb a mile or two into the air, look around a bit at the scenery, and finally descend and disintegrate around the fort, to the great interest and excitement of the occupants." There was little interest and still less excitement at the near end of the trajectory. This had been going on for some weeks now, and as duty it was dull. The seven ironclads took the guard-mount times about, one day a week for each.

While Foote was telling his crew goodbye, J. E. Montgomery, the river captain who had brought the eight River Defense Fleet gunboats up from New Orleans, was holding a council of war at Memphis. The bitter details of what Farragut's blue-water ships had done to the Confederate flotilla above Forts Jackson and St Philip had reached Memphis by now, along with the warning that Farragut himself might not be far behind; he was on his way, and in fact had captured Baton Rouge the day before. Montgomery's captains believed they could do better when the time came, but in any case there was no point in waiting to fight both Federal fleets at once. They voted to go upriver that night and try a surprise attack on the ironclads next morning, May 10.

It was Sat.u.r.day. The ironclad Cincinnati Cincinnati had the duty below, standing guard while had the duty below, standing guard while Mortar 10 Mortar 10 threw its 200-pound projectiles, one every half-hour as usual, across the wooded neck of land hugged by the final bend above Fort Pillow. The gunboat was not taking the a.s.signment very seriously, however. Steam down, she lay tied to some trees alongside bank, and her crew was busy holystoning the decks for weekly inspection. About 7 o'clock one of the workers gave a startled yell. The others looked and saw eight rebel steamboats rounding the bend, just over a mile away-eight minutes, one of the sailors translated-bearing down, full steam ahead, on the tethered threw its 200-pound projectiles, one every half-hour as usual, across the wooded neck of land hugged by the final bend above Fort Pillow. The gunboat was not taking the a.s.signment very seriously, however. Steam down, she lay tied to some trees alongside bank, and her crew was busy holystoning the decks for weekly inspection. About 7 o'clock one of the workers gave a startled yell. The others looked and saw eight rebel steamboats rounding the bend, just over a mile away-eight minutes, one of the sailors translated-bearing down, full steam ahead, on the tethered Cincinnati Cincinnati. Things moved fast then. While the deck crew slipped her cables, the engineers were throwing oil and anything else inflammable into her furnaces for quick steam. They were too late. The lead vessel, the General Bragg General Bragg, came on, twenty feet tall, her great walking-beam engine driving so hard she had built up a ten-foot billow in front of her bow. The Cincinnati Cincinnati delivered a broadside at fifty yards, then managed to swing her bow around and avoid right-angle contact. The blow, though glancing, tore a piece out of her midships six feet deep and twelve feet long, letting a flood into her magazine. delivered a broadside at fifty yards, then managed to swing her bow around and avoid right-angle contact. The blow, though glancing, tore a piece out of her midships six feet deep and twelve feet long, letting a flood into her magazine.

Three miles upstream, around Plum Run Bend, the rest of the fleet knew nothing of the sudden attack until they heard the guns. They too were lazing alongside bank, steam down. By the time they got up pressure enough to maneuver-which they did as soon as possible, the Mound City Mound City leading the way-they were too late to be of any help to their sister ship below. When the leading the way-they were too late to be of any help to their sister ship below. When the General Bragg General Bragg sheered off, the second ram-gunboat, sheered off, the second ram-gunboat, Sumter Sumter, struck the Cincinnati Cincinnati in the fantail, wrecking her steering gear and punching another hole that let the river in. Next came the in the fantail, wrecking her steering gear and punching another hole that let the river in. Next came the Colonel Lovell Colonel Lovell, whose iron prow crashed into the port quarter. Taking water from three directions, the proud Cincinnati Cincinnati, the fleet's first flagship and leader of the crushing a.s.sault on Henry, rolled first to one side, now the other, then gave a convulsive shudder and went down in water shallow enough to leave her pilot-house above the surface for survivors to cling to, including her captain, who had taken a sharpshooter's bullet through the mouth. It appeared that one of the ironclad monsters could be sunk after all. And having proved it, the attacking flotilla proceeded to re-prove it.

