Review: The Forts Henry and Donelson Campaign: February 6–16, 1862

The Forts Henry andDonelson Campaign: February 6–16, 1862

Edited by Steven E. Woodworth and Charles D. Grear

The capture of Forts Henry and Donelson in February 1862 marked one of the most important early turning points of the American Civil War. Yet, despite their enormous strategic significance, these operations sometimes receive less attention than the more celebrated campaigns and battles that followed. In The Forts Henry and Donelson Campaign: February 6–16, 1862, editors Steven E. Woodworth and Charles D. Grear have assembled a collection of seven essays that revisit this pivotal campaign and offer readers several fresh perspectives on the events that opened the Confederate heartland to Union invasion.

The Union victories at Fort Henry on February 6 and Fort Donelson on February 16 transformed the military situation in the Western Theater. Under the combined efforts of General Ulysses S. Grant and Flag Officer Andrew H. Foote, Federal forces gained access to the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers, forcing Confederate withdrawals from Kentucky and much of western Tennessee. The surrender of more than 13,000 Confederate soldiers at Fort Donelson also brought national attention to Grant and established his reputation as a determined military commander.

Rather than simply retelling the familiar story of these engagements, the contributors examine several aspects of the campaign that deserve greater attention. Among the subjects explored are the influence of environmental conditions on military operations, the cooperation between the Union Army and Navy, Nathan Bedford Forrest's decisions at Fort Donelson, and the Confederate breakout attempt of February 15. Other essays examine Brigadier General Charles F. Smith's decisive assault against the Confederate defenses, Colonel Gabriel C. Wharton's efforts to justify the surrender, and the reaction of Texans to the Confederate defeats.

One of the strengths of this collection is its variety. Michael Burns's examination of environmental conditions reminds readers that weather, terrain, and geography could be just as influential as the decisions made by commanding generals. Blakeney K. Hill's discussion of Union Army-Navy cooperation offers an interesting look at the challenges of conducting joint military operations. Jonathan M. Steplyk's examination of the Confederate breakout attempt is particularly worthwhile, drawing upon soldiers' letters and diaries to explore what participants on both sides could actually see and understand amid the confusion of battle.

I also found the essays examining Confederate leadership and the consequences of defeat especially interesting. The contributions by Sheilah R. Elwardani and Charles D. Grear extend the discussion beyond the battlefield, exploring how Confederate officers attempted to defend their decisions and how the defeats affected Texans' understanding of the war. These chapters help demonstrate that the consequences of Forts Henry and Donelson extended well beyond the immediate loss of two military installations.

The editors have succeeded in bringing together established and emerging historians to examine a campaign from several different perspectives. Even readers who are already familiar with the events of February 1862 should find something new and worthwhile in these essays.

The Forts Henry and Donelson Campaign is a welcome addition to the Civil War Campaigns in the West series and a useful contribution to the scholarship of the Western Theater. For anyone interested in the early career of Ulysses S. Grant, the development of Union river operations, or the military collapse of Confederate positions in Kentucky and Tennessee, this book deserves its place on everyone’s Civil War bookshelf.

ISBN 978-0809339976, Southern Illinois University Press, © 2026, Paperback, 164 Pages, Maps, Tables, Photographs, End Notes follow each essay & Index. $24.95.  To Purchase the book click HERE.

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 7, 1862

Isaac Arwine was wounded very bad in the Sholder. the ball entered the right sholder and lodged in the left sholder. now at present he is in very bad misery and is thought that he wont live. he said he thought he was a dead man.

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 9, 1862

I am still in Camp waiting on Arwine and the Boys that is wounded. There is any amount of legs, arms, hands lying around in Damp that had to be cut off on account of thair bones being broken. the Doctors are taking off arms, and legs and hands evry day. it is nothing to see them cut a mans arm off or a leg. I hope to God that I wont have to witness the same again. it is horable to think of.

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 11, 1862

The wounded has nothing to ly in but leaves and rocks and nothing to eat but some Buisket made with water and some coffee without any cream.

