In search of 'Old Brains': A Shiloh-to-Corinth (Miss.) round trip

Your dazed blogger at Shiloh following an awful bug attack.

Like this blog on Facebook | Follow me on Twitter
At the spring of 1862 Siege of Corinth (Miss.), his only field command of the war, Henry Halleck wasn't known for bold initiatives or lightning strikes. Plodding and overcautious, the 47-year-old Union commander took more than a month to conquer the strategic northern Mississippi town that eventually was abandoned by a vastly outnumbered enemy.

Mr. Bold, Henry Halleck, also known
as "Old Brains. (Library of Congress)

"Old Brains" had more than 100,000 troops! No wonder Abe Lincoln finally put this guy behind a desk for good.

"We have let them slip through our fingers," a Union soldier wrote about the Confederates' escape.

Bleh. Let's not be like "Old Brains."

On our Civil War journeys, let's emulate J.E.B. Stuart: Be bold, deliver a few great results, occasionally ride aimlessly through the countryside, and when appropriate, party like it's September 1862. (But when riding a bicycle, do not stick a plume feather in your helmet.)

Summoning my inner Stuart, I drove from Shiloh, Tenn., to Corinth, Miss., and back on Monday, following the serpentine road “Old Brains” himself may have taken. (And then I returned to Nashville. It's not called "Labor Day" for nothing.) It was stunning I made the roughly 40-mile Shiloh-to-Corinth round trip at all because a massive insect violently struck my helmet earlier, nearly knocking me from my road bike at Shiloh.

But I was uber-determined to visit the “Crossroads of the Confederacy," where Halleck set up shop after Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard abandoned it for good on May 30, 1862. Join me for the ride.

En route to Corinth, near the Shiloh battlefield, I found this. Damn, I'm a sucker for every historical marker -- especially ones nearly obscured by weeds ...

... And unsurprisingly, I also discovered a Civil War Trails marker near the site of Albert Sidney Johnston's last bivouac. (They. Are. Everywhere.) The next day, April 6, 1862, ASJ was mortally wounded at Shiloh. Shot behind the right knee, the 59-year-old commander bled to death in a ravine -- even though he had a tourniquet in his pocket. (Quick plug: Read my Civil War Times column about Shiloh battlefield markers -- including the one at Johnston's death site.) ...

Keeping an eye out for angry dogs, I slowly walked down the lane to the bivouac site. Hey, did Johnston's staff forget something? ...

Arrival!

Albert Sidney Johnston

Here's the story, according to info in the wayside exhibit: "This site was not marked by the Shiloh Battlefield Commission when Shiloh National Military Park was being developed. Only a small sign was placed on Highway 22 pointing to its location. Fortunately, there were local citizens who knew the location of this site.

"In 1862, James Wood (1831-1923) lived on the site of his Cotton Gin which was just north of the present restaurant at the intersection of Highway 22 and 142. Having learned that a battle was coming, he gathered his family and a few possessions, and late in the afternoon of April 5, 1862, headed southwest along the Corinth-Pittsburg Landing Road. This old road is still partially visible in the woods just north of this site.

"At this location, now marked, he found General Albert Sidney Johnston camped under a large Post Oak tree."

Over the years, Woods' relatives frequently pointed out the site to visitors. ...

... and sprinkled along Route 22, near the national military park, you'll find these fabulous, old cast-iron Shiloh historical tablets. The veterans themselves determined where most of these were placed. This one happens to be smack-dab in someone's front yard. ...

... and this one, which desperately needs TLC, denotes the position of a brigade of Johnston's Army of the Mississippi. Off to our main destination ...

"Corinth, Mississippi, to be Waterloo of the war," the New York Herald predicted in early April 1862," before the result of the Battle of Shiloh.

Well, Beauregard's boys held out much longer than expected -- thanks to Halleck's case of the slows  and some ingenious subterfuge that included Quaker guns in earthworks.

A few miles north of downtown Corinth, the National Park Service maintains a small site where you can view Confederate earthworks in the woods. Trust me. They are out there. Somewhere. ...

... and deep in those same woods, I also found this. Hmmm... not encouraging.

Finally, the Crossroads of the Confederacy! 

