Jack Kelly writer
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THE UNION WINS ITS FIRST VICTORY
(AmericanHeritage.com 2/15/07)
The Civil War battle for Fort Donelson, fought 145 years
ago today, on February 15, in 1862, was not the largest or
most memorable engagement of that long conflict. But it
was consequential for two reasons. It marked the first
significant Union success after ten frustrating months of
bungling by overly cautious and inept generals. And, more
important, it launched the career of the man who was to
ascend from years of failure to lead the Northern armies to
ultimate victory.
In January, Brig. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant had pressed a
plan on his superior, Maj. Gen. Henry W. Halleck. Grant
thought that his forces, stationed in Cairo, Illinois, could
attack south along the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers
into the Confederate heartland (the two rivers intersected
with the Ohio just above Cairo). The Confederates had
strongly fortified the Mississippi, but those two waterways
were guarded by forts that Grant thought vulnerable.
Halleck didn’t trust Grant, who had resigned his
commission in 1854 with a reputation as a drunk. He
refused the request.
Back in Cairo, Grant discussed his plan with Flag-Officer
Andrew H. Foote, who commanded several ironclad
gunboats and other war vessels on the river. Foote
persuaded Halleck to agree to a combined land and water
attack on the forts.
On February 5 a fleet of gunboats and transports carrying
Grant’s 15,000 men steamed up the Tennessee toward
Fort Henry on that river. The soldiers disembarked and
began to slog through the winter mud while the gunboats
opened up on the poorly designed fort. The Confederate
commander, seeing the situation was hopeless, sent his
garrison 12 miles overland to Fort Donelson on the
Cumberland. He held out briefly with a company of
gunners and surrendered before Grant’s force arrived.
On his own initiative, Grant decided to move on Fort
Donelson. He had to wait a few days while Foote
backtracked with his boats and brought them up the
Cumberland. The easy victory at Fort Henry was not to be
repeated. Confederate guns at Donelson raked the Union
boats, disabling most of them. On the landward side, Grant’
s men, along with 10,000 reinforcements, surrounded
approximately 17,000 defenders. The temperature, which
had been balmy, plunged to 12 degrees.
On February 14, Grant went downstream to confer with
Foote, leaving orders for his three lieutenants to hold their
divisions in place. According to the historian James M.
McPherson, the move was part of “a pattern in Grant’s
generalship: He always thought more about what he
planned to do to the enemy than what his enemy might do
to him. This offensive-mindedness eventually won the war,
but it also brought near disaster to Grant’s forces more
than once.”
Gen. John B. Floyd, the commander of Fort Donelson, saw
that his only choices were to endure a hopeless siege or to
try to break out. During a night of driving sleet and snow,
he massed his troops on his left. At dawn on the fifteenth
they crashed into the Union forces. By the time Grant
hurried to the scene, his lines had been driven back more
than a mile, and his men and their commanders were in a
state of confusion. He did not panic. “The position on the
right must be retaken,” he said flatly.
The Union soldiers rallied. Confederate Gen. Gideon J.
Pillow, like Floyd a political appointee, felt his men were too
exhausted to continue and ordered them back inside the
fort. By nightfall, the battle was over, and 4,000 men lay
dead and wounded on the icy field.
Floyd was one of the highest-ranking U.S. government
officials to have joined the rebellion. Accused of corruption
when he was secretary of war under President James
Buchanan, he was desperate to avoid capture. He crossed
the river with 1,500 Virginia troops and fled. Pillow also
decided to escape, leaving a disgusted Gen. Simon Bolivar
Buckner to share the fate of his men.
Buckner, a West Pointer, had been friendly with Grant in
earlier days and had lent him money. He expected leniency
from his old comrade, but when at dawn on February 16
he suggested a truce to discuss the terms of capitulation,
Grant replied, “No terms except an unconditional and
immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move
immediately on your works.”
Buckner was stung by this “ungenerous and unchivalrous”
ultimatum, but he had no choice but to comply.
Bells rang across the Northern states, cannon fired in
celebration. Finally the Union had achieved a major
victory. “Eight months earlier Grant had been an obscure
ex-captain of dubious reputation,” McPherson points out in
Battle Cry of Freedom; “now his name was celebrated by
every newspaper in the land.”
Grant had knocked out a third of the Confederate forces in
the West. Nashville fell two weeks later, the first Southern
capital and industrial center to be taken. “The cause of the
Union now marches on in every section of the country,” the
New York Tribune exulted.
Not quite. Halleck, jealous of Grant’s victory, threatened to
remove him from command. He wrote to superiors that
Grant “richly deserves” censure for failing to file the proper
reports. The chance to push forward aggressively in the
West was stymied. But the reputation of “Unconditional
Surrender” Grant had been made. Lincoln personally
intervened to make sure he kept his command. Two years
later, the President would install Grant as commander of all
Union forces.
After the capture of Fort Donelson a Union soldier wrote,
“My opinion is that this war will be closed in less than six
months.” Northern ebullience proved short-lived.
Confederates concentrated their remaining Western
troops at Corinth, Mississippi. Halleck ordered Grant to
assemble a substantial force to attack them. Grant was
sure “Corinth will fall much more easily than Donelson did.”
Again he failed to anticipate enemy intentions.
On the morning of April 6, thousands of screaming rebels
descended on unwary Union troops near Shiloh church.
The two-day slaughter that followed left 20,000 killed and
wounded, nearly double the casualties of all the previous
battles combined. Grant, who had hoped that a big victory
might end the war, now “gave up all idea of saving the
Union except by complete conquest.”
