ng,
or Shiloh, and I shall not only attempt to give a general account of
the battle, but also describe it from the point of view of a man in the
ranks.
In respect to the general features of this desperate struggle between
our own countrymen, my statements are derived from many reports and
accounts carefully collated, and from many conversations with soldiers
engaged, both from the Union and Confederate armies.
Who of us, having reached middle life, does not recall the exultation
and enthusiasm aroused by the news of the capture of Fort Donelson?
What a thrill of pride and patriotism was felt through all the loyal
North! The soldiers of the great Northwest had attacked a citadel of
the rebellion, and captured it, with sixteen thousand of its defenders.
At this time the Third Iowa Infantry was strung along the North
Missouri Railroad, guarding bridges and doing other police work.
Company B, which had the honor of having on its muster roll private
Olney, was stationed at that time in the little town of Sturgeon,
Missouri, where our principal occupation was to keep from freezing. We
had then spent eight months campaigning in that border State--that is,
if you call guarding railways and bridges, and attempting to overawe
the disaffected, enlivened now and then by a brisk skirmish,
campaigning. The Second Iowa had led the charge which captured the
hostile breastworks at Donelson, and General Grant had telegraphed to
General Halleck at St. Louis, who had repeated the message to the
Governor of our State, that the Second Iowa was the bravest of the
brave. The First Iowa had distinguished itself at Wilson's Creek, near
Springfield, under General Lyon, while _we_--well, we hadn't done much
of anything but to get a licking at Blue Mills. Therefore, when a
message to move came, and we found ourselves on the way to join General
Grant's army, we felt quite hilarious.
At St. Louis we were put on board the steamer "Iatan." Down the
Mississippi, up the Ohio, up the Tennessee. As we proceeded up the
Tennessee we were continually overtaking or being joined by other
steamboats loaded with troops, until presently the river was alive with
transports, carrying the army of the West right into the heart of the
Confederacy. It was a beautiful and stirring sight; mild weather had
set in (it was now the second week of March), the flotilla of
steamboats, black with soldiers, bands playing, flags flying, all
combined to arouse and interest.
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