This morning we are soon in line and moving. The regiment marches briskly. The men seem anxious to get back to Corinth, which is now only twelve miles distant. We pass the battle-ground, where the old Second Division so gallantly stemmed the storm on the third of October. The fields present one vast graveyard. We pass through Corinth at two P. M., and arrive in camp at three o'clock, all tired and foot-sore. We had a hard tramp down in Mississippi; but it is over now, and all seem glad to know that they went down there with the old flag and saw it swung in threatening grandeur, along the rear of the the [sic] shattered rebel army. After washing ourselves and getting on clean shirts (discarding those that can now "go it alone”) and after eating our supper prepared by the convalescents, we feel happy, and looking around us we see many smiles playing upon the soldiers' faces, as they recount to each other the incidents of the last ten days—incidents that will be sung in song and rehearsed in story because of their glory and their terror. Since returning to Corinth we have been perusing the journal of a rebel officer who was taken prisoner in the charge upon Fort Robinett, from which we take the following extract:
“Saturday, October 4th.-An eventful day. At four o'clock A. M., our brigade was ordered to the lett, about a quarter of a mile, and halted, where we deployed forward a skirmish line which kept up a constant fire. A battery in front of the right of our regiment opened briskly and the enemy replied in the same manner. The cannonading was heavy for an hour and a half. Our regiment laid down and stood it nobly. The shell flew thick and fast, cutting off large limbs and filling the air with fragments. Many burst within twenty feet of me. It was extremely unpleasant-and I prayed for forgiveness of my sins, and made up my mind to go through the tempest. Colonel Sawyer called for volunteers to assist the Second Texas skirmishers. I volunteered and took my company. Captain Perkins and Lieutenant Munson being taken sick directly after the severe bombardment, I led the company all the time. I went skirmishing at seven-and-a-half and returned at nine-and-a-half. Two of Captain Foster's men were killed, but none of ours. The enemy fired very fast. We got behind trees and logs, and the way bullets did fly was unpleasant to see. I think twenty must have passed within a few feet of me humming prettily. Shells tore off large limbs, and splinters struck my tree several times. We could only move from tree to tree by bending low to the ground while moving. Oh! how anxiously I watched for the bursting of the shells when the heavy roar proclaimed their coming. At nine-and-a-half o'clock I had my skirmishers relieved by Captain Rouser's company. Sent my men to their places; and went behind a log with Major Furger. At ten o'clock the fight opened in earnest; this was on the right. In a few moments the left went into action in splendid style. At fifteen minutes past ten Colonel Rogers came by us only saying, “Alabama forces!” Our regiment with the brigade rose unmindful of shell or shot and moved forward, marching about two hundred and fifty yards, and rising the crest of a hill, the whole of Corinth with its enormous fortifications burst upon our view. The United States flag was floating over the forts and in the town. We were now met by a perfect storm of grape, canister, cannon and minie balls. Oh! God, I never saw the like. The men fell like grass. Giving one tremendous cheer we dashed to the bottom of the hill on which the fortifications are situated. Here we found every foot of ground covered with large trees and brush. Looking to the right or left I saw several brigades charging at the same time—what a sight! I saw men running at full speed, stop suddenly and fall on their faces, with their brains scattered all around; others with legs or arms cut off. I gave myself to God, and got ahead of my company. The ground was literally strewed with mangled corpses. One ball passed through my pants and cut twigs close by me. It seemed that by holding out my hand I could have caught a dozen bullets. We pushed forward, marching as it were into the mouths of the cannon. I rushed to the ditch of the fort-I jumped into it, and half way up the sloping wall; the enemy were only two or three feet from me on the other side, but could not shoot us for fear of being shot themselves. Our men were in the same predicament. Only five or six were on the wall, and thirty or forty in and around the ditch. Catesby, my companion, is on the wall beside me. A man within two feet of me put his head cautiously up to shoot into the fort, but suddenly dropped his musket, and his brains were dashed in a stream over my fine coat, which I had in my arms. Several were killed and rolled down the embankment. This was done by a regiment of Yankees. Some of our men cried “put down the flag,” when it was lowered or shot into the ditch. Oh! we were butchered like dogs-for we were not supported. Some one placed a white handkerchief on Sergeant Buck's musket, and he took it to a port hole, but the Yankees snatched it off and took him prisoner. The men were falling ten at a time. The ditch being full, and finding that we had no chance, we, the survivors, tried to save ourselves as best we could. I was so far up I could not get off quickly; I do not recollect seeing Catesby after this, but think he got off before. I trust in God he has. I and Captain Foster started together, and the air was literally filled with hissing balls. I got about twenty steps as quick as I could, about a dozen being killed in that distance. I fell down and crawled behind a large stump. Just then I saw poor Foster throw up his hands and saying “Oh! my God!" jumped about two feet off the ground and fell on his face. The top of his head seemed to cave in, and the blood spirted straight up several feet. I could see men falling as they attempted to run; some with their heads blown to pieces and others with the blood streaming from their backs. Oh! it was horrible. One poor fellow being almost on me, told me his name, and asked me to take his pocketbook, and if I escaped to give it to his mother and tell her that he died like a brave man. I asked him if he was christian; he said he was. I asked him to pray, which he did with the cannons thundering a deadly accompaniment. Poor fellow, I forgot his request in the excitement. His legs were literally cut to pieces. As our men retreated the enemy poured into us a terrific fire. I was hardly thirty feet from the mouths of the cannons. Minie balls filled the stump I was behind, and the shells burst within three or four feet from me; one was so near it struck me and burnt my face with powder. The grape-shot knocked large pieces from my stump; it was gradually wearing away. I endured the horrors of deathfor one-half hour. Our troops formed in line and advanced a second time to the charge with cheers, but began firing when about half way, and I had to endure it all. I feigned death. I was between our own and the enemy's fire. In the first charge our men did not fire a gun, but charged across the ditch and up to the very mouths of the cannons. But our boys were shot down like hogs; they could not stand the storms that came from the Yankees' thundering guns. I had no chance what-ever. All around me were surrendering. I could do no better than follow suit; but thank God I am unhurt; nothing but a merciful providence saved me.”
This is a rebel soldier's discourse about the great battle of Corinth and especially the charging of Fort Robinett. Let the loyal people look at the above pen picture, and there see how terrible was the war for the Union, and with what mad desperation the rebels struggled for dominion.
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