February 22 was not only George Washington’s birthday, but was also the date given in Lincoln’s General War Order No. 1, which ordered that the “22nd day of February 1862, be the day for a general movement of the Land and Naval forces of the United States against the insurgent forces.”

Lincoln gave special mention to General Halleck’s Army of the Tennessee under General Grant at Cairo, Il, General Buell’s Army of the Cumberland in Kentucky, the forces at Fortress Monroe, the army in Western Virginia, and the Army of the Potomac.

Since today is that date, let’s find out how things are going.

Obviously, with the fall of Forts Henry and Donelson, the Army of the Tennessee under General Grant had done well. So well, in fact, that he had taken the nearby Cumberland River town of Clarksville and was itching to hit Nashville, which, by this date, had been almost fully abandoned by the Rebels. He was growing “tired of waiting for action in Washington” concerning his request to command all western armies (including Buell’s). Still worried about defending the scantily-defended Cairo, Illinois, he was urging Buell to “come down to the Cumberland and divide the responsibility with me.”

Though he had done more than any department commander to heed Lincoln’s order, on this date, Halleck’s request to command all the troops in the west was denied by the President. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton had proposed it, but Lincoln did “not think any change in the organization of the Army or the military departments at present advisable. He desires and expects you and General Buell to co-operate fully and zealously with each other, and would be glad to know whether there has been any failure of co-operation in any particular.” Halleck would, of course, protest. In order for the west to be won, he believed that he needed to control Buell’s army.

Buell’s Army of the Cumberland, however, was now on the move. Though he had told General-in-Chief McClellan that it would take him an indefinite amount of time to take Nasvhille, he had just told Halleck that he would “start from here [Bowling Green] to-morrow [the 22nd], and expect to be opposite or near Nashville to-morrow night.” The problem, as explained to McClellan, earlier, was that the railroad from Bowling Green to Louisville was wrecked. As it turned out, it wasn’t wrecked nearly as bad as it could have been. By this date, they had repaired two locomotives, gathered some rolling stock, shoved 1,200 troops on board and headed for Nashville.

Due to the weather (and not the Rebels), four bridges had been washed out, so Buell would take a little longer to arrive than expected. By this date, he was thirty-six miles north of the city. General Mitchel’s Division was taking to the road. Other divisions were slowly concentrating on Nashville, as well.

The forces in and near Fort Monroe, had taken Roanoke Island. By this date, General Ambrose Burnside’s North Carolina Expedition was setting its sites upon New Bern and various other points farther inland. Though there was still opposition under Confederate General Henry Wise, they had swept the sound around Roanoke clean.

Winters in the mountains of Western Virginia were harsh, but still General William Rosecrans, headquartered in Wheeling, was planning for spring. On February 7, he submitted a plan that would send two columns, one from the Gauley Bridge area, through Princeton, the other from the Big Sandy River, which separated Kentucky from Western Virginia, towards Abingdon, Virginia. This would clear Western Virginia of all Rebel armies. A week later, McClellan approved the plan with some modifications that would take until the middle of March to sort out.

This left the Army of the Potomac under General George McClellan, also the General-in-Chief in command of all the armies. Four days after issuing his General War Order No. 1, President Lincoln issued a specific order for the Army of the Potomac, called Special War Order No. 1, which specifically ordered McClellan to move on Manassas by February 22.

In protestation, McClellan submitted a wholly different plan, which would require a change of base to the Virginia Peninsula. Lincoln, not really caring how McClellan got to Richmond, was more or less fine with it, just as long as the General was doing something.

The successes in the west shed some perspective on the inactivity in the east. Just after Fort Donelson fell, Secretary of War Stanton was buttonholed by Ben Wade and Andrew Johnson, two members of the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War. McClellan was to blame, they said, and Stanton called the General to join them for this informal chat. McClellan told them the same exact thing he told them a month earlier. He had to prepare his army, he couldn’t go into Virginia without first securing a line of retreat. While this is sound military practice, it seemed like McClellan was more focused upon losing than winning.

Since January, Ben Wade had been trying to get McClellan to be replaced by General McDowell. After meeting with Secretary Stanton after the fall of Donelson, and again the following day (the 20th), the Secretary agreed. McClellan, due to his inactivity, had to go.

McClellan’s military philosophy of gathering a perfect Army of the Potomac, mystic and strong, to wage but one decisive battle to determine the war, wasn’t flying with Stanton. The Secretary, like Wade and Johnson, believed that it would take many battles and much time, and that the sooner it was begun, the better.

McClellan had a new plan by now, anyway. This one involved parts of the army not included in his Peninsula plan. It involved tricking the Rebels by building a pontoon bridge across the Potomac, but not using it. Meanwhile, he would build another bridge at Harpers Ferry and use that one to assail Stonewall Jackson in Winchester.

It wouldn’t be until the 25th when Stanton could make his case against McClellan to President Lincoln.

And so President Lincoln’s War Order No. 1 had its expected effect. All of the armies were on the move, but McClellan’s Army of the Potomac, which had, at least, some plans for a spring move. It may not have been exactly what Lincoln wanted, but things were in much better shape than they were on January 27, when he issued the order.

Dawn slowly edged out the cold desert night, a clouded sky painting New Mexico gray. While most of the Confederates lingered around campfires, cooking breakfast and feeding their mounts, the 5th Texas, under Col. Tom Green, made a loud demonstration against Union Fort Craig, across the Rio Grande. A vanguard of 180 men scouted the road to Valverde Ford, a river crossing several miles north of the fort. If the Rebels held the ford, they severed the Union supply line.

The scouting party saw no Union soldiers at the ford and sent a message back to General Henry Sibley. By 8am, the 4th Texas was on the move. Col. Edward Canby, Union commander, however, saw through the ruse and sent cavalry under Col. Benjamin Roberts to the ford to halt the Confederate advance.

By the time Roberts got to the ford, the 180 Rebels had taken cover in a grove of cottonwood trees. Not wanting to allow the Confederates to secure a foothold on the ford, he sent across a few companies who charged the Rebels through a hailstorm of lead, soon scattering them away from the water. This reprieve allowed Roberts to place his guns in anticipation of Confederate reinforcements.

But Confederate reinforcements, nearly 500 troopers of the 4th Texas under Lt. Col. William Scurry, were, by 11am, moving into position on the right of the small scouting party with artillery of their own. Though outnumbered, the Rebels were intent upon retaking the cottonwood grove and then the ford.

Before the Rebel artillery had a chance to do too much damage, Union artillery under Capt. Alexander McRae opened up, driving the opposing guns back. Though farther away, the Confederates found a better position and shelled McRae’s battery as best they could. In the meantime, additional Union reinforcements were coming up, while Scurry’s Rebels had to make do with what they had. Though their fight was desperate, they simply could not outgun Roberts’ Federal force.