On my last visit to Corinth, I ignored this famous junction, visiting instead an indoor Civil War axe throwing venue on North Fillmore. ("Whether you want to channel your inner lumber jack or just try out a fun and competitive hobby," according to this tout, "axe throwing is a fun and unique sport that’s taking North America by storm.") Hmmm ... that wouldn't cut it for me this time.

Corinth was at the junction of two vital railroad lines, the Mobile & Ohio and Memphis & Charleston, hence the U.S. Army’s huge interest in occupation. Strange as it may seem, this humble town helped keep the Confederate Army fueled for fighting in the Western theater and beyond. "More important than Richmond," some big-wigs in the Federal command called Corinth.

There's a museum at the depot, but it was closed because of the holiday. Bummer.

... but there's still plenty to see near the railroad junction. Here's the site on Fillmore Street of long-gone Rose Cottage, where Johnston made his HQ and after Shiloh his body lay in state.

... and here's the beautiful, privately owned house down the street that Confederate general Leonidas Polk used as headquarters.

... and on Polk Street Street stands the old W.L. Duncan House, used by Beauregard as a headquarters and later by Union General William Rosecrans during the Battle of Corinth in early October 1862. (It's now a private dwelling.) Confederate Private Thomas Duncan wrote his war-time recollections here in his boyhood home, which once stood on Jackson Street. 

...and on Jackson Street, we find the outstanding Verandah-Curlee House, the exclamation point of my visit. OMG! OMG! Owned by the city and open for tours, it was used by Confederate generals John Bell Hood and Braxton Bragg as a headquarters and by "Old Brains" himself in 1862. Ah, I could feel my IQ rising as I soaked in this scene. The site of Ulysses Grant's HQ, now occupied by Corinth police headquarters, is directly across the street.

OK, we're done with ya, Corinth. Until next time ...

... and whoa! On the return trip to Shiloh, I was jolted by this unusual sight outside Larry DeBerry's Shiloh museum/shop.

OK, time's up. Thanks for riding along.

Let's keep history alive.

---

-- Have something to add, correct? E-mail me at jbankstx@comcast.net

How a Civil War nerd spent his Fourth of July: Tebbs Bend!

Needing a shave, a beer, a toothbrush and a new ballcap, your humble blogger at his destination.

 Like this blog on Facebook | Follow me on Twitter
What's the best way to practice social distancing outside? Go visit a Civil War battlefield. That's what I did on the Fourth, leaving Nashville at 10 a.m. for my first visit to the Tebbs Bend (Ky.) battleground. On the trip through the Bluegrass State, I passed the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green (does it have mannequins of 75-year-old bald men in the vehicles?), the epically named Rugged Truth Barber Shop in Columbia, a lemonade stand along a highway in gawd-knows-where and lots of roadkill.

Miles traveled to battlefield: 144. Mask wearers observed indoors in Kentucky: 0. (Sigh.) Time zones experienced: two. Dead possums passed: Can't count that high. Arrival: 1:20 Eastern. Temperature at the field: Blistering.

The now-overgrown campsite of  25th Michigan Infantry, which whipped a much larger force of cavalry
at Tebbs Bend on July 4, 1863. (CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

This iron truss bridge used to span the Green River. Now it overlooks campsite of the 25th Michigan. 

Tebbs Bend battlefield scouting report: excellent wayside markers. (Damn. I read every ... single ... one. Alternate name: Battle of Green River Bridge. Inviting walking trails. Tour route: about three miles. Stops: 13. One 1907 iron truss bridge that used to span Green River. Two intimidating foxes spotted running through former campsite of 25th Michigan. Character of area: rural, much as it was in 1863. Rumors of bears in area. Hmmm ... not good. Visitors spotted on 157th anniversary of battle: three -- including one from my native Pennsylvania.

Site of Camp Hobson on the old James Allen Sublett farm.

Of course, one of those dang signs sucked me into stopping for this photo. From December 1861 to February 1862, this field was the site of Camp Hobson, a U.S. Army recruiting site and training camp. Nearly 2,000 volunteers -- they became the 13th and 21st Kentucky -- mustered into the U.S. Army here. Ah, I wonder what "treasures" they left behind.

Aptly named Green River.

