Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, October 3, 1862

This morning ere it is light, the drums are heard, which tell us that something is demanded of the Seventh—a march and a fight forsooth. Orders for a march we have already received, but orders for a battle may be forthcoming, for these come unexpected sometimes. Rumor, which is ever busy, is circulating many things; one is that Price and Van Dorn, being dissatisfied with Iuka, are now threatening Corinth. But every one seems to be ignorant of anything hostile any where in Northern Mississippi. The Seventh is soon ordered into line, and with everything buckled and in trim, we take up the line of march towards Corinth. After going a short distance, we are ordered to move in double-quick time. This leads us to think that there is something coming this way; that will give us battle music, but who will play it, we know not. We are soon in Corinth; everything is in commotion; troops are moving, and aids and orderlies dashing everywhere. Soon we are informed that Colonel Olive, with the Fifteenth Michigan, has been driven in from Chewalla, an out-post on the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, nine miles south of Corinth. An orderly is now seen dashing up the Chewalla road. He comes from Colonel Olive, and informs the General that the Fifteenth Michigan is pressed, and if not reinforced, will be unable to maintain its position now on the hill, on the line of the old rebel works, crossing the Chewalla road, two and a half miles from Corinth. Colonel Babcock is ordered forward on double-quick time with the Seventh, to reinforce him. Arriving at the scene of action, we find McArthur in command on the hill. Reporting to him, Colonel Babcock is ordered to take his position in the rebel works, forty rods to the right of the Fifteenth Michigan; the artillery being immediately to our left. Colonel Babcock now sends forward Company H, deployed on a skirmish line along a ravine beyond the abattis. Soon we hear sharp firing down there; with a sweeping power the rebels are hurled against them, compelling them to fall back, and as they come over the works, they carry with them Lieutenant Ring, wounded and bleeding, which is a serious loss to the company. It is sad to think that after he had obtained permission from the General in the morning to return to his company, that he should thus fall in the commencement of the battle; that the company should thus be deprived of its brave leader, But such are the fortunes of war; the brave spirited heroes are generally the first to go down. Before Lieutenant Ring is carried from the field, he says to his men, “I may never be with you any more," and exhorts them to stand firm for the old flag and do it and their homes honor, as they had always done on every battle-field. How sad it makes us feel to see our brave ones fall; to see our leading spirits leave us when we can illy spare them. The brave Ring is now borne back in his glory.

We will now turn to the situation. By this time it is discovered that Price and Van Dorn are in our immediate front with their entire commands, numbering about twenty-five thousand men, which tells us plainly that there will be a work of blood to-day in these woods. We now look across the abattis and behold the angry legions of the south moving towards our front in terrible array. The battery on our left, the Fifteenth Michigan, and the Fifty-seventh on the left of the Fifteenth, now open a terrific fire. At this juncture we discover a large body of rebels emerging from the timber in solid column, about forty rods to our right, moving directly across the unprotected works. The Seventh turns its fire towards them and checks them for a few minutes. This column's fire soon turns the Seventh's right flank. The enemy in our front having been repulsed by the Seventh, soon rally and are on to the breach again, receiving our fire. with a remarkable indifference. Up to this time the battery and the force on our left have been making the woods ring with their terrible thunder, but they are silent now; their cannons are still; their musketry is hushed. What means it all? Owing to the dense undergrowth in the woods we are hid from them. Colonel Babcock has not received any word from McArthur since taking his position here. The battle still rages in our immediate front. Colonel Babcock casts his eye to the rear; he looks down a ravine and beholds the Chewalla road swarming with rebels. The fact soon flashes upon his mind that McArthur, with his force, has been driven from the hill, leaving the Seventh isolated and alone. The rebels are now pressing us in the front, a column moving past us to our right, another rebel force on the Chewalla road to our left and rear, pressing McArthur hard. This is our position; rebels in our front, rebels on our right and rear, rebels on our left and rear; soon their right and left columns will meet; soon we will be surrounded if we remain here. Colonel Babcock's observing eye sees the situation of the regiment in an instant. The command is given, ‘By the right of companies to the rear.” Will we get back? Will we save ourselves by moving direct to the rear? We may; this is our only hope. The regiment moves steadily; no confusion, no panic; how like clock-work they move. We succeed in getting back ere the rebel columns meet. We find Colonel Olive's command and the regiments composing the Third Brigade, in line of battle one-half mile from the hill, where they had been driven. The Third Brigade is now formed on the Chewalla road; the Seventh on the right, with the left resting on the road, and in their order the Fiftieth and Fifty-seventh on the left of the road; and as soon as the Seventh is formed, Colonel Babcock reports to General McArthur, who had assumed command of that part of the line. By his direction we move by the left flank east of the Chewalla road, forming a new line of battle facing north. Companies I and C, under the command of the gallant Captain Johnson are now deployed forward on a skirmish line covering the front of the Third Brigade. The positions of the regiments in the Third Brigade are as follows: The Fifty-seventh on the right, and in their order the Seventh and the Fftieth. Thus is the position of the Second Division, commanded by General Davies: The First Brigade, commanded by General Hackleman, in the center; the Second Brigade, commanded by General Oglesby, on the right; and the Third Brigade, commanded Colonel Baldwin, on the left.