The Rebels had been pushed back to higher ground, and Roberts securely held the ford. Just as things were looking up, word came through that 500 Rebels had crossed the Rio Grande and threatened the Union rear. Col. Kit Carson and part of his regiment had just arrived and so Roberts sent him up to stop the Rebels. There were, however, no Rebels coming in on the Union rear and Carson was effectively taken out of the fight, for the time being.

The remaining Union reinforcements, under Capt. Henry Seldon, were ordered to attack a Confederate detachment that had moved closer to the Union left. They crossed the armpit-high river, reformed their lines, and drove the Rebels back. Col. Scurry had been on the Confederate right when Seldon made his attack. Fortunately, Major Samuel “Nicaragua” Lockridge, with several companies of the 5th Texas, arrived. Scurry immediately threw them in on the left, hoping to stop the advance.

As the Union left was extended, it soon overlapped the Confederate right. Making their way towards Scurry’s right flank were 400 Federal troops. One company of the 5th Texas was commanded by Captain Willis L. Lang, who had outfitted his troopers with lances. These pikes were topped with blades three inches wide by twelve inches long. While certainly deadly against similar weapons, they stood no chance at all against Federals ten times their number armed with rifles.

In the words of Col. Tom Green, who had arrived on the battlefield, taking charge in Sibley’s absence (he was ill again, possibly drunk):

Captain Lang, of the Fifth Regiment, with about 40 of his lancers, made at this time one of the most gallant and furious charges on these light troops of the enemy ever witnessed in the annals of battles. His little troop was decimated, and the gallant captain and Lieutenant Bass severely wounded — the latter in seven places.

Though Green related that his foes were “repulsed by this gallant charge, and our right was for some time unmolested,” that was untrue. Col. Scurry, with more reason to be honest, since the landers were not part of his command, recalled that “desperate courage was ineffectual against great odds and superior arms.”

The Union reinforcements tipped the scale by 2pm and allowed Roberts to throw his artillery onto the east side of the river. The guns, under Captain McRae, made quick work of their Confederate opponents.

With that, a lull fell across the battlefield, allowing some of the men to break for lunch. With more understanding of the Confederate position, Col. Canby knew that a frontal attack would fail. He had to move the Rebels from the ford and resolved to hit them on their left. Canby marched with the rest of his command to the battlefield at Valverde Ford. His plan was to pivot on his left, while charging with his right and center. Kit Carson, finding no Rebels to the north, was ordered to join in the assault. As the Federals prepared for this late-day action, the Rebels were preparing a little something of their own.

They had taken a position behind a crest, out of view of the Federals. The Union artillery, not 600 yards to their front, became too tempting a target for the newly-arrived Col. Tom Green. All up and down the line, the order to advance flew. At the given signal, 1,000 Rebels scrambled to their feet, up over the embankment, and charged, running and screaming, towards the Union guns.

Though shocked, the Union right held, repulsing the Rebels “with great slaughter.” The Union left, where Capt. McRae’s Battery was posted, was a different matter. The Rebels on the Union right did not come in a great mass, but were deployed as skirmishers, perhaps half a mile wide, led by Col. “Nicaragua” Lockridge. “Armed with double barreled fowling pieces and revolvers, and converging as they approached,” reported Col, Canby, “a rapid and destructive fire was poured into the battery.”

Though McRae’s battery defended their guns, the Rebels were within their ranks, killing and dying. One of the first to fall was Col. Lockridge, who was killed after placing a hand upon one of the guns. Soon after, Union Capt. McRae was killed in much the same fashion.

The guns had fallen silent, but the melee continued in a desperate hand-to-hand conflagration. Finally, the Union artillerymen were driven from the field, leaving behind them half their number and all of their guns.

For a short while, Canby entertained the idea that he could still win the day. But seeing the growing number of Rebels, he realized “that to prolong the contest would only add to the number of our casualties without changing the result.” He managed to retreat his force, minus the wounded and the artillery, to the other side of the river and finally back to Fort Craig.

Though a Confederate victory, each side lost roughly the same in number. The Union sustained 68 killed,
160 wounded, and 35 missing. The Rebels reported their losses as 36 killed, 150 wounded and 1 missing.

For the next two days, both sides cared for their wounded and buried their dead, usually under a flag of truce.

The topography of New Mexico is beautiful, sparse and unique. To get a better idea of what it looks like, please visit the Fort Craig site at CivilWarToday.com.

General Sibley’s Confederate Army of New Mexico rose before the sun, continuing their flank march up the eastern shore of the Rio Grande. Their objective, eight or so miles north, was Valverde Ford, along the Union supply line to nearby Fort Craig. If the Rebels held the ford, they could starve out (or force out) Col. Canby’s troops, defeat them and continue on to Albuquerque.

The first few miles of the Rebels’ trek was easy traveling upon a well-used trail. Once they negotiated a small rise, they came into view of Fort Craig, still four miles distant and across the river. General Sibley, confined to an ambulance due to being either sick or drunk or both, wanted to avoid Union artillery fire and ordered his column off the road.

One of the Arizona Rangers (CS) apparently knew the land and was selected to lead the army around a mesa. They had hoped to reach Valverde Ford before dark, but due to the deep sand, sinking wagons to their axles, the Rebels inched along.

As they struggled, scouts reported Federal troops massing to their front. Then, as the sun crossed the sky, blue cavalry could be seen to the north. And then it was infantry. The Rebels, by this time, had moved due east of Fort Craig and were on high ground. If the Union troops were going to attack, Sibley wanted to fight them here.

Lt. Col. Benjamin S. Roberts of the 5th New Mexico Volunteers (US)

In reports, Sibley is often mentioned ordering this or that, but in reality, it was probably Col. Tom Green, second in command. The Rebels were ordered to form line of battle across one of the arroyos, placing artillery in the center of the line.

Meanwhile, Union Col. Canby at Fort Craig had just received his last reinforcements, bringing his numbers to 3,800, arrayed against Sibley’s nearly 2,600. With a fort and 1,200 more men, there was little chance of Union failure. It was then, after receiving the 2nd New Mexico Militia, that Canby decided to take Sibley’s bait. He left the defenses of Fort Craig in the middle of the afternoon, establishing his own line of battle opposite Sibley’s.

Canby was across the river, but still not sure where the Rebel battle line had been formed. He deployed a regiment worth of Regulars and New Mexico Volunteers to find out. Just as they were dispatched, Col. Tom Green ordered his artillery to fire. The shells pierced the crisp air, soaring over the heads of the Union skirmishers, but sending rocks and shrapnel amongst them.

