Story from Shiloh

This is another in the “Sunday Story” series. No politics here – just some true tales from a battlefield “geek”.  

There is something about a battlefield:  a peace and calm that belies the action that took place there.  Walking where armies struggled, men triumphed and failed; survived and died – there is a depth, almost a spirit in the land.  It’s a pull back to the past, as if the events on that property still reverberate somehow in the air.  Is it haunted?  Not in my experience, but the life and death struggles of so many, so concentrated in one place must have some timely “ripple effect”.  At any rate, there are few other places (old cemeteries, Medieval Cathedrals, abandoned towns, prisons and schools) that have that kind of pull.

I’ve already  told stories of the Gettysburg Battlefield  (Ghosts at Gettysburg).  It’s still my favorite.  But I’ve visited many other Civil War sites, and, of course, there are stories from those as well.

Road Trip

If you own a Jeep Wrangler with a soft top – there’s nothing like a summer road trip.  Put the top down, take the doors off, and head out on the highway to destinations – unknown?  Well, like that Geico motorcycle commercial, I usually had a destination, but I could always change my course for “any old” reason.  

This time I was headed to Shiloh in Southern Tennessee, the first really ugly battle of the Civil War.  It’s a long Jeep ride, 545 miles from Pataskala to Savannah, Tennessee the nearest town to the battlefield.  The journey is all about the “River Towns”:  Cincinnati to Louisville, Louisville to Nashville, then head west towards the Mississippi River and Memphis. You turn back south about an hour short of the home of blues and barbecue, and head into the countryside until you hit the Tennessee River once again near Savannah, Tennessee.  You’ve arrived.

Rivers and Railroads

The rivers were what the battle at Shiloh was all about.  The “grand strategy” of the Union Army was to slice the Confederacy into pieces, preventing commerce and supplies from supporting the various Rebel Armies.  The Mississippi River was the obvious line of attack, but to control it, the Union had to gain control of the land on each side.  

So the newly minted Union General Ulysses S Grant of Illinois began at the Kentucky, Illinois border winning control of Northern Mississippi River. Then at Paducah, Kentucky he headed South by going up the Tennessee River. He made his “fame” with the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson in Kentucky (Ulysses S became known as “Unconditional Surrender” Grant from there) then continued south into Tennessee. Ultimately, he woud cut off and captured the vital Mississippi River town of Memphis.

The next line of Confederate supply was the railroad center at Corinth, Mississippi.  The Mobile and Ohio line intersected with the Memphis and Charleston line, making the small town a major supply depot for the Southern Army of the West.  It was the center of east and west railroad transportation.  40000 men were headquartered there under the command of General Albert Sidney Johnston.

Surprise at Shiloh

So Grant moved his almost 45000 man Army of the Tennessee further up the Tennessee River, camping above the river bluffs across from a steamboat stop called Pittsburg Landing, just south of Savannah and a little over twenty miles north of Corinth.  He didn’t expect the Confederates to attack.  He “anticipated” they would defend Corinth.   Grant spread his soldiers all over the near countryside, waiting for the 17000 man Army of Ohio to come up the River and join him.  Some of his men camped around a small log church, built by the Methodists,  called “Shiloh”.  

Johnston realized that Grant’s forces were vulnerable and unprepared for an attack.  So he moved out of Corinth, and marched in full force at Grant.  His three day march caught the Union Army by surprise, spread out on the bluffs above the Tennessee River, across from Pittsburg Landing, around the little Methodist church called Shiloh.

Well, that turned into a history lesson. All I need is a chalkboard and I’d be back in the classroom. Or today, it’s a PowerPoint on the Smart Board.  I guess old teacher’s never give up.  

Blood

But to finish the story – it was the largest land battle on the North American continent up to that spring in April of 1862.  Over 80000 men pitched into combat, at least half completely unprepared for what was to come.  The Confederates marched for three days, and caught the Union soldiers coming out of their tents for breakfast.  Some were shot as they emerged to see what was going on.  Others fled at the screaming hoard of Gray, the “unholy” Rebel yell that struck fear in their hearts.  And some loaded their rifles and responded.  But it was too few and too late to staunch the first Confederate charge.

And the battle could have been won in the first  few hours of that April morning.  But the Rebel charge faltered over Union bacon and pancakes. The Confederate men were hungry from three days on the road. It was too much to pass the Union breakfast, and that slowed them just enough so that the Union officers could reorganize and respond.  They continued to fall back towards the bluffs and the Tennessee River, but it was a slow, measured, holding ground when they could and retreating when they must.

Albert Sidney Johnston

Confederate General Albert Sidney Johnson could feel victory.  He rode his horse too close to the action, and caught a stray Minié-ball in his leg. (A Minié-ball was actually a large caliber piece of lead.  When it hit, it was with slower speed than modern rifles.  So it struck, spun, and caused an enormous amount of damage.  There were so many amputations in the Civil War because there was often nothing left of the shattered bones struck by a bullet).