There is a lull now; the rebels seem hesitating. The heat is intense; no water; the men are famishing; some of the Seventh fall in their tracks, fainting and exhausted under the scorching sun.

While the men are thus suffering, we advance; the Fifty-seventh takes the lead, the Seventh follows, then the Fiftieth. Through the woods they swept with the power of a terrible whirlwind. For one-half mile they surge with a relentless force, making a fearful inroad among the rebels, but at this juncture fresh rebel troops are hurled against our flanks, compelling us to give way. That was a try. ing hour; the storm raged furiously; the woods were wrapped in smoke and flame. We fall back to our former position, and crossing the railroad, move back a short distance, where we find the Sixth Division drawn up in line of battle. General McArthur now directs Colonel Babcock to take his regiment to the rear of the Division and let it rest.

The Sixth Division advances and engages the enemy and for fifteen minutes the storm rages wildly. Generals Hackleman and Oglesby charge from the white house, near Corinth. General Hackleman falls a martyr—goes down in the sweeping tempest, and at the same time General Oglesby is badly wounded; thus we lose from the Union army two brave and noble men.

Night now lets fall her dark mantle, and the great storm is hushed. General Davies’ Division made a fearful swing to-day. During the long weary hours while his men were famishing and dying, he fought the whole rebel army and held it in cheek. Where was Rosecrans, with Hamilton and Stanly, when the Second Division was struggling as warriors have but few times struggled on this continent? They may have been where duty called. We trust they were. It may have been necessary for the Second Division to alone stem the angry current, and to-night we feel glad that we never let the old flag go down, but kept her up to gladden the hearts of many brave men as their life blood ebbed away on this field of fearful carnage.

We are ordered into camp one-half mile southeast of Corinth, near the college, but we do not remain here long until Colonel Babcock receives orders to report with the regiment to Corinth. Though the men are weary, they are soon in line. On arriving near the town, we are ordered to halt, and as soon as done the battle worn men drop down upon the ground to rest themselves; but their eyes are scarcely closed, when again the command "all in" is given, and we move to another position, and thus during the long weary night we are kept moving from one place to another; and, in consequence, there is no sleep for the tired and almost exhausted Seventh.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 91-7

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, October 4, 1862

At two o'clock this morning the Second Division is huddled promiscuously around the headquarters of General Rosecrans, on the north side of Corinth. About three o'clock, a sheet of fire is seen to burst from a rebel battery planted during the night in the woods near the Purdy road; all morning it continues to send forth its glaring light; the air is full of bursting shell; the heavens seem all ablaze; the stars for a moment seem eclipsed. The light from the morning king is now flashing against the bayonets of the two hostile armies. Smoke and, wrathful messengers still continue to leap from the woods where the rebel monster frowns, and as its storm comes sweeping on its track, death follows in its wake, for some brave men are seen to fall, breathe quickly, and die. Our big guns at batteries Williams and Robinet now open upon this rebel battery with a roar that is hideous; sending echoes across the fields and through the surrounding woods that sound unearthly. This battery is soon disabled, and rebel heels are seen to fly heavenward, thus putting a stop to its deadly sweeps.

