The enemy massing against the left—Our successful stand—Retreat and our successive positions therein—We form the left of Prentiss—His gallant conduct and capture—Capture of Major Stone—He and Prentiss vindicated—Scene on the bluff—Night and Buell—The cannonade—The night.

Our triumph was but the beginning of disaster. From our position we could see the enemy preparing a storm which was to sweep us from the field. Regiment after regiment of his infantry filed along our front beyond the field, and took position in front of Colonel Stuart's brigade, which formed the extreme left of the line. Once or twice his cavalry formed as if to charge us, and then disappeared. This was probably an attempt to mask the movements of his other troops. It did not succeed. We watched with harrowing expectations this masking of his battalions on our left. We noticed, too, that toward the right the firing had grown feeble and irregular. This told us that the enemy was withdrawing troops from the right and concentrating them against this part of the line, which was all that remained unbroken. In the meantime would we be reinforced? We could hardly expect it; for we knew that our other troops were broken and that there were no reserves. Turning to ourselves we saw that we had already suffered heavily. Our remaining guns were well nigh disabled, and much of our infantry was hors de combat. And yet we saw that our only resource was our own strength and courage. Everything seemed now at stake and depending upon us,—life, honor, the salvation of the army and perhaps the success of our cause. We looked the crisis in the face, and every soldier seemed to resolve to meet it like a man. Most of the 1st Brigade had been moved to the left to support the expected point of attack. General Hurlbut was there to command the men in person, and to inspire them by his brave example as he had already done. Half of our regiment was moved to the left, but was not taken beyond the end of the field.

At half past three o'clock, the enemy's infantry in a column of several lines moved to the attack. From our position we could see the immense mass sweeping through the half open woods. The spectacle charmed even the dread it occasioned. At the same time his artillery, strengthened by the arrival of additional batteries, began to fire with greatly increased vigor, and his infantry renewed the battle on the right of the field. Everywhere around us the storm began to rage; shot, shell, grape, canister came howling and whistling through our lines. The very trees seemed to protest against it. Missiles flew everywhere. Lying on our faces we could not escape them. Our artillery, the 2d Michigan battery, replied feebly but bravely. Their horses were shot down and their men swept from their guns. We could not but admire the heroic conduct of these men, and shudder to see them fall. When we saw them go down before those terrible vollies, horses, riders and gunners thrown upon each other, we forgot all feelings but pity, thick as was the danger around us. Their battery was finally disabled and compelled to withdraw into the woods. It is impossible to depict this hour of conflict. All the noises of battle commingled rose in a bewildering roar, and above all we could hear the cries of the combatants as they joined, and the shouts of multitudes, announcing a successful or an unsuccessful charge; for we knew not whether these voices were of friends or foes. It was a swift, anxious hour.

By four o'clock, the left was flanked and turned. Regiment after regiment was successively broken from extreme left to right. An enfilading battery opened upon us with canister. Their cartridges exhausted in opposing the flanking fire, and mowed down by the enfilading canister, our troops began to retreat in disorder through the woods. General Hurlbut rode up to Major Stone, and said in a calm, low tone, "I look to the 3d Iowa to retrieve the fortunes of this field." Those who heard those memorable words will never forget how the general looked then—a calm example of heroism amid those thickening disasters. It was an occasion which called forth the highest qualities of our natures, and told us who were men. Before us the enemy's dead strewed thickly over the field, showed us what discipline and courage could do. Above us the hissing and screaming of missiles; around us the roar of battle rising louder and louder; assailed in front and flank; the enemy to the left crowding our fugitive troops and pressing furiously on our rear; the troops to our right swept back; we beheld ourselves the left and the front of the army—all of those five divisions that remained unshaken; and we had heard the words of the General committing the fortunes of the day to us. I would not write boastingly of my own regiment, nor in the least disparage the conduct of the gallant men who had fought on other parts of the field. That we still held this position was owing not more to the fact that it had proven unassailable to the enemy's infantry, than to the heroic conduct of the troops who had fought immediately on our right and left. I do not on this account claim for my comrades a degree of courage which others did not possess. I merely state the fact, and challenge the successful contradiction of those who have claimed the same honor for other regiments, that the 3d Iowa was the last regiment of the front line to retreat from the position it first occupied.