Captain Rafael Chacon of the 1st New Mexico Volunteers (US)

The Federal troops fired a few harmless volleys at long range, as their own artillery joined the half-hearted fight. Few Union troops were injured, but many of the raw recruits scattered. When Major Samuel “Nicaragua” Lockridge led his 5th Texas Mounted Volunteers in a charge towards the Union line, the retreat became a route.

The sun had set and most of the Union troops had returned to Fort Craig. A small contingent known as Graydon’s Independent Spy Company, headed by Paddy Graydon, who had a “reputation for the spectacular,” was still on the Confederate side of the river.

Graydon had apparently obtained Col. Canby’s permission to launch a small night raid upon the Rebel encampment. Wanting to first confuse rather than to simply surprise them, he devised a bizarre little scheme.

He found two old, thirsty mules, tied a couple of wooden boxes to them, and then filled the boxes with exploding artillery shells, their fuses cut short. Graydon, along with three or four of his men, walked the mules towards the Rebel camp. The plan was to light the fuses and allow the mules to continue on to their conflagrant ends. This is not, however, what happened.

When the mules were on their way and the fuses lit, Graydon and his men turned tail for a safer view. The mules, perhaps more loyal than they should have been, turned their tails as well, chasing after the Union spies.

Fortunately for Graydon, but unfortunately for the mules, the short fuses were still long enough to give the blue fiends time to escape. The blasts woke the Rebels, who prepared for an attack. But there was no attack to receive. There was only Paddy Graydon and his merry band of ghouls slinking back across the Rio Grande.

Halleck Again Asks for Command; McClellan to Take Richmond in a Month?

In Missouri and Tennessee, while Union General Grant was about to capture Clarksville, with his eyes on Nashville, Halleck, in St. Louis, was still trying to figure out how to protect Cairo, Illinois from the Rebels. He had been diverting reinforcements to Cairo and was even wiring General Buell to help out.

How many Hallecks does it take to command all the armies in the west?

Trying to sort this all out was General-in-Chief George McClellan. From his Washington headquarters, McClellan had correctly perceived that Cairo was relatively safe. The Rebels in Columbus, not twenty miles down the Mississippi River from Cairo, would probably abandon the town, mused McClellan in a dispatch to Buell.

Halleck was convinced that the Confederates in Columbus had been reinforced from New Orleans and wanted to withdraw some of Grants troops at the recently taken Fort Donelson for protection. McClellan wasn’t buying it. He, like Buell and Grant, wanted to take Nashville, which they all incorrectly believed to still be occupied by the Rebels. Buell, however, believed that he was in no position to take it just yet.

With Buell stuck in the mud and Grant held in an inter-departmental limbo, Halleck’s fear of a Confederate attack upon Cairo turned to panic. It was in this panic that he again asked McClellan to put him in charge of all western armies.

I must have command of the armies in the West. Hesitation and delay are losing us the golden opportunity. Lay this before the President and Secretary of War. May I assume the command? Answer quickly.

H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General.

Little Mac, no doubt looking into the future where Richmond falls within a month!

McClellan, who answered four or five hours later, didn’t believe that was necessary, as he “did not see that Buell cannot control his own line.” A half hour later, McClellan wired both Buell and Halleck and told them to report to him more often. “Unless I have this detailed information,” reasoned McClellan, “I cannot tell whether it is necessary or not to suspend or abandon my own plans here [in Washington against the Confederates at Manassas].”

According to McClellan himself to Halleck earlier this day, “The rebels hold firm at Manassas. In less than two weeks I shall move the Army of the Potomac, and hope to be in Richmond soon after you are in Nashville. [...] We will have a desperate battle on this line.” To Buell, he wrote that he hoped “to have Richmond and Norfolk in from three to four weeks.”

February 22, the date given in Lincoln’s General War Order No. 1 for Union forces to launch their attacks upon Confederate strongholds was drawing nigh.

In the hustle and bustle that was the Forts Henry and Donelson Campaign, Union General Halleck, commander of the Department of Missouri, was fearful, even panicked, of a Confederate attack on Cairo, Illinois from Columbus, Tennessee, not too far downstream. He had ordered General John Pope to the west shore of the Mississippi for extra assurance and had given General William Tecumseh Sherman a new post.

After the fall of Fort Henry, but before the fall of Fort Donelson, Halleck placed Sherman in command at Cairo. Sherman was not yet the officer he would later become, but was well respected for his organizational skills. Cairo was the point through which Grant would receive reinforcements and supplies. Now that Grant had succeeded, however, Halleck feared that Cairo would be the focus of a Confederate counter strike.

On this date, Halleck wired Sherman not to allow any more troops to go north into Kentucky, but to retain them at Paducah and Cairo. He also warned him to “look out sharp for a movement from Columbus.”

While Halleck was worried about Grant’s supply line being cut, Grant was looking towards Nashville, an important Confederate city that was technically outside of his and Halleck’s jurisdiction. Such frivolities don’t seem to have entered Grant’s mind.

He had learned that Clarksville had been abandoned and he planned to occupy it in a couple of days. Both Sherman and Halleck were apprised of the situation. After taking Clarksville, Grant wanted Nashville, and told both that he could take it in a little over a week.

Nashville was under the jurisdiction of the Union Department of the Cumberland, commanded by General Don Carlos Buell. Grant, being under Halleck, would be stretching his authority if he went for Nashville. It was Grant, however, who was the only Union commander in the know. Both Buell and Halleck (because of Buell) believed that Clarksville was still occupied by the Rebels, who planned to make a stand at Nashville. What nobody, not even Grant, knew was that the Confederates under General Albert Sidney Johnston were abandoning Nashville as well, regrouping at Murfreesboro, thirty-five miles to the south.

General A.S. Johnston believed that abandoning Nashville, a city once considered for the Confederate capital, would greatly benefit his army, as by pulling back, they could concentrate their numbers. The citizens of Nashville, however, were much less than amused. Their anger at being left to the mercy of the Yankees caused them to take to the streets and storm Johnston’s headquarters.

The Confederates weren’t just moving soldiers out of town, they wanted to take supplies, rations and machinery used to make weapons. Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest was called in to restore order, but even he could do little. The people, who had been told and who believed that Nashville could never fall, were confused, panicked and furious at the loss of their town. All confidence in Johnston was gone.

In their hurry to leave Nashville, and due to looting, Johnston’s Army of Tennessee left behind nearly half of their supplies.

The New Mexico Rebels Move, Kit Carson Rides to Cut Them Off

Way down southwest in Dixie, General Henry Sibley’s Confederate Army of New Mexico, the size of a brigade, was beginning their move to sidestep Union Fort Craig along the Rio Grande. The Rebels, mostly Texans, needed to neutralize the 3,000 Union troops under Col. Edward Canby, occupying Fort Craig, if they wanted to continue their campaign towards Albuquerque and Sante Fe.