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 12, 1862

the Doctors are stil taken legs and Arms off everyday. there is no excitement. Arwine is in great misery and isnt expected to live.

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 13, 1862

this morning is very warm day and Arwine very bad. he was very bad all night and to day about eleven oclock Arwine died. we laid him on a hard board out of doors and Buried him about three oclock. We put a cople of Blankets around him and put him in a big grave and covered him up. it looks hard but cant be helped. there wasent no Man that suffered any more. while he lived his pain was so great that it gave him the lock jaw. he was in his rite mind all the while. half of his breath cam out of the wound on his back. he smelt awful. it was enough to make any bady sick to be around him. He wanted the Doctor to give him something to ease him and put him to sleep so he would never wake up again. he said he was sorry that he could not get home once more. but he said it was the fate of War and his time has come and he must go.

_______________

NOTE: Private Isaac Arwine is buried in Section 2, Grave 20, in the Fayetteville National Cemetery, Fayetteville, Arkansas.  Private Vinson Holman, Company C, 9th Iowa Volunteers, died of jaundice December 7, 1862. He was 20 years old.

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Private Vinson Holman, March 25, 1862

only last night we discarded our close and found out that the Hospittle was full of Body lice. they had got on most of us. I hear every Hospittle in town are full of them. how they got here God only knows. I don’t

SOURCE: Vinson Holman Diary Exerpts, Pea Ridge National Military Park: https://www.nps.gov/peri/learn/historyculture/vinsonholman.htm accessed November 9, 2026

Diary of Musician David Lane, November 10, 1863

Lenoir.  No sooner was the order to build winter quarters given than the men scattered in all directions in search of material. There are many forsaken buildings in this vicinity. These were visited, the siding ripped off, floors torn up, chimneys, if brick, pulled down, and the material appropriated. Hundreds of men worked all night, and by morning had lumber enough to build bunks, floors and gable ends to their buildings. The reason of this all-night work was to get the start of the officers. They knew, by past experience, all building material would soon be put under guard for the use of officers. A large brick storehouse at the depot had been burned. This was seized by headquarters. Not a brick could be obtained, only as it was stolen in the night. Just the same, the boys all had brick chimneys.

Not being disposed to work nights or Sundays, my tent mates and myself did not begin to build until Monday morning. In the forenoon we cut our logs and carried them about half a mile on our backs.

In the afternoon two of us laid the foundations, while the other two went with the Sutler's team for a load of stone for our chimney. They also picked up a few boards. Tuesday we began to build in earnest—two at the house and two at the chimney—carrying them both up together. At night it was ready for the roof.

Wednesday we "chunked and daubed" it, and put on the roof, built our bunks, and, toward night, moved in. Thursday we finished the chimney, put up shelves, etc. We have a warm, comfortable house, seven logs high, roofed with two thicknesses of tent cloth, which makes a very good roof. Our bunk is in one end, and occupies four feet across it, leaving a room six feet by eight. We have a splendid fireplace—back and jambs of stone, the top of sticks. In one corner are shelves for our dishes. On one side of the room is a drop table, which we button to the wall when not in use. Our bunk is not made of poles, rough and crooked, like those of last winter, but of pine boards, soft and luxurious.

On Thursday we had regimental inspection of I told the boys I heard "music in the air," but they could not believe it. It was there, however. About 10 o'clock in the evening Captain Tyler came to our tent and called for me. He told me to wake the boys and tell them to pack their things and be ready to take cars in half an hour for Knoxville. Here was a fix—to leave our soft beds and warm houses, our winter quarters, and go out into the cold—it was bitter cold—to ride on the top of cars twenty, perhaps seventy-five miles, and sleep—if sleep we might—on the cold, damp ground, and march twenty or thirty miles a day on half rations. But away we went, the Third Brigade only, to the station. It was 2 o'clock in the morning before the cars were ready, and we reached Knoxville a little after sunrise. Here we learned the cause of the movement. The Rebels had made a dash on Wilcox, near Greenville, capturing a section of the Second Ohio Battery and part of the Second Tennessee Mounted Infantry. Not knowing their strength, we were ordered to be within supporting distance while a force of cavalry was sent out to reconnoitre. We drew full rations of soft bread and beef, and lay on the cars, the engine keeping up steam until about 4 p. m. We then encamped for the night. Next morning we again drew rations, packed our things and awaited orders with impatience. But no orders came, and there we lay and waited all that livelong day.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 115-7