The Mound City Mound City arrived too late for the arrived too late for the Cincinnati' Cincinnati's good, and too early for her own. A fourth ram-gunboat, the General Van Dorn General Van Dorn, met her almost head-on, and punched such a hole in her forward starboard quarter that the Mound City Mound City barely managed to limp toward bank in time to sink with her nose out of water. Two down and five to go: but when the rest of the ironclads came on the scene, their 9-inch Dahlgrens booming, the river captains decided enough had been done for one day. They drew off downstream, unpursued, to the protection of Fort Pillow's batteries. Montgomery brought up the rear in his jaunty flagship barely managed to limp toward bank in time to sink with her nose out of water. Two down and five to go: but when the rest of the ironclads came on the scene, their 9-inch Dahlgrens booming, the river captains decided enough had been done for one day. They drew off downstream, unpursued, to the protection of Fort Pillow's batteries. Montgomery brought up the rear in his jaunty flagship Little Rebel Little Rebel.

After a full year of war, afloat and ash.o.r.e, a contradictory pattern was emerging. In naval actions-with the exception of Fort Donelson-whoever attacked was the winner; while in land actions of any size-again with the same notable exception-it was the other way around. Montgomery was satisfied, however, with the simpler fact that an ironclad could be sent to the bottom. He knew because he had done it twice in a single morning. Returning to a cheering reception at Memphis he informed Beauregard that if the Federal fleet remained at its present strength, "they will never penetrate farther down the Mississippi."

The Creole had need of all the a.s.surance and encouragement he could get. With Halleck knocking at its gate, Corinth was one vast groaning camp of sick and injured. Hotels and private residences, stables and churches, stores and even the railroad station were jammed, not only with the wounded back from Shiloh-eight out of ten amputees died, victims of erysipelas, teta.n.u.s, and shock-but also with a far greater number incapacitated by a variety of ailments. For lack of sanitary precautions, unknown or at any rate unpracticed, the inadequate water supply was soon contaminated. While dysentery claimed its toll, measles and typhoid fever both reached epidemic proportions. By mid-May, with the arrival of Van Dorn, Beauregard had 18,000 soldiers on the sick list, which left him 51,690 present for duty: well under half the number Halleck was bringing so cautiously against him.

He had done what he could to increase that caution at every opportunity. Many of the "deserters," for example, who had given the Union commander such alarming information as to the strength and intentions of the invaders, had been sent out by Beauregard himself, after intensive coaching on what to say when questioned. Valid prisoners were almost as misleading, for Beauregard had a report spread through the ranks that immediate advances were intended, and interrogated captives pa.s.sed it on. Nor did the inventive general neglect to organize diversions which he hoped would cause detachments from the army in his front. Two regiments of cavalry were ordered to a.s.semble at Trenton, Tennessee, then dash across western Kentucky for an attack on lightly held Paducah, meanwhile spreading the rumor that they were riding point for Van Dorn's army, which was on its way to seize the mouth of the Tennessee River and thus cut off Halleck's retreat when Beauregard struck him in front with superior numbers. A second, less ambitious cavalry project was intrusted to Captain John H. Morgan, who had shown promise on outpost duty the year before. He was promoted to colonel, given a war bag of $15,000, and sent to Kentucky to raise a regiment for disrupting the Federal rear. Though the former scheme was a failure-Beauregard blamed "the notorious incapacity of the officer in command"-the latter was carried out brilliantly from the outset. These were the gray raiders who caused Ormsby Mitchel to "contract" his line in North Alabama. However, it worked less well on the Corinth front. When Andrew Johnson protested that troops were needed to restrain Tennessee "disloyalists," the War Department referred the matter to Halleck, who refused to be disconcerted. "We are now at the enemy's throat," he replied, "and cannot release our great grasp to pare his toenails."