The Rebel camp and Fort Craig were both on the west side of the Rio, with the Rebels being several miles south of the fort. At dawn, Sibley’s troops made their way across the river, using a ford a few miles south of their camp. Their plan was to move up the eastern shore and take Valverde Ford, cutting off the Union supply line. They would feast upon the Union supplies and force Col. Canby to attack them on ground of their own choosing.

They took their time in crossing. Today’s march would be short, just three miles to the village of Paraje de Fra Cristobal. They reached the village around 3pm and made their camp for the night. Before sleeping, they cooked three day’s worth of rations for the coming campaign.

Always watching the Confederates, Col. Canby had a hunch he knew what they were up to. They had crossed the Rio Grande, and he suspected their objective was a bluff across the river that overlooked the fort. To meet them, he sent two regiments under Col. Miguel Pino and the famous Indian fighter and Wild West legend, Col. Kit Carson.

Before war broke out, Kit Carson had acted as a guide to John C. Fremont’s 1842 exploration of the west, bringing the frontiersman to the national stage. During the Mexican war, he guided General Stephen Kearny to California and acted as President Polk’s messenger, taking dispatches to and from the west.

Between the wars, Carson was a Federal Indian Agent, engaged in both helping and fighting the natives. When word of the Rebellion reached his ranch near Taos, New Mexico, Carson resigned his post and began to recruit for the 1st New Mexico Volunteer Infantry Regiment. He, along with Col. Canby and several others, organized nearly 6,000 New Mexicans, mostly paisonos, untrained, but patriotic farmers.

The 1st New Mexico, under Carson, drilled in Albuquerque until January, when it made its way to Fort Craig, where they were, no doubt, warmly welcomed.

Little in this war existed in a vacuum. The fall of both Forts Henry and Donelson had wide and immediate effects.

Union General Grant had captured not only the fort, but up to 14,000 Confederate prisoners at Fort Donelson. This was not, however, the entire Rebel force. Some of Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest’s command, and about half of General John B. Floyd’s brigade had escaped with their commanders to Nashville.

Before the refugees from Donelson even arrived, General Albert Sidney Johnston, who had based his army in Nashville, ordered a retreat to Murfreesboro. When completed, Johnston’s Kentucky line would have but a tiny foothold in Kentucky. It’s left, along the Mississippi River, was to be commanded by General P.G.T. Beauregard in Columbus. Murfreesboro would hold the center, while a small contingent under Col. Rains held Cumberland Gap in the east. Struggling to keep at least a sliver of the Bluegrass State, Richmond ordered the Gap reinforced as quickly as possible.

While the right was reinforced and the center retreated, the Confederate left, at Columbus, for the time being, remained little-changed. General Beauregard had left Nashville to take command of all the troops between the Tennessee and Mississippi Rivers, only to fall ill and have to stop in Jackson. Beauregard’s poor health was a temporary boon for General Leonidus Polk, who was able to retain his position for a little while longer.

Beauregard’s plan would have infuriated Polk, who wished to hold Columbus. He had great faith in the defenses of the city, which he described as the “Gibraltar of the West.” Polk believed that he could hold out there for six months against a force many times his number.

Because he was ill, Beauregard sent a scout to check out the condition of the Columbus defenses. The scout reported that things were pretty shabby along the Mississippi and so Beauregard decided that Columbus had to be abandoned. This would allow the Confederates to focus their Mississippi River defense upon Island No. 10 near New Madrid.

Johnston generally agreed with Beauregard, but by this time, had given his subordinate what amounted to an independent command. “You must now act as seems best to you,” wrote the retreating Johnston to Beauregard. “The separation of our armies is for the present complete.”

Polk’s blissful ignorance would be short-lived as Beauregard requested him to drop by Jackson for a chat.

The Confederates weren’t the only folks thinking about the Mississippi River. Union General Halleck, commander of the Department of Missouri, had lived in fear of Polk moving north against Cairo, and cutting off Grant’s supply line. Thanks to Polk’s disposition, the fears were unfounded, but Halleck couldn’t have known that.

With the fall of Henry and Donelson, Halleck called General John Pope, who had been more or less languishing in central Missouri as a glorified provost marshal, to come to St. Louis. Halleck, like Beauregard, had his eye upon New Madrid and Island No. 10. He wanted Pope to organize a force to attack the Rebel strongholds.

Pope would first stop in Cairo to make sure that Polk was staying where he was supposed to stay, and then he would head to Commerce, Missouri, basing his operations from the small Mississippi River town, sixty miles upstream from Cairo. To add to Pope’s Army of the Mississippi, Halleck sent all new recruits and reinforcements that were headed for Grant’s army to Pope’s.

Halleck had his eye upon more than just New Madrid. While Grant was still busy sorting out his victory, the prisoners and the spoils, the commander of the District of Missouri recognized the limitations of the Union command structure in the west.

All of Missouri and the western part of Tennessee were within Halleck’s department. The rest of Tennessee was under the Department of the Cumberland, commanded by General Don Carlos Buell. Previous attempts at a harmony of action between the two generals never worked out and now that Grant, under Halleck, was poised on the Cumberland River, something had to change.

In a series of telegrams between Buell, Halleck and General-in-Chief McClellan the previous day, Buell had told McClellan that he planned on taking Nashville. Halleck, however, thought that it was a horrible idea. Apparently unaware that Nashville was being abandoned by the Rebels, Halleck nervously mused that Johnston’s force could steam down the Cumberland River, defeat Grant, and return to Nashville to ensure that Buell met the same fate.

When McClellan asked Halleck to elaborate with facts, Halleck shot back: “Make Buell, Grant, and Pope major-generals of volunteers, and give me command in the West. I ask this in return for Forts Henry and Donelson.” McClellan did not reply.

After asking Buell if he could send a force from Bowling Green to attack Clarksville, and after Buell replied that he would love to, but couldn’t, Halleck invited Buell to take command at Donelson so that he (Halleck) could focus upon the perceived threat to Cairo. Halleck’s letter to Buell is full of flattery and encouragement. He did not, however, mention that he wanted command of all of the western forces.

Little did the Union commanders know, but they had the Rebels in the west in a precarious situation. Beauregard was in bed, Polk in Columbus wasn’t budging, and Johnston, in the center, was retreating with both his Fort Donelson and Bowling Green forces. While Beauregard wanted to concentrate the army, Johnston had effectively split it in two. Amid their bickering and politicking, the Union high command was in great danger. Not from the Rebels, but from themselves.