About eight o'clock the regiment is moved forward and placed in a position behind some temporary works constructed during the night. The position of the Second Division resembles an ox yoke, minus the bows; the First Brigade and Powell's battery forming the right curve, with the bulge facing the enemy north and northwest; the Second Brigade forming the center, facing northwest, and the Third Brigade forming the left curve, facing north and west. The position of the Third Brigade, commanded by Colonel Dubois, U. S. A., is as follows: The Seventh Illinois on the right with its right resting on the Purdy road, and in their order the Fiftieth and Fifty-seventh Illinois. Soon after taking our position in the great yoke of bayonets, Colonel Babcock is ordered to move forward, deploy his regiment and support Berge's sharp-shooters. We soon discovered the enemy crossing the railroad in large force. Upon making the discovery we are ordered to return to our position in the "yoke.” The enemy is now evidently making preparations to take Corinth, if possible, at the point of the bayonet.

While there is a lull in consequence of these preparations, we will review the situation. Here, marshaled upon Corinth's fields, can be seen thousands of determined warriors supporting their bristling steel, waiting to engage in the work of blood. There is silence along the Seventh's line, and we all feel that it will prove to be a line of stout hearts. The gallant Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett are at their posts. The commanders of companies, Captains Lawyer, Hunter, Johnson, Knowlton, McGuire, Perrin, Clark, and Lieutenants Estabrook, Pegram, Smith, Sullivan, Sweeny, Raymond, Ahern, Atchison and Gillson are resting upon their drawn swords. They will soon wield them and we know that they will be wielded so as to reflect glory and honor upon those who swing them. The story of the terrible days of the past assure us as much. The sun is now far up in the sky, but it is evident that ere it sinks to rest many a noble soldier will have laid himself down for a quiet, eternal sleep. We look across the fields; the ghastly stars and bars are seen peering from the woods; the drunken Arkansas legions under the command of General Caball are surging towards the Third Brigade's front, four regiments deep in columns of attack. The redoubt on the right is now taken; the right is giving way in confusion; there is a gap in the line to our right on the Purdy road; the attack on the left being slight, the Fifty-seventh is removed therefrom and thrown into this breach. At this period a battery in our rear on an elevation overlooking Corinth opens upon General Caball's charging column. The shot from this battery falling short, Sergeant Wheeler, of Company H of the Seventh, is thereby killed. The battle now rages furiously; many noble men are falling victims; streams of blood are flowing; the death archer is at work. The charging column is overwhelming; the Seventh is now driven from the temporary works; the yoke is broken; the regiment is retreating slowly; they are contesting manfully every inch of the ground. Falling back a short distance, Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, with the ready assistance of the officers of the line, succeed in rallying the regiment, forming a line at a small house on the out-skirts of Corinth, where the Seventh stands like a pillar of fire. Volley after volley they are now sending into the Arkansas hosts. They seem determined though they die to keep the old flag in the wind. On, the storm king of battle rides. Reckless shot and shell are making deep furrows in the earth. The air is full of whistling minies; things look fearful. We stand amid the dead and dying. Smoke from iron mouths rolls everywhere; everything seems to be wrapped in flames. How can our thinned and almost famished Seventh stem this mad storm! For a few moments, the regiment's determined front staggers the enemy and throws them into confusion, but they have re-formed, and are now coming across the open field in terrible array. The regiment that has thus far stood up so manfully is now made to waver-the flag is seen to tremble. At this trying moment an aid comes dashing down the line (we believe it was Capt. Lovel) crying out, "Oh, noble Seventh! noble Seventh! stand the storm, it won't last long!” The battery on the hill in the rear still continues its firing. The Seventh being unable to stand against the overwhelming and sweeping rebel force, and being exposed to the fierce storms of this (our own) battery on the hill, again falls back and forms out of the line of its fire. In this retreat the gallant and brave Lieutenant Estabrook of Company E was killed. The battle all along the entire line is now raging desperately. The earth is trembling around Fort Robinet, wrathful thunder is rolling from her brazen guns. The battle smoke seems to roll against the sky. General Rogers and his Texan legions have thrown themselves into the ordeal there, but like grass before the mower's scythe his mad rangers are falling victims to a wicked ambition. We now turn our eyes, casting them along the Second Division's crippled line. They are fighting desperately against fearful odds, hotly contesting every inch of ground on the streets of Corinth. The regiments are broken up in small squads, commanded by Lieutenants and Sergeants. Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, with a part of the regiment are now standing heroically with their trembling flag; the remaining part of the Regiment being disconnected from the colors, is engaged in heated contest on other parts of the field. Confusion reigns; darkness seems to be throwing her sable wings around the struggling Second Division. The main drift of the battle has been against them. General Davies, with the gallant Captains Lovel and Hanna, Colonel Dubois, Colonel Babcock, Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, and the brave officers of the line, have been laboring hard to check the adverse tide.