There was little traffic on the battlefield road, so I stopped for this photo in the middle of the 21st-century bridge spanning the Green River, which 25th Michigan soldiers used for bathing. Probably looked something like this. (Avert your eyes!) Before the new bridge was built, the iron truss bridge was here; in 1863, a covered bridge spanned the Green River.

Confederates attacked toward the camera on the morning of July 4, 1863.

By sunset on July 4, 1863, the Confederacy was rocked by three defeats -- at Gettysburg, at Vicksburg and at this obscure battlefield. Here, on America's 87th birthday, 200 soldiers in the 25th Michigan under Colonel Orlando Moore whipped 2,500 dismounted calvary under Brigadier General John Hunt Morgan. Roughly 800 of Morgan's soldiers saw action, but still ... Casualties were very minor compared to Gettysburg and Vicksburg -- four dead and 16 wounded for the U.S. Army; at least 35 killed and 45 wounded for the Rebels.

Confederate artillery position astride Tebbs Bend Road. 

Nice wheels, Blogger Man.

From the small plateau in the first photo above, a battery of four Confederate cannon fired upon Moore's line (beyond the trees in the middle distance) early on the morning of the Fourth. I scanned the ground here for several minutes hoping to find evidence that these artilllerists were, as the wayside marker says, actually here in 1863. My "batting average" for relics spotted on battlefields is 215 points lower than this guy's lame career average.

In front yard of a mobile home, the Federals put their forward line. Check that: Home wasn't here in 1863.

So how did Moore pull this off against overwhelming odds and the vaunted Morgan, whose 1863 raids into Ohio, southern Indiana, Kentucky and West Virginia alarmed the powers-that-be in Washington? Guts, smarts and, apparently, a little attitude. Choosing superb defensive terrain the day before the battle, Moore set up a forward line behind rifle pits and another line about 100 yards behind in an open field.

"The scene was beautiful and exciting," 25th Michigan veteran John Swanger wrote decades after the war about the defensive preparations, "the men, wakeful with the thoughts of the coming struggle, were jovial and happy; the brightened barrels of the arms glittering in the moonlight rendered the view soul-inspiring."

The rifle pits were manned by only 75 soldiers. These men were ordered to eventually retreat to their right and left, thus explosing the advancing Rebels to fire from the concealed main defensive line behind abatis of felled trees. To Moore's right, the steeps banks of the Green River; to his left, another stretch of the winding river.

Genius. 

Another of the excellent markers on Tebbs Bend battlefield. This one describes the Confederates'
demand for 25th Michigan Colonel Orlando Moore to unconditionally surrender. 

After Morgan's artillery pounded the Federals, Confederates approached with U.S. Army lines with a flag of truce. Their demand: unconditional surrender. Moore delivered what I like to think was the 19th-century equivalent of a one-finger salute: "This being the Fourth of July," he told them in this field, "I cannot entertain the proposition of surrender."

And this fight was on... 

Behind excellent defenses, Moore's men held off eight assaults. Corporal Morgan Wallace of the 25th Michigan was among the six Federal deaths. His femoral artery was severed by a bullet, and the married father of two young children bled out and died in 30 minutes. The 27-year-old soldier's effects, including two gold pens, a great coat, a pocketbook containing a dollar, 13 sheets of papers and 14 envelopes, were sent home to his wife, Ellen. Deep respect.

Confederate cemetery on the Tebbs Bend battlefield high above the Green River.

After taking a beating from Moore's mighty, little band of warriors, Morgan realized any further attacks would be futile. "The enemy, having met with a heavy loss, after a battle of four hours' duration, retreated, leaving a number of killed and wounded on the field greater than the entire number of the patriotic little band that opposed them," 25th Michigan veteran Harvey C. Lambert wrote years later.

One of the last battlefield markers I read before I headed home. "Michigan Man' Bo Schembechler 
would have loved it. (CLICK ON ALL IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

Thumbs up for this visit: Two. Photos taken: 43. Questions remaining about Tebbs Bend: Scores. (What's the real deal with this woman, who "tented with two of soldiers" of the 25th Michigan, "with whom she frequently went in swimming in the river"? Hmmm.) Suggested further reading on battle: Betty J. Gorin's Morgan Is Coming!, the fine Tebbs Bend Battlefield Association web site and its Facebook page, which includes excellent videos. I'm digging in on this one.