# # #
(AmericanHeritage.com 2/15/07)
The Civil War battle for Fort Donelson, fought 145 years
ago today, on February 15, in 1862, was not the largest or
most memorable engagement of that long conflict. But it
was consequential for two reasons. It marked the first
significant Union success after ten frustrating months of
bungling by overly cautious and inept generals. And, more
important, it launched the career of the man who was to
ascend from years of failure to lead the Northern armies to
ultimate victory.
In January, Brig. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant had pressed a
plan on his superior, Maj. Gen. Henry W. Halleck. Grant
thought that his forces, stationed in Cairo, Illinois, could
attack south along the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers
into the Confederate heartland (the two rivers intersected
with the Ohio just above Cairo). The Confederates had
strongly fortified the Mississippi, but those two waterways
were guarded by forts that Grant thought vulnerable.
Halleck didn’t trust Grant, who had resigned his
commission in 1854 with a reputation as a drunk. He
refused the request.
Back in Cairo, Grant discussed his plan with Flag-Officer
Andrew H. Foote, who commanded several ironclad
gunboats and other war vessels on the river. Foote
persuaded Halleck to agree to a combined land and water
attack on the forts.
On February 5 a fleet of gunboats and transports carrying
Grant’s 15,000 men steamed up the Tennessee toward
Fort Henry on that river. The soldiers disembarked and
began to slog through the winter mud while the gunboats
opened up on the poorly designed fort. The Confederate
commander, seeing the situation was hopeless, sent his
garrison 12 miles overland to Fort Donelson on the
Cumberland. He held out briefly with a company of
gunners and surrendered before Grant’s force arrived.
On his own initiative, Grant decided to move on Fort
Donelson. He had to wait a few days while Foote
backtracked with his boats and brought them up the
Cumberland. The easy victory at Fort Henry was not to be
repeated. Confederate guns at Donelson raked the Union
boats, disabling most of them. On the landward side, Grant’
s men, along with 10,000 reinforcements, surrounded
approximately 17,000 defenders. The temperature, which
had been balmy, plunged to 12 degrees.
On February 14, Grant went downstream to confer with
Foote, leaving orders for his three lieutenants to hold their
divisions in place. According to the historian James M.
McPherson, the move was part of “a pattern in Grant’s
generalship: He always thought more about what he
planned to do to the enemy than what his enemy might do
to him. This offensive-mindedness eventually won the war,
but it also brought near disaster to Grant’s forces more
than once.”
Gen. John B. Floyd, the commander of Fort Donelson, saw
that his only choices were to endure a hopeless siege or to
try to break out. During a night of driving sleet and snow,
he massed his troops on his left. At dawn on the fifteenth
they crashed into the Union forces. By the time Grant
hurried to the scene, his lines had been driven back more
than a mile, and his men and their commanders were in a
state of confusion. He did not panic. “The position on the
right must be retaken,” he said flatly.
The Union soldiers rallied. Confederate Gen. Gideon J.
Pillow, like Floyd a political appointee, felt his men were too
exhausted to continue and ordered them back inside the
fort. By nightfall, the battle was over, and 4,000 men lay
dead and wounded on the icy field.
Floyd was one of the highest-ranking U.S. government
officials to have joined the rebellion. Accused of corruption
when he was secretary of war under President James
Buchanan, he was desperate to avoid capture. He crossed
the river with 1,500 Virginia troops and fled. Pillow also
decided to escape, leaving a disgusted Gen. Simon Bolivar
Buckner to share the fate of his men.
Buckner, a West Pointer, had been friendly with Grant in
earlier days and had lent him money. He expected leniency
from his old comrade, but when at dawn on February 16
he suggested a truce to discuss the terms of capitulation,
Grant replied, “No terms except an unconditional and
immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move
immediately on your works.”
Buckner was stung by this “ungenerous and unchivalrous”
ultimatum, but he had no choice but to comply.
Bells rang across the Northern states, cannon fired in
celebration. Finally the Union had achieved a major
victory. “Eight months earlier Grant had been an obscure
ex-captain of dubious reputation,” McPherson points out in
Battle Cry of Freedom; “now his name was celebrated by
every newspaper in the land.”
Grant had knocked out a third of the Confederate forces in
the West. Nashville fell two weeks later, the first Southern
capital and industrial center to be taken. “The cause of the
Union now marches on in every section of the country,” the
New York Tribune exulted.
Not quite. Halleck, jealous of Grant’s victory, threatened to
remove him from command. He wrote to superiors that
Grant “richly deserves” censure for failing to file the proper
reports. The chance to push forward aggressively in the
West was stymied. But the reputation of “Unconditional
Surrender” Grant had been made. Lincoln personally
intervened to make sure he kept his command. Two years
later, the President would install Grant as commander of all
Union forces.
After the capture of Fort Donelson a Union soldier wrote,
“My opinion is that this war will be closed in less than six
months.” Northern ebullience proved short-lived.
Confederates concentrated their remaining Western
troops at Corinth, Mississippi. Halleck ordered Grant to
assemble a substantial force to attack them. Grant was
sure “Corinth will fall much more easily than Donelson did.”
Again he failed to anticipate enemy intentions.
On the morning of April 6, thousands of screaming rebels
descended on unwary Union troops near Shiloh church.
The two-day slaughter that followed left 20,000 killed and
wounded, nearly double the casualties of all the previous
battles combined. Grant, who had hoped that a big victory
might end the war, now “gave up all idea of saving the
Union except by complete conquest.”
# # #