Johnston could easily have been saved.  If he would just have dismounted, a surgeon could have applied a tourniquet to his leg.  But Johnston was too enraptured with pending victory.  There was no time for treatment.  So he bled to death into his own boot.

Hornet’s Nest

Meanwhile the Union forces consolidated in a small forested area. Confederates converged on three sides, firing thousands of rounds into the wood. The Confederates said it sounded like a hornet’s nest after it was shaken, so many bullets were zinging and striking from the woods and into the bodies of their men. The Confederates charged the Hornet’s Nest eight times, but failed to dislodge them. It was only by near encircling them that the Union forces were forced to withdraw.

But the holding action at the Hornet’s Nest, and the loss of the Confederate commander, slowed the pace of battle.  As night fell, Grant, injured in the battle as well when his horse fell on him, organized a final defensive line.  The Union Army of the Tennessee would live to fight another day.  Grant and his best subordinate, William Tecumseh Sherman spoke that night.  Sherman, worried that they could continue the fight said,“Well, Grant, we’ve had the devil’s own day, haven’t we?” Grant responded, “Yes, lick ’em to-morrow, though.”

Lick-‘Em Tomorrow

That night, Grant and Sherman planned a counter attack.  Meanwhile, the 17000 men of the Army of the Ohio arrived, and marched up the bluffs from the river, passing the frightened Union men huddled against the sides.  The next day, Grant counter-attacked, and drove the Confederates back towards Corinth.  It would be a few weeks before Grant took Corinth itself, but when he snatched victory from the jaws of defeat at Shiloh, that outcome was inevitable. Memphis fell to the Union soon after.

There were almost 4000 dead combined from both sides,  and another 16000 wounded.  It was the bloodiest battle in American History – that is, for the next six months. A battle in a small village called Sharpsburg near the Antietam Creek,  would come in September.

Red Hornets

So I spent two days wandering the battlefield at Shiloh.  It’s like a great park, especially on a weekday in the summer time.  It’s hot, in the Jeep, in South Tennessee in July, and I had almost the entire place to myself.  So there is no one to confirm this story – but me.

I was driving along the “sunken road” that runs by the Hornet’s Nest.  I was in the Jeep, no top or doors, just wearing a T shirt and a pair of shorts.  It was 90 plus degrees, and there was no one to notice around.  As I drove slowly down the park road, I stared intently into the small woods.  I could almost see the men hiding in the trees, the branches snapping off above their heads, the wood splintering from the cannon shots.  I could even actually hear the low buzz of the “hornets” – the historic Minié balls in the air.

Then I glanced up to see where I was headed – and there was the largest, reddest, hornet I’ve ever seen, hovering right in front of my face between my hands at ten and two on the steering wheel.  Maybe it was two inches long; it almost looked like a plastic toy.  But it was making very lifelike noises, the “low buzz of a hornet…”

As I said, there was no one around.  I did the “manly” thing, especially in the face of the courage shown by the brave men who fought here.  I jumped out of the Jeep!!

Now keep in mind, my Jeep wouldn’t go far.  It was a four speed, and without some pressure on the accelerator it would soon stall out.  (It was my old Jeep, a 1993, not my “new” one of 2004 vintage).  So as I rolled in the grass it continued down the road a bit, then shuddered to a stop.  I warily approached it, waiting to make my retreat to the “bluffs” if required.  But there was no need:  the red hornet of the “hornet’s nest” had made its exit.

I got back behind the wheel, and spent some time at the Shiloh Church, and at the National Military Cemetery as well, to honor those who gave, as Lincoln said, “…their last full measure of devotion”.   And then I headed home – and discovered a whole non-military national park.

The Parkways

Most folks have heard of the Blue Ridge Parkway, the Park/Highway that follows the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains from North Carolina, above the Shenandoah Valley all the way to Northern Virginia.  It’s a beautiful vacation ride, with easy exits to hotels, stores and towns.  It’s peaceful:  no trucks (though there are some campers) and lots of folks driving and enjoying the view.  But beware – there are “vista jams”!  No one is in a hurry on the Parkway.

So I headed east on Tennessee Route 64, with the idea that I would meander my way back up to Nashville by staying off of the Interstates.  After I passed the town of Waynesboro, I came across something called the “Natchez Trace Parkway”.  This was before the era of I Phones and even Garmin’s.  My directions were from a map, carefully tucked under the emergency brake hand lever so it didn’t blow out of the car.

The Natchez Trace Parkway runs 444 miles from Natchez, Mississippi to just south of Nashville.  Like the Blue Ridge, it is a two lane highway with parkland on either side for the entire route.  It’s not a route for those in a hurry, but for a guy in a Jeep in the summertime it was a perfect path for a journey north through central Tennessee.  Originally it was the “overland” route from Nashville to the Mississippi River, it bit faster than more direct routes to the river in a wagon if the load wasn’t too big.  Now it’s a quiet highway surrounded by nature, with easy access to “civilization” if needed.

I followed the “Trace” north towards Nashville.  It ends just south, near the town of Franklin.  There was a Civil War battle there too.  But that’s for a different story.

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.