The sun is now passing down towards the western horizon. Will the battle be lost? will this brave army be crushed? will the flag be lowered? will the loyal people be compelled to bow their heads and drop tears over another ill-fated field ? No! Such a story shall not go to the hearts of the loyal people. We look away; we behold the right wing swinging around, hurling volley after volley into the flanks of the enemy. There is a reaction now; the Second Division rallies again, and led by General Davies, fights with renewed vigor. The rebel lines are seen to waver; our big guns are now mowing them down by hundreds. Seeing this wavering of the rebels, the men are encouraged. Colonel Babcock, with the Seventh, moves firmly and with power. The Fiftieth are making a glorious charge; a smile of triumph seems to be playing on every face. The enemy are being driven; foot by foot they are falling back from Corinth's field. The Union's proud banner is again advancing; loud shouts from our lines are making a din in the air. The dying heroes, as they pass away, leave ringing in our ears, “Follow the flag!” “Keep it up!” “Dont let it fall!”. Oh! what hearts! what glory! what manhood! A rebel retreat is ordered. The shouts of victory make the welkin ring. The old Seventh's flag in its shreds and ribbons seems to shed a halo of glory around its exultant and happy defenders.

Sergeant Newell and Corporal Bordwell, color bearers, deserve honorable mention for their gallantry in carrying our flag through this terrible battle. No braver soldiers ever moved on a battle-field. No one ever looked to the rear to see the Seventh's colors; but on the front line in the fiercest of the battle, their noble bearers were ever seen standing with them. They unfurled them in the battle wind and never let them go down. They seemed to be the pride of their hearts, and their faces looked sad when the fortunes of battle compelled them to carry them back. In the wide universe there is nothing so beautiful to behold as a brave man fighting for his country's flag; nothing more beautiful than to see fearless spirits like Sergeant Newell and Corporal Bordwell, bearing the proud banner of freedom through smoke and flame.

Night has now come, and the worn and almost exhausted Seventh lie down upon the blood-stained field to obtain some rest. Though we are all weary and tired, we feel glad in our hearts that the old flag has been honored to-day, and while we thus feel happy we feel sad when we look around us and see. that comrades and officers who were with us yesterday morning and this morning are with us no more. The following is the Seventh's casualties in the two days’ battle:

STAFF.—First Lieutenant William Brown, Quartermaster, mortally wounded; T. N. Francis, Adjutant, wounded in font; Fred W. Cross, Fife Major, wounded through mouth, severely.

COMPANY B. —John Fifer, killed; Wentworth D. Wolf, taken prisoner; John Devine, corporal, wounded in the face; W. Graham, corporal, wounded in left shoulder; L. D. Porter, private, wounded in left hand, finger off; Wm. Auld, wounded in left hand, severely; Wm. Nelson, wounded in left hand slightly.

