which he believed would lead him (unchecked, even if opposed) to easy, speedy and decisive conquest. No thought of danger to himself, disturbed these pleasant anticipations.
The suggestion that an attack from the Confederate forces at Corinth was imminent, would have been dismissed as the idlest and weakest of apprehensions. The different corps moved from their respective positions, on the railroads which enter Corinth, by the most direct roads to the point indicated for their concentration.
General Johnson had declared, some weeks previously, with prophetic judgment, that upon that very spot, "the great battle of the Southwest would be fought."
Breckinridge's division, to which Morgan's squadron was now attached, moved from Byrnesville. The roads were narrow and miry, and were not improved by a heavy rain which fell during the march, and by the passage of successive trains of wagons and batteries of artillery. The march was slow and toilsome. The infantry labored along with mud-clogged feet, casting sour looks and candid curses at the cavalry and couriers, who bespattered them. The artillery often stuck fast, and the struggling horses failed to move the pieces, until the cannoneers applied themselves and pushed and strained at the heavy wheels.
On the 5th, about three or four in the afternoon, every thing was concentrated upon the ground, where General Johnson proposed to establish his line, and the disposition of the forces, in accordance with the plan of battle, was at once commenced. On account of some accident, or mistake, this concentration was effected one day later than had been contemplated, causing a corresponding delay in the attack. It has frequently been asserted that this was occasioned by the failure of General Polk's corps to arrive at the appointed time.
General Polk's report demonstrates the injustice of this statement, and it is probable that the condition of the roads was the sole cause of the delay.
A want of promptness upon the part of General Polk, no doubt would have produced a suspension of the attack. A corps so strong and efficient, could have been ill-spared from an army, already inferior in numbers to the antagonist it was about to assail, and the absence of the brave old Bishop from the field, would have been, of itself, a serious loss. This delay was the cause of grave apprehensions to many of the Confederate Generals, and, as matters were managed, was really unfortunate.
It was known that Buell was marching rapidly to the support of Grant, and General Johnson wished to crush the latter before their junction was effected.
General Beauregard was of opinion that the attack, having been so long delayed, ought to be abandoned altogether; that it would now be extremely hazardous, and that the safety of the army would be compromised if it did not retire promptly to Corinth.
General Johnson listened courteously to every argument, but was moved by none to relinquish his plan. His resolution to fight, after placing his army in front of the enemy, was fixed. He believed, "the offensive once assumed, ought to be maintained at all hazards." He trusted that vigor and audacity would enable him to accomplish victory on the first day, before the fresh troops came, and his designs were too profoundly considered, his gallant faith in his soldiers, too earnest, for his purpose to be shaken. In answer to an anxious inquiry from his aide, Colonel William Preston, he said, quietly, "I would fight them were they a million."
The ground selected for battle was that inclosed between Owl and Lick creeks, which run nearly parallel with each other, and empty into the Tennessee river. The flanks of the two armies rested upon these little streams, and the front of each was just the distances, at their respective positions, between the two creeks. The Confederate front was, consequently, a little more than three miles long. The distance between the creeks widens somewhat, as they approach the river, and the Federal army had more ground upon which to deploy. The position which the enemy occupied next morning, is five or six miles from the river, and his advance camp was perhaps a mile southward of Shiloh Church. He had, as yet, established no line; the attack next morning took him completely by surprise, and he formed after the fight had commenced.
General Johnson's effective strength, including all the forces available for that battle, was about thirty-five thousand men. That of the enemy was, perhaps, forty-five thousand men. The advantages of attack and surprise would, General Johnson thought, more than counterbalance his numerical inferiority. If Buell brought reinforcements to his opponents, by forced marches, in advance of his army, he would feel their effect only in a stronger line, and more stubborn resistance upon the front – his flanks would be safe in any event. The array of his forces evinced a resolution to break through and crush, at any cost, whatever should confront him in the narrow space where the whole conflict would be crowded.
The troops were bivouacked that night upon the ground which it was intended that they should occupy in line of battle. No disposition which could be made that evening was delayed; every precaution was taken to guard against a further procrastination of the attack. The men laid down to sleep in the order in which they were to rush upon the enemy.
General Hardee had command of the first line, General Bragg of the second, and General Polk of the third. General Hardee's line extended from the one creek to the other, and as his corps (fully deployed) could not properly occupy the entire distance, he was reinforced by a fine brigade under Brigadier General Gladden. To Hardee was given the honor of commencing the battle, and he was ordered to push his whole line rapidly forward, at early dawn. General Bragg's line was formed similarly to General Hardee's, and about a quarter of a mile in its rear. Bragg was ordered to advance simultaneously with Hardee, and to support him when he needed assistance. Then, at the distance of eight hundred yards, came General Polk's corps, not deployed, but formed in column of brigades. General Breckinridge's division (over six thousand strong) constituted the reserve, and was close in the rear of Polk's corps. The cavalry was promiscuously disposed – indeed, no one in authority seemed to think it could win the battle. Morgan's squadron was formed with the Kentucky troops, and occupied the extreme left of Breckinridge's division. This disposition of the forces and the energetic conduct of the Confederate commanders, explain the striking features of the battle, which have been so often remarked – the methodical success of the Confederates, upon the first day, the certainty with which they won their way forward against the most determined resistance; the "clock-like" regularity of their advance, the desperate struggle, the Federal retreat, repeated again and again through the day. Taking into consideration the circumstances under which the collision occurred, military savants will, some day, demonstrate that success ought, with mathematical certainty, to have resulted from the tactics of General Johnson. An army moving to attack (an enemy, surprised and unprepared), in three lines, supported by a reserve, and with its flanks perfectly protected, ought to have delivered crushing and continuous blows. Such a formation, directed by consummate skill and the finest nerve in a commander, of troops who believed that to fight would be to win, promised an onset well nigh irresistible.
The afternoon wore away and no sign in the enemy's camps indicated that he had discovered our presence. The night fell, and, the stern preparations for the morrow, having been all completed, the army sank to rest. The forest was soon almost as still as before it had been tenanted with the hosts of war. But, before the day broke, the army was astir; the bugles sounded the reveille on all sides, and the long lines began to form. About five o'clock, the first gun rang on the front – another and another, succeeding, as our skirmishers pressed on, until the musketry grew into the crackling, labored sound, which precedes the roar of real battle. The troops seemed excited to frenzy by the sound. It was the first fight in which the majority of them had ever been engaged, and they had, as yet, seen and suffered nothing to abate the ardor with which the high-spirited young fellows panted for battle. Every one who witnessed that scene – the marshaling of the Confederate army for attack upon the morning of the sixth of April – must remember more distinctly than any thing else, the glowing enthusiasm of the men, their buoyancy and spirited impatience to close with the enemy. As each regiment formed upon the ground where it had bivouacked, the voice of its commander might be heard as he spoke high words of encouragement to his men, and it would ring clearer as he appealed to their regimental pride, and bade them think of the fame