If Old Brains was to be stopped it would have to be done right here in front of Corinth, and Beauregard did what he could with what he had. His army took position along a ridge in rear of a protective creek, three to six miles out of town, thus occupying a quadrant which extended from the Mobile & Ohio on the north to the Memphis & Charleston Railroad on the east. Polk had the left, Bragg the center, and Hardee the right; Breckinridge and Van Dorn supported the flanks, being posted just in rear of the intersections of the railroads and the ridge. All through what was left of April and most of May, the defenders intrenched as furiously as the attackers, but with the advantage that while their opponents were honeycombing the landscape practically all the way from Monterey, their own digging was done in the same place from day to day. Even before Halleck started forward, the natural strength of the lines along the Corinth ridge had been greatly increased, and as he drew nearer they became quite formidable-especially in appearance. This was what Beauregard wanted: not only to give his men the added protection of solid-packed red earth, but also to free a portion of them for operations beyond the fortified perimeter, in case some segment of the advancing host grew careless and exposed itself, unsupported, to a sudden crippling slash by the gray veterans who had practiced such tactics at Elkhorn Tavern and Shiloh.

Pope was the likeliest to expose himself to such treatment, bristly as he was, and he had not been long in doing so. When he rushed forward in early May and took up an isolated position at Farmington, calling for the other commanders to hurry and catch up, Beauregard planned to destroy him by throwing Bragg at his front and Van Dorn on his flank. "Soldiers, can the result be doubtful?" he asked. "Shall we not drive back into the Tennessee the presumptuous mercenaries collected for our subjugation?" However, the result was worse than doubtful. Bragg hit Pope as planned, and hit him hard, but Van Dorn found the flank terrain quite different from the description in the attack order; Pope scurried back to safety before his flank was even threatened. In late May, when he returned to his old position-this time by more gradual approaches, allowing his fellow commanders to keep pace-Beauregard ordered the same trap sprung. Once more his hopes were high. "I feel like a wolf and will fight Pope like one," Van Dorn declared as he set out. But the results were the same as before, except that this time the Federals did not fall back, neither Pope nor the others alongside him.

The failure of this second attempt to repulse the Union host before it got a close-up hug on his intrenchments confirmed what Beauregard had suspected since mid-May. Outnumbered as he was, he would never be able to hold onto Corinth once the contest became a siege. In fact, if it came to that, he might not be able to hold onto his army. In addition to the water shortage and the lengthening sick-list, there was now a scarcity of food. The arrival of a herd of cattle, driven overland from Texas, had already saved the defenders from starvation, but the herd was dwindling fast. Even if the Yankees failed, disease and hunger would force him out in time. So on May 25 he called a conference of his generals: Bragg, Van Dorn, Polk, Hardee, Breckinridge, and Price. Hardee, as became a student, had prepared a statement of primer-like simplicity: "The situation...requires that we should attack the enemy at once, or await his attack, or evacuate the place." To attack such numbers, intrenched to their front, "would probably inflict on us and the Confederacy a fatal blow." The only answer, as Hardee saw it, was to fall back down the line of the M & O while there was still a chance to do so unmolested, no matter how slim that chance appeared to be.

Beauregard and the others could do nothing but agree: the more so two days later, when Halleck got his whole Grand Army up within range of the fortified ridge and next morning-May 28-opened a dawn-to-dusk cannonade, which paused from time to time to allow the infantry to probe for weak spots in the Confederate defenses. Fortunately, none developed; the wily Creole was left free to continue his plans for a withdrawal so secret that few of his officers suspected that one was intended. While the wounded and sick, along with the heavy baggage and camp equipment, were being evacuated by rail, the able-bodied men in the intrenchments were issued three days' cooked rations and told that they were about to launch an all-out attack: with the result that a timorous few-who indeed had cause to be frightened, being conscious of the odds-went over to the enemy with the news. Meanwhile the march details were formulated and rehea.r.s.ed, the generals being a.s.sembled at army headquarters and required to repeat their instructions by rote until all had mastered their parts. No smallest detail was neglected, down to the final arrangements for bewildering the Federal pursuit by removing all the finger boards and mileposts south of Corinth.