Stop the insanity: Leave quarantine for a few hours for a battlefield near you.

---

-- Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

SOURCES

-- Morgan Wallace dependents' pension file, National Archives and Records Service, Washington, D.C., via fold3.com.
-- South Bend (Ind.) News-Times, July 1, 1913.
-- The National Tribune, Feb. 28, 1889.

'Outrageously treated': Souvenir hunters plunder 'Old Zolly'

In 1894, Frank Leslie's Illustrated published this illustration of Felix Zollicoffer's death
at the Battle of Mill Springs (Ky.) on Jan. 19, 1862. (Courtesy of Library Special Collections, WKU)

Like this blog on Facebook | Follow me on Twitter | More on Battle of Mill Springs 
Riddled with enemy lead, Confederate Brigadier General Felix Kirk Zollicoffer's body lay on the cold Kentucky ground surrounded by gawking Federal soldiers.

"What in hell are you doing here?" a Union officer shouted at the men as the Battle of Mill Springs swirled on Jan. 19, 1862. "Why are you not at the stretchers bringing in the wounded?"

Union soldiers derisively called Confederate
Brigadier General Felix Zollicoffer
"Snollegoster" and "old he-devil."
(Library of Congress)

"This is Zollicoffer," one of them replied.

"I know that," the officer said. "He is dead and could not be sent to hell by a better man, for Col. Fry shot him; leave him and go to your work."

Earlier that misty, cold morning, Zollicoffer — a former Tennessee congressman and newspaper editor from Nashville — had mistakenly ridden into Union lines. After a volley or two, Zollicoffer fell dead from his horse, shot through the chest. Federal Colonel Speed Smith Fry may have fired the fatal bullet into the 49-year-old commander, derisively called "Snollegoster" and an "old he-devil" by the Yankees.

Sadly, even in death, Yankees targeted Zollicoffer.

Days after the battle, a New York newspaper correspondent spotted the general's body in front of the tent of the 10th Kentucky sutler, wrapped in a blanket. Zollicoffer's skin was "beautifully white and clear," the reporter noted, and his face had a "pleasant expression," which "grim in death was not altogether destroyed." Zollicoffer had shaven off his beard, "probably in order to be less easily recognized," the correspondent speculated.

But souvenir hunters had stripped "Old Zolly" of his clothes, from the rubber coat over his uniform to his shirt, undershirt and socks. An Ohio private snipped three buttons from his coat. Fiends even cut Zollicoffer's hair close to his skull.

     PANORAMA: The death site of General Felix Zollicover is marked by the monument.
                                     (Click icon at right for full-screen experience.)

---

The death of General Zollicoffer was front-page news in Northern newspapers. Here's a headline
from the Rutland (Vt.) Daily Herald on Jan. 21, 1862.

"l am sorry to say that his remains were outrageously treated by the thousands of soldiers and citizens that flocked to see them." wrote the New York reporter, probably exaggerating the number of ghouls. (This theft from a fallen officer was not unique: While Union General John Sedgwick's body lay at an embalmer in Washington, "a lady exhibited a singular pertinacity," a newspaper reported, "to procure a memento of the fallen hero by clipping two buttons from his coat.")

Union Colonel Speed S. Fry may have 
fired the bullet that killed Felix Zollicoffer.
 (Library of Congress)

Some denied the New York newspaper correspondent's report of the ill-treatment of Zollicoffer remains, but the evidence seems irrefutable.

"I have a small piece of Zollicoffer's undershirt," a Federal soldier bragged, "and a daguerreotype of a secession lady, taken with a lot of other plunder." An Ohio newspaper reported a Union officer showing off a piece of the general's buckskin shirt: "It was very soft, and must have been exceedingly comfortable if kept dry."

A week after the battle, 31st Ohio Captain John W. Free wrote of soldiers dividing Zollicoffer's clothes as trophies — "until orders were imperatively given not to do so any more.

"But his pants and the fine buckskin shirt is no doubt scatered all over the different States of the North," the officer added, "as some 4 or 5 different states were here represented."