It had been several days that had passed since Union Col. Canby at Fort Craig, New Mexico had a very slight brush with General Henry Sibley’s Confederate Army of New Mexico. Though the narrowly-averted battle was with Sibley’s Texan scouts, Canby knew that the rest of the Rebel army was near at hand.

“Army” was a generous term. What General Sibley had under his command was little more than a brigade, possibly 2,500 men. Canby’s force was about 3,000. As the Rebels marched the eighty or so miles north from Mesilla, New Mexico, they had been strung out, but in the past couple of days, they had been brought together into one unit, comprised mostly of Texans, with a smattering of Arizona men.

Sibley’s plan was to take Fort Craig, defeat Canby, and then march north along the Rio Grande for Albuquerque and Sante Fe. Taking Fort Craig, knew Sibley, would be no easy task. He hoped to somehow draw Canby out of his fortifications for a fair fight in the open.

The previous day, the Army of New Mexico, minus a sickly General Sibley, marched about a mile south of the Union fort, formed line of battle on a ridge and waited for something to happen. Not surprisingly, the Union troops, behind the safety of their ramparts, had little inkling to venture towards the Rebels entrenching on the high ground.

While Canby refused to give the Confederates the battle they wanted, he nipped at their heels with his cavalry as they returned to their camp.

With Sibley taken sick, Col. Tom Green assumed command. On this date, while the February winds kicked up a brutal dust storm, Green and several regimental commanders (and possibly Sibley), met to decide what to do next.

During the meeting, a recklessly brave major offered to lead a night assault against the fort, but even in the darkness, the chances of success were slim. Since Fort Craig could not be taken, Canby’s force would have to be drawn out and defeated. As the previous day’s action showed, they were timid about attacking over the ground south of the fort. Perhaps this was because they had nothing to gain or lose. But to the north was a vital ford across the Rio Grande at Valverde. Union supply wagons used this route to ship supplies to Col. Canby. If the Confederates held it, thought Green, Canby would have to attack.

Both the Army of New Mexico and Fort Craig were on the west side of the river. There was another ford a few miles south of the Rebel camp that they could use to cross to the eastern side, continue north to Valverde and wait. The Rebel army, which was low on supplies, could live off the stores that were, no doubt, en route to Fort Craig.

Inside Fort Craig, nerves were stretched to near breaking. Though Canby had dispatched scouts to watch the Rebels, he had no real idea what they were up to. Likewise, the Union soldiers dealt with the unknown in different ways. One particular soldier caused quite a rattling.

During the night, a succession of gunshots was heard close at hand. Thinking it was a Rebel night attack, the long roll was sounded and the entire garrison was impelled from their beds into the cold night. When it was discovered that it wasn’t the Rebels, but a Union soldier who turned to the bottle to relieve his anxiety, they were allowed to return to their slumber and to return to their ignorance and dread.

The First Battle in Arkansas

General Sterling Price, once the commander of the Missouri State Guard, now commanded a wing of the Confederate Army of the West, answering to General Earl Van Dorn. Price had occupied Springfield, Missouri until the 12th, when the threat of Union General Samuel Curtis’ Army of the Southwest made them beat a hasty retreat south on the Telegraph Road leading towards the Arkansas border.

In the days since, Price’s troops hardly stopped, even to sleep. On this day, they found themselves at Little Sugar Creek Valley, six miles south of the Missouri/Arkansas border, with the Union army only several hours behind.

As the Union troops crossed into Arkansas, their bands struck up “Arkansas Traveler,” written by Sandy Faulkner, who was now a colonel in the Confederate Army. By the early afternoon, the Union troops marched past Elkhorn Tavern and to the bluff leading into Little Sugar Creek Valley. Across the valley, a line of Rebel infantry and artillery could be seen, occupying choice defensive ground and appearing to make a stand.

Before long, General Curtis was told that the Rebels had been seen and he hurried to the front. By the time he arrived, however, the enemy had disappeared into the woods to their rear. He immediately ordered his artillery to fire into the trees. When no response came, he personally led a cavalry detachment in pursuit of the Confederates.

The Rebels that Curtis was currently chasing were not, however, of Price’s wing. They were three regiments of Arkansas and Louisiana troops under Col. Louis Hebert, part of General Ben McCulloch’s wing. They had been dispatched to aid Price, but Price had refused to make a stand. With the bulk of the Rebels on the run, Hebert had little choice but to act as Price’s rear guard as he made his way south.

The first Federal troops to catch up with them were cavalry, but Hebert was ready for them. He had positioned his three regiments on the eastern side of Telegraph Road, one of Price’s brigades on the western side, and his artillery on the road itself. With little hesitation, the Federal cavalry bolted forward, not realizing they were galloping into such a formidable force.

It wasn’t until the Rebel guns sounded, throwing steel over their heads, that they saw what was before them. The cavaliers split, some taking to the fields on either side of the road. The Rebels took advantage of the confusion so close at hand and fired into the panic-stricken swarm.

Meanwhile, General Curtis was hurrying forward his infantry and artillery. As the first brigade in line was filing into position, the Union guns were dueling with their Confederate counterparts across a half-mile wide plain. The infantry pitched in, but received an unwelcomed welcoming from the Rebel artillery. The Confederate infantry was fairing no better as the Union shells tore holes in their line.

Just as Col. Grenville Dodge’s brigade was coming up, Hebert thought it best that he and his Rebels make their egress. Night was soon falling and under such a cover, they made good their escape.

This was the first battle in Arkansas. Losses were heavy for such a quick fight, with the Union reporting thirteen killed and twenty wounded. Col. Hebert never reported his losses, but according to (often questionable) Federal claims, there were twenty-six Rebels killed.

By this point, General Curtis realized that the two wings of General Van Dorn’s Confederate Army of the West had now joined. This was the same combined force that was victorious at Wilson’s Creek. Nevertheless, he would continue his pursuit.

After the fighting of the 15th fell silent around Fort Donelson, and after the sun was well hidden by the horizon, Confederate Generals Floyd, Pillow and Buckner met to discuss the fate of their command. They had won the fight, opened the road to Nashville and secured their escape, but a misunderstanding ground them to a halt. Buckner wanted to escape immediately, while Pillow convinced Floyd (the commanding General) to wait until the next day.

Because there was little sleeping, it was the next day when they met. Floyd called all of his colonels and generals to Pillow’s headquarters in Dover, full in the believe that the road to Nashville was still wide open. There, he ordered a general withdraw from Fort Donelson to start in three hours.

But then word came from the pickets. The Union line that Pillow smashed to pieces the previous day, the line that had blocked the road to Nashville, had retaken their position. Their plan to escape was obvious and the road was retaken.