Next afternoon, of necessity, the front-line troops were told of the planned deception in time to prepare for it that evening. They responded with enthusiasm, glad to have a share in what promised to be the greatest hoax of the war, and some proved almost as resourceful and inventive as their commander. When they stole out of the intrenchments after nightfall, they left dummy guns in the embrasures and dummy cannoneers to serve them, fashioned by stuffing ragged uniforms with straw. A single band moved up and down the deserted works, pausing at scattered points to play retreat, tattoo, and taps. Campfires were left burning, with a supply of wood alongside each for the drummer boys who stayed behind to stoke them and beat reveille next morning. All night a train of empty cars rattled back and forth along the tracks through Corinth, stopping at frequent intervals to blow its whistle, the signal for a special detail of leather-lunged soldiers to cheer with all their might. The hope was that this would not only cover the incidental sounds of the withdrawal, but would also lead the Federals to believe that the town's defenders were being heavily reinforced.

It worked to perfection. Beauregard would have been delighted if he had had access to the messages flying back and forth in reaction behind the northern lines. At 1.20 in the morning Pope telegraphed Halleck: "The enemy is reinforcing heavily, by trains, in my front and on my left. The cars are running constantly, and the cheering is immense every time they unload in front of me. I have no doubt, from all appearances, that I shall be attacked in heavy force at daylight." He turned his men out and did what he could to brace them for the shock, while Halleck alerted the other commanders. At 4 o'clock, mysteriously, the rattling and the cheering stopped, giving way to a profound silence which was broken at dawn by "a succession of loud explosions." Daylight showed "dense black smoke in clouds," but no sign of the enemy Pope expected to find ma.s.sed in his front. Picking his way forward he came upon dummy guns and dummy cannoneers, some with broad grins painted on. Otherwise the works were deserted. So, apparently, was the town beyond. He sent back word of the evacuation, adding: "The whole country here seems to be fortified."

Halleck came out to see for himself. He had wanted a victory as bloodless as digging and maneuvering could make it; but not this bloodless, and above all not this empty. Even rebel civilians were scarce, all but two of the local families having departed with Beauregard's army. Seven full weeks of planning and strain, in command of the largest army ever a.s.sembled under one field general in the Western Hemisphere, had earned him one badly smashed-up North Mississippi railroad intersection.

In hope that more could yet be done, the order went out: "General Pope, with his reinforcements from the right wing, will proceed to feel the enemy on the left." Happy at being unleashed at last, Pope was hot on the trail with 50,000 men. At first there was little for him to "feel," but he reported joyfully: "The roads for miles are full of stragglers from the enemy, who are coming in in squads. Not less than 10,000 men are thus scattered about, who will come in within a day or two." This was mainly hearsay-like the information from a farmer that Beauregard, in a panic, had told his men to take to the woods and "save themselves as best they could"-but Halleck, anxious for a substantial achievement to put on the wire to Washington, was glad to hear it. Two days later, when Pope reported continuing success-a cavalry dash had destroyed an ammunition train and captured about 200 Confederate wounded-Halleck misunderstood him to mean that his former prediction had been fulfilled, and pa.s.sed the news along to the War Department that 10,000 prisoners and 15,000 stand of arms had been seized because of the boldness of Pope's pursuit. Duly elated, Stanton replied: "Your glorious dispatch has just been received, and I have sent it into every State. The whole land will soon ring with applause at the achievement of your gallant army and its able and victorious commander."

Adjectivally, this was rather in line with Halleck's own opinion. The day after Corinth fell he informed his troops that they had scored "a victory as brilliant and important as any recorded in history," one that was "more humiliating to [the leaders of the rebellion] and to their cause than if we had entered the place over the dead and mangled bodies of their soldiers." However, this was a good deal more than any of his generals would say: except possibly John Pope. McClernand still considered the campaign an "unhappy drama," and not even Sherman, glad as he was to be out in the open, wearing his new major general's stars, praised it for being anything more than a "drill." Harsher words were left to the newspaper correspondents, who had never admired the elbow-scratching commander anyhow. "General Halleck...has achieved one of the most barren triumphs of the war," the Chicago Tribune Tribune a.s.serted. "In fact, it is tantamount to a defeat." The Cincinnati a.s.serted. "In fact, it is tantamount to a defeat." The Cincinnati Commercial Commercial extended this into a flat statement that, by means of his sly withdrawal, "Beauregard [has] achieved another triumph." extended this into a flat statement that, by means of his sly withdrawal, "Beauregard [has] achieved another triumph."

