Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-03-16
The Col. of the Fourth
A Story of the Late War.
BY nHRnHRD n1osBx.

And the Northern heroes muster fol the fray by thousands. Sherman has Joined the Tennessee expedition, Bucl is hurrying from Nashville, and Smith, with forty thousand soldiers and seven, ty transports, has pitched his tents al Pittsburgh Landing, an obscure spot, whose name ere long shall darl1en the page of history; and Grant is there, a shadowy picture iIf the background at first, but soon to take the leadership ot that vast array. Like two huge, angry monsters, those great armies lie, but thirty miles apart.
 On a plateau, two miles from the Landing, stood log meeting-house known as Shiloh Church, which has given its name to tlle bloody battle fought near it's peaceful walls.
 Smith was in the throes of death, and Grant was in command, with Sherman for his staunch right hand, while on the other side of the river Buell. with forty. thousand men was but a few miles dis tant.
 And Beauregard and Johnston at Corinth knew that their only hope was to crush Grants army before Buell. could reach it.
 On the third of April the Southern host stole noiselessly from their strong hold, and on the fifth camped on the wet gound, without fires, at a spot scarce a mile from the Federal piclets,
 At dawn on Sunday morning, while Grant, little suspecting the danger that threatened him, had crossed the river to consult Buell., the storm burst; for hardly had the pail of night lifted than from tho NUnn1S TNnItpaA fnp.fh fhn h. ern hosts on the astounded picl1ets.
 At eight o'clock Grant returned to gaze with sadness on battle almost lost, and which, but for Sherman's gal. lant bearing, would have been an ab. solute rout.
 At noon the entire Federal army had been driven from their camp, and were crowded into a space of little more than four hundred acres on the verge of the bluff overlooking the Landing, towards which they were rushing in wild con. fusion.
 At two o'clock, it seemed indeed Q Confederate victory. But mid the ringing shout of triumph came the wal of grief-Johnston was shot through the with sense enough to stop the flowing
 
 toriously with Beauregard, sick him, self nigh into death, in the van.
 And now Grant was at bay-the con- ,quering foe before him. the river roll. ing on his rear.
 But the stout heart never failed him. and with dogged determination he rallied his men. Before the enemy could reach them, they must cross Q Ci; cfl a bottom full of water.
 Now was his chance.
 As with Southern dash and bravery they rushed to cross this treacherous defile, Grant swept them with the frag ments of his batteries, poured on them the leaden hail of musketry, while two gun-boats raincd shells upon the way ing line, which literally melted away before the whitening volleys.
 And now that cry-that wild hurrah' The Fighting Fourth came shouting to the field!
 Night closed on the ghastly scene But what night for Grant-his camps gone. thirty flags and immense stores in the hands of the enemy, and three thousand of his men prisoners of war.
 But during the night a change came over JllS ItNlS VI dl1dcG with five thousand men and three divisions of Buells army had crossed the stream, to the aid of the beleaguered Federals.
 And Monday morning dawned with drizzling rain. No longer crouching from n foe he could not grapple, Grant gave the command to advance, and with a wild hurrah the whole line moved forward, and as Wallace says: "Step by step, from tree to tree, position to position, the Confederates went back, never stopping again." In vain the brave Beauregard rode to and fro be- fore his troops, melting them to action; the tide of fortune had turned against them. Yet, fighting to the last, they fell back on Corinth, whose drowning guns held Grants advance in check.
 It was dreary work that followed for the next six weeks-digging trenches, making corduroy roads and advancing at the rate of half mile a day, with the