Diary of Musician David Lane, November 11, 1863

Lenoir, Tenn.  This morning we were aroused by the Orderly at 3 o'clock, with orders to be ready to move at daylight. We sprang out of bed, built fires, cooked breakfast, which consisted of pancakes made of wheat flour and corn meal, issued in place of bread, beefsteak and coffee; packed up, and then sat down to await the coming of day. At 6 o'clock the bugle sounded, and we fell in and stacked arms. We then received orders to go to our quarters and be ready to fall in at a minute's notice. And so the matter has stood all day, and still remains. The reason for the movement is as follows: The Second Division has been engaged today in throwing a pontoon bridge across the Holston about a mile from here, and, not knowing the strength of the enemy, on the opposite side, we are to be ready to support them if necessary.

The bridge is nearly completed, and the Rebels have not shown themselves. Tomorrow the Second Division is to cross over. I understand they are to build winter quarters on the other side.

A “contraband" came into camp yesterday and reported himself direct from Rebeldom. He appeared intelligent, and told a straightforward story. He reports the Rebels in strong force across the river, and says they are building pontoons in which to cross over to attack us. His information was considered so important General Ferrera [sic] sent him, under guard, to General Burnside at Knoxville.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 118-9

Diary of Musician David Lane, November 13, 1863

Lenoir, Tenn.  As the men are confined to camp, they busy themselves by cleaning up the accumulated rubbish. Our camp begins to put on airs. The men must get some clothing before they can do so. I see no prospect of it yet. The day has been most delightful-warm, bright and mellow. The weather here, as with us at this season of the year, is subject to sudden changes. Today it may be warm as summer; tomorrow the wind may change to the north and be cold as winter. Wood is abundant and of good quality mostly white oak and hickory. But should we stay here all winter, there will not be a tree left within five miles of here. We have already cleared about fifty acres.

Spite of appearances, I cannot think we will remain here until spring. I cannot see—perhaps I have no right to try to see where our supplies are to come from, or, rather, how they are to come. We have only six weeks quarter rations on hand, and the roads over the mountains are nearly impassable. There is some wheat and corn in the valley, which is being gathered in for the use of the army, but this cannot last long. Such an army, like the locusts of Egypt, will soon "devour every green thing." Even now hundreds of citizens are leaving for the North to escape the impending famine. In view of these facts, which are fully understood by every man in the regiment, one would expect them to be down-hearted and discouraged. Such is not the fact. The few men who are left are resolute, determined men, ready to suffer privation, to endure hardship, anything to advance the cause for which they are contending. An order is given to prepare for inspection. The Assistant Secretary of War is here to inspect the Ninth Corps. This may be an exception, but, as a rule, inspection means move.

I happened to get hold of a copy of the Detroit Free Press dated October 25th. From it I learn conscription has been postponed in Michigan until the 5th of November. By that time they hope to fill the quota by volunteers. I would like to see the North exhibit the energy and ability displayed by the South, but one-half seems to be asleep, the other half-mad.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 119-20

Diary of Musician David Lane, November 14, 1863

Lenoir, Tenn.  We have been under orders for several days to be ready to fall in at a minute's notice. That order was repeated at 3 o'clock this morning. We had become so accustomed to it, we began to think it only form, and meant nothing. At sunrise, however, we were startled by the order, "Pack everything and be ready to march immediately, bag and baggage." Officers' baggage was put on wagons, the sick in ambulances, supplies of food and clothing—a fresh supply had but just arrived were reloaded, and the whole train headed toward Knoxville.