These verdicts, these ex post facto condemnations, were delivered before all the testimony was in. Hoax or no, the Confederate retrograde movement was, after all, a retreat; and as such it had its consequences. Fort Pillow, being completely outflanked, was evacuated June 4, along with the supplementary Fort Randolph, fifteen miles below. Now all that stood between the Federal ironclads and Memphis was the eight-boat flotilla which had been resting on its laurels since the affair at Plum Run Bend. Captain Montgomery had said then that the Yankees would "never penetrate farther down" unless their fleet was reinforced; but two days after Pillow and Randolph were abandoned he discovered, in the most shocking way, that it had indeed been reinforced.

Back in March-after years of failing to interest the navy in his theory-an elderly civil engineer named Charles Ellet, Jr., wrote and sent to the War Department a pamphlet applying the formula f=mv2 to demonstrate the superiority of the ram as a naval weapon, particularly in river engagements, which allowed scant room for dodging. Stanton read it and reacted. He sent for the author, made him a colonel, and told him to build as many of the rams as he thought would be needed to knock the rebels off the Mississippi. Ellet got to work at once, purchasing and converting suitable steamers, and joined the ironclad fleet above Fort Pillow on May 25 with nine of the strange-looking craft. They carried neither guns nor armor, since neither had any place in the ma.s.s-velocity formula; nor did they have sharp dogtooth prows, which Ellet said would plug a hole as quickly as they punched one. All his dependence was on the two formula-components. Velocity was a.s.sured by installing engines designed to yield a top speed of fifteen knots, which would make them the fastest things on the river, and "ma.s.s" was attained by packing the bows with lumber and running three solid bulkheads, a foot or more in thickness, down the length of each vessel, so that the impact of the whole rigid unit would be delivered at a single stroke. Engines and boilers were braced for the shock of ramming, and the crews were river men whose courage Ellet tested in various ways, getting rid of many in the process. Perhaps his greatest caution, however, was shown in the selection of his captains. All were Pennsylvanians, like himself, and all were named Ellet. Seven were brothers and nephews of the designer-commander, and the eighth was his nineteen-year-old son. to demonstrate the superiority of the ram as a naval weapon, particularly in river engagements, which allowed scant room for dodging. Stanton read it and reacted. He sent for the author, made him a colonel, and told him to build as many of the rams as he thought would be needed to knock the rebels off the Mississippi. Ellet got to work at once, purchasing and converting suitable steamers, and joined the ironclad fleet above Fort Pillow on May 25 with nine of the strange-looking craft. They carried neither guns nor armor, since neither had any place in the ma.s.s-velocity formula; nor did they have sharp dogtooth prows, which Ellet said would plug a hole as quickly as they punched one. All his dependence was on the two formula-components. Velocity was a.s.sured by installing engines designed to yield a top speed of fifteen knots, which would make them the fastest things on the river, and "ma.s.s" was attained by packing the bows with lumber and running three solid bulkheads, a foot or more in thickness, down the length of each vessel, so that the impact of the whole rigid unit would be delivered at a single stroke. Engines and boilers were braced for the shock of ramming, and the crews were river men whose courage Ellet tested in various ways, getting rid of many in the process. Perhaps his greatest caution, however, was shown in the selection of his captains. All were Pennsylvanians, like himself, and all were named Ellet. Seven were brothers and nephews of the designer-commander, and the eighth was his nineteen-year-old son.