COMPANY C. —E. R. Roberts, First Lieutenant, wounded in hand, finger off; W. H. Ferguson, Second Lieutenant, wounded in right arm, severely; Clark B. Alford, private, killed; G. W. Baldwin, private, wounded in right arm; Edgar. Campbell, private, wounded in right hand; J. Hamilton, private, wounded in hand, slightly; J Kopf, private, wounded in arm, slightly; William Shell, taken prisoner.

COMPANY D. —Sergeant F. Bradshaw, taken prisoner; Corporal T. Raymond, taken prisoner; T. M. Reeves, private, taken prisoner; W. H. Harris, private, taken prisoner; Michael Greely, private, taken prisoner; Michael Walsh, private, wounded slightly.

COMPANY E. —Henry N. Estabrook, Second Lieutenant, killed; John Tefft, private, killed; Jasper Eveland, private, wounded, leg amputated; William Robinson, private, wounded in hip; Albion P. Gossard, private, wounded in arm;. Thomas H. Watt, private, wounded in shoulder, severely; John B. Forbes, private, wounded in hip, severely; Joseph Lancaster, private, wounded in head, severely; Edwin R. Jones, private, wounded in head, severely; Martin V. Miller, sergeant, taken prisoner; John J. Frost, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY F. —James Adams, private, killed; Bernard Keely, private, mortally wounded; R. C. Staples, private, wounded; Hans Hanson, private, wounded; Joshua S. March, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY G.—William Hawks, private, wounded, finger off; D. C. Munson, corporal, wounded in thigh, severely.

COMPANY H. —Jacob L. Ring, First Lieutenant, wounded in breast, severely; Laban Wheeler, sergeant, killed; W.T. Taylor, private, wounded in hip, severely; Edmond H. Cook, private, wounded in foot, slightly; John D. Turner, corporal, taken prisoner; James M. Halbert, private, taken prisoner; John Fowler, private, taken prisoner; William T. Omay, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY I. —John H. Shankland, first sergeant, wounded in chin, slightly; David Walker, private; wounded in ankle; Robert Walker, private, wounded in right shoulder; George Heisey, private, wounded in arm severely; Patrick Crowley, private, wounded in right foot, severely; John Mow, private, wounded in left leg, severely; Michael O'Connor, private, wounded in left hand; John W. Campbell, sergeant, taken prisoner; Peter Miller, private, taken prisoner; Wm. E. Norton, private, taken prisoner; Daniel J. Baker, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY K. —Felix Lane, private, wounded slightly in the face; Richard Taylor, private, wounded slightly in the back; George Palmer, private, taken prisoner; David Lewis, private, taken prisoner; Mike Connerty, private, taken prisoner. Total number killed, 6; total number wounded, 43; total number taken prisoners, 21 ; sum total of losses, 70.

As we look over this roll of honor, we think of those noble hearts that have ceased their pulsations forever, and of those now bleeding, mangled and torn, lying in the Corinth hospitals. In the years to come, when the tocsin of war shall have been hushed and the country is at peace, may America's great loyal people drop tears to the memory of those fallen heroes, and throw a fostering arm around her maimed and crippled warriors whose glorious nobility will be traced back to the most sanguinary battlefields of the nineteenth century. As we cast our eyes around us, we are wont to say, oh! had we the picture emblazoned upon canvass, with all its horrifying details and gloomy shadows; could the loyal people but discern the ardor, the industry, the exertion, the valor, the iron arm of strength that was raised in these two days on Corinth’s bloody field; could they but feel the glow of patriotism that warmed the hearts and brightened the eyes of those noble ones, who went down to-day on this crimson field; could they but feel the inspiration of the hour when life was nothing and the country all, they would then know the importance of the hour and believe in the providence of God, who will guide the ship of state into a prosperous haven. The Seventh is now sleeping; they are weary; their loss has been heavy. Terrible were the shafts of war hurled against them. When the battle's smoke vanished away, we all bowed our heads in silence, when we remembered that the gallant officer and christian soldier, Lieutenant Henry N. Estabrook, of Company E, was with us no more, but was sleeping the eternal sleep on Corinth's field of glory.