Another Ohioan confirmed Free's account. "When the soldiers saw Zollicoffer’s corpse," wrote Private John Boss of the 9th Ohio, "they tore his clothing from his body, and split up his shirt, in order to have a souvenir. A Tennessean wanted his whole scalp, but was prevented from that because a guard was placed there."

Joseph Graeff got a lock
 of Zollicoffer's hair and a
 "piece cut from his pantaloons."
(Courtesy 9th Ohio Infantry site)

In a letter to a friend, 9th Ohio quartermaster sergeant Joseph Graeff wrote of Zollicoffer: "Inclosed you will find a lock of his hair and a piece cut from his pantaloons. Shortly after the battle I hunted for his corpse, and found it lying in the mud."

United States authorities eventually stopped the macabre nonsense, and Zollicoffer's mud-spattered body was washed and placed in a tent under guard. "Having no clothing suitable in which to dress him," a witness recalled, "he was wrapped in a nice-new blanket until they could be procured, after which he was dressed and provided for in a handsome manner. ... Particular regard and unusual respect were shown his body by officers and men."

Chaplain Lemuel F. Drake of the 31st Ohio viewed the general's remains on a board in the tent. "I saw the place where he was shot, and laid my hand upon his broad forehead," he wrote. "He was about six feet tall, and compactly and well built, one of the finest heads I ever saw."

Inscription on  Felix Zollicoffer's
 marker in Old Nashville (Tenn.) City Cemetery.

Days after the battle, a Union Army surgeon embalmed Zollicoffer's body in Somerset, Ky. The remains were placed in a metallic coffin and handed over by the Federals to the Confederates under a flag of truce. Back in his native Tennessee, soldiers and Confederate sympathizers treated one of Nashville's leading citizens reverentially.

On Feb. 1, the general's body arrived in Nashville, where, despite rainy, "exceedingly disagreeable weather," thousands filed past the remains at the State Capitol Building. The next day, the procession to Zollicoffer's grave site at Nashville City Cemetery, a little more than a mile away, was "one of the largest ever seen" in the city.

Among the mourners were his five daughters: Virginia, 24; Ann Maria, 17; Octavia Louise, 15; Mary Dorothy, 12; Felicia, 7; and Loulie, 5. (Zollicoffer's wife, Louisa Pocahontas, had died in 1857.)

"First in the fight," reads the inscription on a marker next to Zollicoffer's gravestone. "and first in the arms of the white winged angel of glory, with his hero heart at the feet of God and his wounds to tell the story."

Felix Zollicoffer's gravestone and marker (below) in Old Nashville City Cemetery.

---

-- Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

SOURCES 

• 9th Ohio Private John Boss letter from Camp Hamilton, Jan. 22, 1862, 9th Ohio Infantry web site, accessed March 13, 2020
• Cincinnati Daily Press, Feb. 8, 11, 1862
• Detroit Free Press, Jan. 25, 1862
• Perry County Weekly, New Lexington, Ohio, Feb. 5, 1862 (transcribed by Jo An Sheely via excellent Death of Felix K. Zollicoffer section by Geoffrey R. Walden on the Experience Mill Springs website. Walden's page also includes a passage from Jan. 24, 1862, letter by Private Thomas Porter of the 1st Ohio Light Artillery, who wrote of cutting off buttons from Zollicoffer's coat. Accessed March 10, 2020.)
• Philadelphia Press, Jan. 21, 1862
• The Bucyrus (Ohio) Journal, Jan. 31, 1862
• The Cincinnati Commercial, February 1862
• The Cincinnati Enquirer, Jan. 25, 1862
• The Daily Register, Knoxville, Tenn., Feb. 4, 1862
• The Washington Star, May 12, 1864

Please step into my Civil War research room

A sampling of regimental histories in my collection.

 Like this blog on Facebook.
The Internet Archive hasn't mastered the fabulous smell of old books, but it continues to do a tremendous job digitizing old -- and often rare -- published works from U.S. history, including many Civil War regimental histories. On my blog, I have created a one-stop shop for those histories here. The regimentals are invaluable research tool for everything from little-known battlefield stories to war-time and post-war images of soldiers and battlefields. I have about a dozen original regimental histories in my collection in the nooks and crannies of Banks Manor. For this absent-minded blogger, it's great to find them all in one place.