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Page 35
Just before the retreat, occurred one of the most remarkable
incidents of the battle; few more wonderful are on record. General
Hindman, than whom no more fearless, dashing, or brave man is found
in the Rebel service, was leading his men in a fearful struggle for
the possession of a favorable position, when a shell from the
Federal batteries, striking his horse in the breast and passing into
his body, exploded. The horse was blown to fragments, and the rider,
with his saddle, lifted some ten feet in the air. His staff did not
doubt that their general was killed, and some one cried out,
"General Hindman is blown to pieces." Scarcely was the cry uttered,
when Hindman sprang to his feet and shouted, "Shut up there, I am
worth two dead men yet. Get me another horse." To the amazement of
every one, he was but little bruised. His heavy and strong cavalry
saddle, and probably the bursting of the shell downward, saved him.
In a minute he was on a new horse and rallying his men for another
dash. A man of less flexible and steel-like frame would probably
have been so jarred and stunned by the shock as to be unable to
rise; he, though covered with blood and dust, kept his saddle during
the remainder of the day, and performed prodigies of valor. But no
heroism of officers or men could avail to stay the advance of the
Federal troops.
At three o'clock P.M. the Confederates decided on a retreat to
Corinth; and General Breckenridge, strengthened by three regiments
of cavalry,--Forrest's, Adams', and the Texas Rangers, raising his
effective force to 12,000 men,--received orders to protect the rear.
By four P.M. the Confederates were in full retreat. The main body of
the army passed silently and swiftly along the road toward Corinth,
our division bringing up the rear, determined to make a desperate
stand if pursued. At this time the Union forces might have closed in
upon our retreating columns and cut off Breckenridge's division,
and perhaps captured it. A Federal battery threw some shells, as a
feeler, across the road on which we were retreating, between our
division and the main body, but no reply was made to them, as this
would have betrayed our position. We passed on with little
opposition or loss, and by five o'clock had reached a point one and
a half miles nearer Corinth than the point of attack Sabbath
morning.
Up to this time the pursuit seemed feeble, and the Confederates were
surprised that the victorious Federals made no more of their
advantage. Nor is it yet understood why the pursuit was not pressed.
A rapid and persistent pursuit would have created a complete rout of
the now broken, weary, and dispirited Rebels. Two hours more of
such fighting as Buell's fresh men could have made, would have
demoralized and destroyed Beauregard's army. For some reason this
was not done, and night closed the battle.
About five o'clock I requested permission to ride on toward Corinth,
as I was faint and weary, and, from the pain in my side and knee,
would not be able to keep the saddle much longer. This was granted,
and I made a _d�tour_ from the road on which the army was
retreating, that I might travel faster and get ahead of the main
body. In this ride of twelve miles alongside of the routed army, I
saw more of human agony and woe than I trust I will ever again be
called on to witness. The retreating host wound along a narrow and
almost impassable road, extending some seven or eight miles in
length. Here was a long line of wagons loaded with wounded, piled in
like bags of grain, groaning and cursing, while the mules plunged on
in mud and water belly-deep, the water sometimes coming into the
wagons. Next came a straggling regiment of infantry pressing on past
the train of wagons, then a stretcher borne upon the shoulders of
four men, carrying a wounded officer, then soldiers staggering
along, with an arm broken and hanging down, or other fearful wounds
which were enough to destroy life. And to add to the horrors of the
scene, the elements of heaven marshaled their forces,--a fitting
accompaniment of the tempest of human desolation and passion which
was raging. A cold, drizzling rain commenced about nightfall, and
soon came harder and faster, then turned to pitiless blinding hail.
This storm raged with unrelenting violence for three hours. I passed
long wagon trains filled with wounded and dying soldiers, without
even a blanket to shield them from the driving sleet and hail, which
fell in stones as large as partridge eggs, until it lay on the
ground two inches deep.
Some three hundred men died during that awful retreat, and their
bodies were thrown out to make room for others who, although
wounded, had struggled on through the storm, hoping to find shelter,
rest, and medical care.
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