Our consternation can better be imagined than described. Every movement spoke of evacuation; of hasty, inglorious retreat. About 10 o'clock the cars came screaming in from Knoxville, bringing General Burnside. The wagon train was nearly formed, and, in half an hour, everything would have been ready for a general stampede. At 10 o'clock the bugle sounded fall in, and off we started toward Loudon. It soon leaked out the Rebels are crossing six miles below Loudon, and Burnside's arrival had changed the program. So away we went, through rain and mud, fourteen miles without stopping to rest, rejoicing it was not, after all, an ignominous retreat. We halted a little after dark in a thick wood, with orders to light no fires, but remain beside our arms, ready to fall in when called on. It had been very warm during the day, raining at times, and those not wet with rain were wet with sweat. Toward night the wind had changed, and it was bitter cold. And there we sat, two hours or more, cold and hungry, having eaten nothing since morning. The men began to grow impatient. The First Brigade were on our left, and fires burned brightly all along their line. Why could not we have fires? Tom Epley, of our company, thought we could, and away he goes for a coal of fire, while others gather wood and kindlings. But our lynx-eyed Adjutant discovers it, and down he comes. "Who built that fire?" says he. "I did, sir," says Tom. "Didn't you know 'twas against orders?" "No, sir; I thought the order was one fire to a company, sir." "You must put it out."

Then how the h--l are we to cook? Do you think we can march all day in rain and mud and eat flour and raw beef?" "It's tough, boys," says the Adjutant, "but that's the order." Tom did not put out the fire, but built it larger, and soon the order came, "One fire to a company."

We kept our fires brightly burning all night, expecting each moment the coming order. At 4 o'clock it came. Fall in, boys, very quietly, and quick as possible. Then, "about face," and off we went in the darkness, taking precisely the route we came. What was the meaning of this backward move? Our officers agreed it was to draw them out from the river that we might cut off their retreat and "bag them," as is our custom. We marched slowly and reached Lenoir about 2 p. m., when we formed in line of battle. At dark the Eighth Michigan was thrown out as skirmishers, or outpost pickets. They advanced about four miles on the Jamestown road, and as they formed their last post were fired on by Rebel pickets. The Rebels then rallied their skirmishers and charged the Eighth, which fell back to within a mile of our line of battle. They then faced about, charged the advancing Rebels, drove them a short distance, and held them until relieved. I now began to see how matters stood. The enemy had pursued us promptly and with energy; we were in line of battle awaiting an attack. Would they attack us before daylight? Probably not, as we held a good position. Will we await an attack or retire during the night? Of the latter I was confident, judging by what I saw and heard. Fires were kept up along the whole line, and some of the boys, worn out with fasting and marching, wrapped themselves in their blankets and lay down and slept. But there was no sleep for me, and there I sat, listening to every sound, watching every move. Two trains of cars, heavily loaded with supplies, crept slowly away toward Knoxville, the very engines seeming to hold their breath fearful of exciting suspicion. The distant rattle of wheels told me the wagon train was falling into line, and the bright glare of fire at the depot spoke of government property being sacrificed because there was no time to remove it. At 2 o'clock I heard the artillery on the hill near us, and which we were supporting, move away and join the train. A few minutes later we followed the artillery, silent as an army of spectres. Our regimental Surgeon and his staff occupied a tent a few rods in the rear of the regiment. Before we had proceeded a dozen yards I missed them and asked our Captain if they had gone on ahead. He seemed puzzled, as their place was in the rear. Perhaps, he said, they were not notified—had been overlooked in the confusion—if so, they will be captured. I asked permission to go back and warn them of their danger. I found them soundly sleeping in their tent, aroused them, and in a few hurried whispers explained the situation—then struck across the fields for the Knoxville road. About two miles distant we came across a body of troops resting beside stacked arms. Near by we found our regiment, and all was well.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 120-4

Diary of Musician David Lane, November 18, 1863