History tells of many brave spirits; its pages are teeming with plaudits for its daring heroes. But the historian has never moved his pen to eulogize a truer manhood and a purer spirit than was embodied in the life and character of Lieutenant Estabrook. Possessing an excellence of character, a gentlemanly demeanor, and high-toned manhood, he won for himself the esteem of his men and fellow officers. Though he was engaged in working war's mad machine, it never cast a shadow upon his Christian character. His mind was ever dwelling upon things that were high, grand and noble; spurning that which was groveling and ignoble as beneath the dignity of a Christain [sic] gentleman. We saw him when he fell; when the Union army's center was giving way, and while waving his sword, and cheering his gallant men, he went down beneath the old Union's swaying flag, and as his life-blood ebbed away upon the altar of the world's last hope, a smile was seen to play upon his face; it was a smile of triumph, a smile of sunshine and of glory, and the indistinct language of his soul was, "Lo, peace is here.” And his spirit fied from this field of blood and death, home to God. A truer man, a better commanding officer, a braver soldier than Lieutenant Estabrook has never been stricken down on America's great battle-fields. No purer spirit ever fluttered for entrance at the windows of heaven. Though he is dead, his name will ever live in the memory of the Seventh, and especially in the memory of his noble company, who stood with him until he fell a martyr to freedom. The faithful historian will write his name among the crowned ones of immortality. And from the warrior's grand calendar no ribbon, nor belt, nor jeweled cross will ever bear a prouder name than that of Lieutenant Henry N. Estabrook.

Lieutenant Brown, regimental quartermaster, deserves honorable mention. He was mortally wounded on the first day, while endeavoring to get water to his famishing and suffering regiment. Stemming danger and death, with a noble determination to work his way to where the smoke of battle rolled around the Seventh, he fell amid the raging tempest, fell in the performance of his duty to his country and his men. Brave soldiers who went down in this great battle, you have won for yourselves a Peace to your ashes. May the patriot pilgrims who in the years to come pass this way, drop tears of grateful remembrance over your last resting place, and may they feel that you have gathered laurels, eternal and bright as a pyramid of stars. Every one, officers and men, played well their part in this great battle. Ever found where duty called, each one is worthy of honorable mention—hence we will leave Corinth without particularizing any one of the gallant survivors.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 97-109

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, October 5, 1862

This morning, Rosecrans with his victorious army is soon in motion, thundering in the rear of the retreating and shattered foe. Early in the morning we pass over the battle-field of Friday. The dead lie everywhere. They have all turned black; the scene is revolting and sickening. The heart sinks within as the eye falls upon the dreadful, gloomy picture. Oh, terrible war! in thy wrath what art thou doing in this land? What sable pictures art thou making for this nation's historic page? The columns move slowly; the roads are blockaded by wagons and artillery—there is impatience in the army; it is eager to dash on in its power and make a charge against the rear of the retreating army. The heat is intense; the water is scarce; the troops suffer. We succeed in getting about eight miles, and go into camp near Chewalla, Tennessee. Rosecrans' victorious army is weary to-night-but it complains not. Its steps are firm, and there is power felt where they fall. Many prisoners have been taken to-day and sent to the rear. This evening Ben Hesket, of the quartermaster's department, ever on the alert, furnishes the regiment with a fine steer, and it is not long until it is served up in the very latest style, and around the blazing camp fires the Seventh sit and satisfy the inner man. By and by the camp fires go out, and the sturdy Seventh sinks to rest upon the bosom of mother earth. No sound breaks the stillness except the measured tramp of the sentry as he paces to and fro upon his solitary beat. We will now pass where these warriors lie sleeping. The beams of the moon as it rides among the stars are resting upon their upturned faces: Something tells us that we see here the impress of nobility. They may be dreaming now; the roaring tempest, the rush of men, the clang of steel, the groans of the vanquished, and the shouts of the triumphant, may be heard by them while the stars over them their nightly vigils keep.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 109-10