Floyd asked both Pillow and Buckner what was to be done. Pillow wanted the army to cut its way out of the jam yet again, while Buckner insisted that the men were too haggard to make the fight. General Floyd agreed. Pillow then suggested that they fight them for another day in the trenches around the fort and then escape across the Cumberland River in boats. Buckner replied that the men couldn’t even hold the trenches for half an hour. Floyd again agreed.

They would have to immediately move the men they could, and surrender those they couldn’t. Floyd figured that he could move two divisions by a couple of boats that were to be at the fort at dawn. Though Pillow was opposed to the surrender, he saw an opportunity to save himself. He boasted to Floyd that they were both highly sought after men, and the Union would love to lock them up, or worse. Therefore, urged Pillow, they should make their escape as well. And while Buckner thought it his duty to remain and surrender with his men, Pillow and Floyd were not so gallant.

“General Buckner,” said the more and more nervous General Floyd, “if I place you in command, will you allow me to get out as much of my brigade as I can?”

“I will,” replied Buckner, “provided you do so before the enemy receives my proposition for capitulation.”

Due to military protocol, Floyd couldn’t just turn over the fort to Buckner. He had to first give it to Pillow, his second in command. Motioning to Pillow, he said, “I turn the command over, sir.”

“I pass it,” Pillow quickly replied.

“I assume it,” said Buckner, picking up the hot potato. “Give me pen, ink, and paper, and send for a bugler.”

Neither wanting to surrender nor to sneak away, Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest, also attending the meeting, spoke up. He had not come out to hand over his command. He turned and asked General Pillow what he should do. “Cut your way out,” he replied. Forrest wasted little time gathering his and another regiment.

While Pillow and Floyd prepared to duck out, and Forrest made good his escape, Buckner penned a letter to Union General Grant:

Headquarters, Fort Donelson, February 16, 1862. Sir: In consideration of all the circumstances governing the present situation of affairs at this station I propose to the commanding officers of the Federal forces the appointment of commissioners to agree upon terms of capitulation of the forces and post under my command, and in that view suggest an armistice until 12 o’clock to-day. I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

S. B. BUCKNER, Brigadier-General, C.S. Army.

As the letter made its way to Grant’s headquarters, Pillow and Floyd made their way across the Cumberland. Pillow took a small craft, as Floyd, shoved off in a larger steamboat that also carried his Virginia troops, but no one else. Word spread quickly among the troops that they were to be surrendered.

Grant received the letter before dawn and replied at once, informing Buckner that “No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.” To make sure he was understood, Grant added, “I propose to move immediately upon your works.”

Grant was prepared to back up his words, as he had already put his division commanders on stand by.

When Buckner received the reply, he must have been furious. He and Grant had been friends at West Point, had served together in the old army, and Buckner had even loaned him money when he was down and out. All of this mattered not at all now. In his reply to Grant, he was compelled to “accept the ungenerous and unchivalrous terms.”

As the two old comrades met to discuss the details of the surrender, the mood softened. They talked of old times and paid each other compliment after compliment. When they finally got around to the matter at hand, Buckner was unsure just how many men he had. Perhaps 12,000 to 15,000. Some of the larger number were, no doubt, lying dead and frozen on the ground. Grant allowed for burial details to pass through Union lines. He also secured Union rations for the hungry Rebels, all 14,623 of them.

In a meeting held later in the day to pound out the minute details, Buckner asked that his men be allowed to write home and to be put aboard transport vessels post-haste, as the cold weather would be sure to take many lives. Grant wasn’t sure what he could do about that, as the task of accepting the surrender of 15,000 men had never been done before on this continent. He would, of course, do what he could.

As the meeting drew to a close, Grant pulled Buckner aside and offered his purse to repay the loan. Buckner demurred, but was touched by the friendly gesture.

To end the day, Grant sent two brigades under General Lew Wallace back to Fort Henry, just in case the Rebels at Columbus got any funny ideas. He also ordered his men into Fort Donelson, warning against looting and pillaging, though his words were blatantly ignored.

Along with the Rebel prisoners, Grant had accepted the surrender of 20,000 stand of arms, forty-eight pieces of field artillery, seventeen heavy guns, several thousand horses and various other supplies. It all came with a high price, however. Of his 27,000, Grant lost 507 killed, 1,976 wounded and 208 missing. The Rebels lost 327 killed and 1,127 wounded.

The fall of Forts Henry and Donelson meant more to the Confederacy than the loss of two river outposts. The center of the line that stretched from Cumberland Gap in the east to the Mississippi River in the west was broken. The Rebels had already abandoned Bowling Green, falling back to Nashville. General Floyd’s command, as well as Forrest’s, would soon join them. From there, General Albert Sidney Johnston would have to decide where his Army of Mississippi would make their stand.

The scream that cut through the cold, half light of dawn was horrifying and almost phantasmal. Confederate General John Floyd, commanding the troops at Fort Donelson, Tennessee, had decided to mass his troops and break General Grant’s siege of the fort. First, the dismounted Rebel cavalry, under Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest, exchanged shots with stiff pickets on the Confederate right, as the first Rebel brigades under General Pillow did their best to form into line.

It was hoped that a pre-dawn attack would catch the Union troops by surprise, rousing them out of their tents. But they had no tents and the gnawing cold of February kept them awake, some even in line of battle. The heavy skirmish fire, however, alerted the Union that something more than skirmishing was about to begin.

It wasn’t until 7am, nearly two hours after whatever passed for dawn on this gloomy, opaque morning, that the Rebels finally pushed forward in a heavy sweep, artillery exploding across the frozen, rough terrain. But when they came, they came with a shriek, a howling, growling wail that chilled spines, even through the rawness of winter.

Brigade after Rebel brigade hit the Union right, commanded by General McClernand. They attacked all along the Wynn’s Ferry Road, the road that would take the Rebels, free of Grant’s siege, all the way to Nashville. Though it wasn’t exactly a last minute surprise, they were hardly ready for what seemed like the entire Confederate army. McClernand’s division, outnumbered and outflanked, began to melt away.

As he saw this happening, McClernand sent a messenger to Grant and General Lew Wallace, holding a newly-formed division in the center of the Union line. Grant, however, had gone to confer with Commodore Foote of the Navy, at a landing on the Cumberland River, seven miles away. General Wallace had heard the firing, but figured that McClernand was disobeying orders again and starting up a bit of a scrap with the Rebels.

When Wallace received the messenger, he first sent word to Grant’s headquarters and then decided to send a brigade to McClernand, hoping to halt the Confederate escape attempt. When the reinforcements arrived, however, McClernand chose not to use them, placing the new arrivals in reserve. When he finally fed them in, it was too late. His line was flanked and they too fell back with it.