Anxious to put f=mv2 to work, the thin-faced lank-haired colonel was for going down and pitching into the rebel flotilla as soon as he joined up, but Flag Officer Davis had learned caution at Plum Run Bend. In spite of the fact that both sunken ironclads had been raised from their shallow graves and put back into service, the fleet was still under strength, three of its seven units having returned to Cairo for repairs. No matter, Ellet said; he and his kinsmen were still for immediate action, with or without the ironclads. But Davis continued to refuse the "concurrence" Stanton had told the colonel he would have to have in working with the navy. to work, the thin-faced lank-haired colonel was for going down and pitching into the rebel flotilla as soon as he joined up, but Flag Officer Davis had learned caution at Plum Run Bend. In spite of the fact that both sunken ironclads had been raised from their shallow graves and put back into service, the fleet was still under strength, three of its seven units having returned to Cairo for repairs. No matter, Ellet said; he and his kinsmen were still for immediate action, with or without the ironclads. But Davis continued to refuse the "concurrence" Stanton had told the colonel he would have to have in working with the navy.

The Confederates in Memphis, knowing nothing of all this, had a.s.sumed from reports that the new arrivers were some kind of transport. They relied on the guns of Forts Pillow and Randolph; or if the batteries failed to stop the Yankees, there was still the eight-boat flotilla which had given them such a drubbing three weeks back. Moreover, as at New Orleans, the keels of two monster ironclads, the Arkansas Arkansas and the and the Tennessee Tennessee, had been laid in the city's yards. The former, having been launched and armored up to her maindeck, was floated down to Vicksburg, then towed up the Yazoo River for completion in safety after the fall of Island Ten; but the latter was still on the stocks, awaiting the arrival of her armor. Like the city itself, she would have to take her chances that the enemy would be stopped.

Those chances were considerably thinned by the evacuation of Corinth and the two forts upriver. It now became a question of which would get there first, a sizeable portion of Halleck's Grand Army or the Federal fleet. The citizens hoped it would be the latter, for they had the gunboat flotilla to stand in its way, while there was absolutely nothing at all to stand in the way of the former. They got their wish. At dawn of June 6, two days after Fort Pillow was abandoned, the ironclads showed up, coming round the bend called Paddy's Hen and Chickens, four of them in line abreast just above the city, offering battle to the eight Confederate gunboats. The people turned out in tens of thousands, lining the bluffs for a grandstand seat at what they hoped would be a reenactment of the affair at Plum Run Bend. The first shot was fired at sunup, and they cheered and waved their handkerchiefs as at a tableau when the southern gunboats, mounting 28 light cannon, moved out to meet their squat black bug-shaped northern opponents, mounting 68, mostly heavy.

Ellet had his rams in rear of the ironclad line of battle. When the first shot was fired, he took off his hat and waved it to attract the attention of his brother commanding the ram alongside his own. "Round out and follow me! Now is our chance!" he cried. Both boats sprang forward under full heads of steam and knifed between the ironclads, whose crews gave them a cheer as they went by. Ellet made straight for the Colonel Lovell Colonel Lovell, leader of the Confederate line, and when she swerved at the last minute to avoid a head-on collision, struck her broadside and cut her almost in two. She sank within a few minutes: brief, conclusive proof of the relation between force and mv2. Meanwhile his brother had accomplished something different. Striking for the General Price General Price, which held her course while the General Beauregard General Beauregard moved to aid her by converging on the ram, he darted between the two-which then collided in his wake. The moved to aid her by converging on the ram, he darted between the two-which then collided in his wake. The General Price General Price lost one of her sidewheels, sheared off in the crash, and while she limped toward bank, out of the fight, the ram came about in a long swift curve and rammed the lost one of her sidewheels, sheared off in the crash, and while she limped toward bank, out of the fight, the ram came about in a long swift curve and rammed the Beauregard Beauregard at the moment the rebel's steam drum was punctured by a sh.e.l.l from one of the ironclads. She struck her colors. at the moment the rebel's steam drum was punctured by a sh.e.l.l from one of the ironclads. She struck her colors.