Holding the Confederate right and center was General Buckner’s division. He was to make his attack after Pillow’s succeeded. As Pillow’s assault had more than carried the Union position, Buckner advanced, though very slowly. Buckner’s delay began the end of the Confederate attack.

All was not, however, well, from either the Union or Confederate perspective. Pillow’s assault had shattered the Union right, opening an escape route all the way to Nashville. Many of the Federal troops were out of ammunition and reinforcements seemed slow in coming. Though things might have looked brighter from the Rebel side of the trench, the attack which started as a single, mass movement, had devolved into brigade and regiment level fights. The battle was actually many large and bloody battles wrapped up in one.

The silver lining, however, was clad in blue. This delay gave General McClernand time to shift troops to meet Buckner’s slugging attack. The reinforcements came from General Wallis’ Division. They stopped dead Buckner’s men, who had, until now, picked up their pace. Wallace fired into the Rebel throng as it tried to form some vague line of battle. After a half hour of all the Union lead they could stomach, the Rebels on Wallace’s front fell back, but still held tight to Wynn’s Ferry Road.

Buckner’s advance was merely an action meant to hold the Union left in place while Pillow’s men broke through. And while Pillow’s men broke through and Buckner’s men held the Union left in place, something wasn’t quite right. In their planning for this attack, the Confederate officers never agreed upon what to do once the Union line was broken. Were they to pull out of Donelson right away, or were they to go back to the trenches and leave a bit later?

Feeling that the day was won, Pillow ordered a general withdraw to the trenches. It was his opinion that they were to break the Union line, return to the fortifications, resupply and then head to Nashville. Buckner was livid and when he saw General Floyd, overall commander, he let him know. Floyd wanted to hold Buckner on Wynn’s Ferry Road for the rest of the day and through the night, as his Rebel army made good their flight.

Floyd rode off to find Pillow to see what was going on. When he was found, Floyd chewed into him, demanding to know why he was giving up Wynn’s Ferry Road. Somehow or another, the old politician, Gideon Pillow, convinced a fellow politician, John B. Floyd, that the army needed to return to its trenches, regroup, resupply and … then what? Retreat? Fight again? Had Pillow’s hubris been so infectious that Floyd now believed they could beat Grant, or at least hold him off until reinforcements arrived?

More than likely, Pillow sold it to Floyd by convincing him that the fighting had secured them a free pass whenever they liked it.

As the lull dragged on and as the Rebels across the line began to withdraw to their trenches, General Grant returned to the field. Taking in the situation, he could see that the Rebel wave had crested and that Floyd had ordered a withdraw. Probably Grant believed that they were about to escape. He first ordered Generals Wallace and McClernand to retake their former positions on the Wynn’s Ferry Road. Then, riding west, he ordered General C.F. Smith, “All has failed on our right—you must take Fort Donelson.”

While Wallace and McClernand hemmed and hawed, Smith got right to work with his fresh troops in the waning light of day. He made quick work of the trenches to his front, left empty, but for a few battalions of Rebels armed with double-barrel shotguns. As they moved on, the Rebels were just returning to their trenches. While they could hold their ground, Smith’s brigade could not move forward. The returning Confederates counterattacked several times, but could not dislodge them.

On the right, General Wallace took command of three brigades and pushed forward, retaking most of the ground lost in the morning, littered with the dead and the dying. Wallace, however, could go no farther. As Smith advanced nearer to the fort itself, Wallace and the Union right would have to be content in simply retaking their position.

Across the trenches, Confederate Generals Floyd, Pillow and Buckner were again meeting to decide the fate of their army.

General John B. Floyd's got a valentine card for you in his inside pocket.

Union reinforcements were arriving via the Cumberland River. Reports cautioned that 20,000 fresh troops had disembarked from transports north of the fort. If true, it meant that Grant had arrayed 40,000 at Donelson. In reality, only 6,000 additional Federals came on the transports.

Along with the transports came the Union flotilla, six gunboats, veterans of the taking of Fort Henry. They were ready to add a second fort to their claims. Union General Grant rode out to meet them, arriving at the landing, four miles north of the fort, at 9am. He met with Commodore Andrew Foote, commander of the flotilla, convincing him to make an attack.

Foote was less than enthusiastic about his orders. Fort Donelson, sitting on a bluff, was much more imposing than the sunken Fort Henry. Also, he had less firepower here than he did there. He now longed for the mortar boats he was before convinced would be useless. He ordered his fleet to ready themselves for mid-afternoon action.

Grant’s plan “was for the [infantry] troops to hold the enemy within his lines, while the gunboats should attack the water batteries at close quarters and silence his guns if possible.”

General Lew Wallace has got one too.

Wallace’s Division was placed in the center of his line, enabling his flanks to tighten their strangle upon the Rebel fortifications. With Grant at full strength, his numbers swelled to 25,000.

Thinking that they had actually swollen to 40,000, Floyd, Pillow and Buckner decided that it was hopeless to save the fort. They would break out and retire to Nashville. General Pillow commanded the Confederate left, facing south, opposite Union General McClernand’s Division. Buckner held the right, opposite Union General C.F. Smith. The plan was for Pillow to mass his troops and smash through McClernand, while Buckner’s Division followed, acting as a rear guard.

Timing was essential. They wanted to attack before Grant placed Wallace’s new Division. Throughout the morning and early afternoon, Pillow took a long time getting ready and placing his troops for the assault. The bitter cold, no doubt, played a factor. Around noon, Pillow himself rode to the head of the column. The time was now. A quiet had befallen the battlefield and the Federals suspected not a thing.

Except for one sharpshooter, it seems, the entire Union command knew nothing of Pillow’s planned assault. This sharpshooter spied General Pillow, decked out in garish attire, and took aim. He fired, and maybe it was the cold, his shivering, that made him miss his mark. The ball skipped Pillow and smashed into a nearby infantryman. “Our movement is discovered!” Pillow quickly realized. He sent word to General Floyd, who flew into a fit of rage.

The opportunity was gone. And if anyone in the earthen fort looked north around 2:30pm, they would have seen Union Commodore Foote’s six gunboats fighting their way upstream, soon ready to reduce Fort Donelson.

In no more than thirty minutes, the firing became thick. At first, with a mile separating them, the fort and the leading ironclad exchanged fire. This was little more than experimentation, trying to find the range as Foote steamed ever closer. But as the flotilla edged closer to the fort, their fire became wild, overshooting the works completely.

An hour into the fight, Foote was still too close. He made quite a racket, however, and caused General Floyd to wire General Albert Sidney Johnston, department commander, that the fort could not hold out much longer. But the seven Rebel guns of Fort Donelson made their mark. One by one, the Union ships were crippled.

The St. Louis, Foote’s flagship, was hit fifty-nine times, with one in the pilothouse, disabling her. The Louisville‘s tiller ropes were shot away. Both ships drifted back downstream, out of the fight. The Pittsburg had been hit hard and was in danger of sinking.

Of the ironclads, this left only the Carondelet. One of her rifled guns had burst, leaving her with only two pieces. She was hit by thirty-five of the enemy’s shot and one from a Union vessel. The 8-inch shell burst astern and sent shrapnel into the casemate.

It was all ended for her when a Rebel shot lodged in her wheelhouse, jamming the wheel. As an added insult, as the Carondelet drifted downstream, she was struck by the Pittsburg, which took out her starboard rudder iron. She then joined the other ships of the flotilla, coasting back downstream.

Dusk was turning to dark as Confederate Generals Floyd and Pillow rode towards the batteries to offer their thanks and congratulations. The Rebels lost only one man during Foote’s barrage. Foote, on the other hand, had lost dearly.

All four of his ironclads were disabled. Eleven sailors had been killed, and forty wounded, including Foote himself. Grant now realized that taking Fort Donelson was not the same as taking Fort Henry. To his wife, he confided that the work before him “bids fair to be a long job.”

For Confederate Generals Floyd, Pillow and Buckner, the breakout attack, which failed on this day, was planned for the next. At 5am, Pillow would again line up his men and make an assault, rolling up Grant’s right flank, as Buckner continued the move, pinning the Federals north of Donelson, against the river. What wasn’t decided, however, was what to do after the breakthrough. Were they to move to Nashville immediately? Return to their trenches? It was as if they expected the plan to fail and just didn’t bother finalizing an endgame. With only the very immediate future in their thoughts, the three generals went about the work of preparing an army for a dawn attack.

Possibly the most inaccurate rendering of General Grant ever.

He asked the Carondelet‘s Captain Henry Walke to create a diversion with his gunboats at 10am in order for the infantry to advance upon the fort. What Grant didn’t know, however, was that the Carondelet was the only gunboat at Fort Donelson. Though alone, Captain Walke moved into position to bombard the fort and began to lob what would be 139 shells into Fort Donelson. The Rebels replied almost immediately.

Before the bombardment began, Confederate General John B. Floyd arrived and took command of the entire Confederate force, bringing with him the rest of his brigade, and bringing his army to a figure that nearly equaled Grant’s 15,000. As the shells from the Carondelet began to fall, Floyd heard musket fire from the trenches surrounding the fort.

Grant, no doubt, also heard the firing, but probably understood that it was frivolous skirmish fire, as he had ordered both McClernand and Smith not to bring on a general engagement.

General C.F. Smith was the first to ignore the order, deciding, after a hearty breakfast, to silence the Rebel artillery to his front. He ordered two brigades to attack General Buckner’s lines on the Confederate right. It was the terrain, the thick underbrush and the enemy’s abatis that stalled the attack.

While the brigade on the right was tangled, the brigade on the left crested a hill before Buckner’s lines, fixed bayonets and attempted to charge. Before long, both brigades had to untangle their way back to their lines while dodging Rebel balls.

Along General McClernand’s line, the Rebels shot first. Artillery fire preceded an hour and a half long sharpshooter attack, both of which McClernand tolerated without returning a shot. Eventually, McClernand replied with his own artillery, which made quick work of the Rebel guns, before turning on the enemy’s infantry. When the Union guns pulled out, the Rebel artillery began again.

Seeing the Confederate line to his front in a bit of confusion, and hoping to silence the enemy guns for good, McClernand tossed Grant’s orders to the wind and prepared to attack. He assembled a makeshift brigade by pulling regiments from two nearby brigades. With skirmishers thrown to the front, McClernand’s men advanced towards the Rebel battery.

As soon as they stepped out into a relative clearing, they were caught in an artillery crossfire that they had no choice but to tolerate. McClernand fed in another regiment and the assault was again attempted. Like Smith’s, however, it was quickly over and gained nothing for the Union.

In his report, Grant said little of the two repulsed attacks, dismissing them as “skirmishing all day.” He had expected more gunboats and more reinforcements via the Cumberland River. Neither arrived in time.

Meanwhile, in St. Louis, Grant’s superior, General Henry Halleck, had received rumors that the Rebels under General Leonidus Polk in Columbus were making plans to recapture Fort Henry, held by a scant force under General Lew Wallace. Halleck again asked General Don Carlos Buell, commander of the Department of the Cumberland, to create a diversion at Bowling Green, hoping to keep the Rebels there from reinforcing their friends at Donelson. It was too late, however, as most of Bowling Green was already inside Fort Donelson.

As the attacks faltered and both sides settled into their respective lines, a cold, biting rain fell. As the temperatures dropped, it turned to sleet and then snow. While some of the Rebels had the relative warmth of their fires and overcoats, the Union soldiers had neither. Fires would only draw shots from enemy sharpshooters, and, following Grant’s order, they had left their blankets and overcoats back at Fort Henry. It would be a long, long night.

Union Victory Narrowly Averted in New Mexico

The cold in Tennessee was felt also in New Mexico, where Confederate General Henry Sibley was pushing north towards Union Col. Edward Canby at Fort Craig. Before the Rebels even started their advance from Fort Thorn, eighty miles down the Rio Grande from Craig, Canby knew of their coming. Throughout the week, he had ordered detachments to scout Sibley’s Confederates as they moved north.

On this date, he sent a company each of Regulars and Colorado Volunteers to reconnoiter south along the Rio Grande. After marching two hours, they stumbled upon some Texans.

Ahead of Sibley’s column were the 5th Texas Mounted Volunteers, who had picked their way to within ten or so miles of Fort Craig, where they made camp for the evening. About an hour had passed before Confederate pickets burst into camp to inform their comrades that Union troops were moving on their position.

The Texans quickly mounted up and rode north to meet them. Four miles north of their camp, they found the Regulars and Colorado troops drawn up for battle. The Rebels soon did the same. As both sides stared at each other across a short ravine, the Union troops sent a messenger back to Col. Canby at Fort Craig.

Canby immediately snapped into action, calling his entire force of 3,000 to arms, ready to march them south to whip the Texans. This call to arms apparently drew the Regulars and Colorado troops back to the fort as well. The Rebels held their ground as the Federals before them fell back, and as the Federals in the fort prepared for battle.

Figuring that no attack was to be made, the Rebels returned to their camp. Oddly enough, with the Texans gone, Canby assumed that they were about to attack him. He quickly recalled his column descending upon the Rebel position. By 11pm, they returned to Fort Craig, a battle, and nearly certain Union victory, narrowly averted.