Four of the remaining five did not last much longer, and none ever managed to come to grips with an adversary. Montgomery's Little Rebel Little Rebel, the only screw steamer of the lot, took a sh.e.l.l in her machinery, then went staggering into the Arkansas bank, where her crew made off through the woods. The Jeff Thompson Jeff Thompson was set afire by a Federal broadside; the was set afire by a Federal broadside; the Sumter Sumter and the and the Bragg Bragg, like the flagship, were knocked into bank by the Dahlgrens. The whole engagement lasted no longer than the one at Plum Run Bend, which it avenged. One Confederate was sunk beyond raising; two were burned; four were captured, and in time became part of the fleet they had fought. Van Dorn Van Dorn, the only survivor, managed to get enough of a head start in the confusion to make a getaway downriver. Two of the rams gave chase for a while, but then turned back to join the celebration.

The cheering was all on the river, where the rams and ironclads anch.o.r.ed unopposed, not on the bluffs, where the cheers had turned to groans. Smoke had blanketed the water; all the spectators could see was the flash of Union guns and the tall paired stacks of Confederate steamboats riding above the murk. Pair by pair, in rapid order, the crown-top chimneys disappeared. "The deep sympathizing wail which followed each disaster," one who heard it wrote, "went up like a funeral dirge from the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude, and had an overwhelming pathos." When the sun-dazzled smoke finally cleared away they saw that their flotilla had been not only defeated but abolished, and they turned sadly away to await the occupation which the Corinth retreat had made inevitable anyhow. There still was time to burn the Tennessee Tennessee, sitting armorless on the stocks, and this they did, taking considerable satisfaction in at least making sure that she would never be part of the fleet whose destruction had been the aim of her designers. It was bitter, however, to surrender as they did to a nineteen-year-old medical cadet, Colonel Ellet's son, who landed in a rowboat with three seamen and a folded flag, the stars and stripes, which presently he was hoisting over the post office. Later that day the two regiments Pope had left behind marched in for the formal occupation. Thus was Memphis returned to her old allegiance.

Colonel Ellet himself did not come ash.o.r.e. The only Federal casualty of the engagement, he had been pinked in the knee by a pistol ball while waving his hat on the hurricane deck of his flagship, directing the ram attack. The wound, though painful, was not considered dangerous; p.r.o.ne on the deck, he continued in command throughout the fight; but infection set in, and he died of it two weeks later, while being taken north aboard one of the rams. Before his death, however, he had the satisfaction of proving his theory in action and of knowing that his genius-in conjunction with the no doubt larger genius of that other civil engineer, James Eads-had cleared the Mississippi down to Vicksburg, whose batteries now would be grist for Davis' and Farragut's upper and nether millstones.

At Tupelo, where he called a halt fifty-two miles south of Corinth, Beauregard was infuriated by Halleck's widely circulated dispatch which glorified Pope at the Creole's expense by claiming a large bag of demoralized prisoners and abandoned equipment. He hotly replied, through the columns of newspapers guilty of spreading this libel, that the report "contained as many lies as lines." Far from being a rout, he said, or even a reverse, "the retreat was conducted with great order and precision, doing much credit to the officers and men under my orders, and must be looked upon, in every respect, by the country as equivalent to a brilliant victory."

Not all of his own countrymen agreed with him, any more than Halleck's had agreed with Halleck; but in the Southerner's case the dissenters included the Chief Executive. While the army was falling back, exposing his home state and the river down its western flank to deeper penetration, Davis told his wife: "If Mississippi troops lying in camp, when not retreating under Beauregard, were at home, they would probably keep a section of the river free for our use and closed against Yankee transports." The general had been sent west to help recover territory, not surrender more, and when it became evident after Shiloh that this was not to be accomplished, an intimate of the Davis circle wrote prophetically in her diary in reference to the hero of Sumter and Mana.s.sas: "c.o.c.k robin is as dead as he ever will be now. What matters it who killed him?"

As if in confirmation, soon after the loss of Memphis and its covering flotilla opened the river south to Vicksburg, the Tupelo commander received from the Adjutant General in Richmond a telegraphic warning that trouble was brewing for him there: "The President has been expecting a communication explaining your last movement. It has not yet arrived." Beauregard replied: "Have had no time to write report. Busy organizing and preparing for battle if pursued.... Retreat was a most brilliant and