Such was the situation around us at half past four in the afternoon. Major Stone resolved not to disappoint the General, but to hold the position at whatever hazard. Our line was withdrawn for better protection a few rods from the fence. A part of the 2d Michigan Battery, commanded by the gallant Lieutenant ——, was yet with us. We were assailed by a concentrated fire of artillery,—a direct fire from the front, a cross fire from the right, and an enfilading fire from the left. General Hurlbut again rode up, explained to Major Stone the situation, that his right was driven back and his left broken, that it was the enemy's fault that our regiment was not captured, and ordered the Major to take us to the rear. We moved back about three hundred yards and again faced toward the enemy. Here we came in contact with the enemy's infantry, pressing confusedly on after the fugitive troops behind our left. We availed ourselves of every shelter the ground afforded without breaking our line, and engaged him at close range. We were yet almost equal to a fresh regiment. He had not expected to meet such resistance. The buckshot from our smoothbore muskets flew too thickly for him, and he recoiled in astonishment. For a few moments the field was clear. Looking forward to our old position, we beheld the enemy's hated flag floating above the house behind which we had rested most of the day. Meanwhile we replenished our cartridge-boxes with ammunition, which had been previously brought up from the rear.

The enemy again advanced upon us. This regiment was the 22d Alabama. We received it as we had done the others, at close range. They raised their demoniac yell and pressed on at a charging step. They came so near that our officers used their revolvers against them. But like the others, they recoiled and retreated before our thick fire, leaving us masters of the ground. The enemy subsequently acknowledged that our range was here most perfect, and that this regiment was well nigh destroyed in this attempt, and did not again participate in the action either day.

But masses of troops now crowding past our right, forced us to another retreat. We fell back about three hundred yards and again faced toward the enemy, and re-formed our line. Major Stone, in the absence of senior officers, had been for some time gallantly fighting his own battle. General Prentiss was now to our right with five regiments of Smith's division, endeavoring to hold the enemy in check. He rode up to the Major and explained to him what he was trying to do—to hold the enemy in check, if possible, till the army could again form in the rear, or till night should put an end to the battle. He asked the Major to assist him, and that our regiment should become his left. The Major readily assented, and agreed to obey his orders.

Here, then, if the spectacle of the field was appalling, it was sublime. Six regiments disputing the field with the enemy's army, and delaying his expected triumph. He crowded furiously on, assailing us in front and flank, his soldiers howling with mingled exultation and rage, their voices rising even above the din of battle. He no longer came in lines nor in columns, but in confused masses, broken in pursuit as our army had been in retreat. His missiles swept the field in all directions. Our dead fell thickly. Our wounded streamed to the rear. We no longer had lines of battle, but fought in squads and clusters. The settling smoke obscured the vision. Comrades knew not who stood or fell. All was confusion and chaos around us.

A mass of the enemy broke the regiment on our right and separated us from Prentiss. We were again compelled to retreat. We fell back in disorder, keeping up a brisk fire upon the enemy, who pressed on. The Major before ordering the retreat had determined to make another stand in front of our regimental camp, and make his command a nucleus on which the broken troops of Prentiss might rally. Reaching this position, he sent Adjutant Sessions to form the left, while he in person undertook to form the right. The right was partially sheltered by a hollow; the left was on high ground and completely exposed. From the latter point we for the moment discerned the battle around us. To our right and rear as far as the eye could reach, through the woods and over the fields—at least a mile, our line of battle in full retreat,—infantry, artillery, wagons, ambulances, all rushing to the rear—a scene of confusion and dismay—an army degenerating into a rout. In front of us, partly obscured in smoke, the enemy's assailing infantry, while to our left and rear his multitudes were pouring through the camp of the 41st Illinois, and hurrying to cut off our retreat. In a few moments he would be full in our rear. It was no time to hesitate now. We must run the gauntlet he had prepared for us or be captured. We preferred to take the chances and run. The left wing gave way and ran in disorder through our camp. Passing through it, we saw to our late left, masses of the enemy very near, firing rapidly and rushing towards us with frantic yells. On the other side, led by a regiment well aligned, he was directing himself so as to cut off our retreat. Between these two fires we were completely exposed and suffered our greatest loss. At no time had we been exposed to so thick a fire. More of our men fell within the lines of our own regimental camp than anywhere else upon the field. Major Stone, retreating last with the right wing, crossed the open space between our camp and drill ground, and coming again into the woods, ran full against a rebel regiment, and with a few men was captured. With the exception of those who fell, the rest of our regiment escaped.

Soon after, General Prentiss retreating with the remainder of his troops, came upon our camp ground, and looking forward, saw the gap closed through which he had hoped to escape. Exposed to a concentrated fire from all sides, his regiments completely broken, there was no alternative but to surrender. The officer who received the surrender of Major Stone, a major of a Tennessee regiment, received also that of Gen. Prentiss. The regiments captured here were the 8th, 12th, and 14th Iowa, and the 58th Illinois.

The capture of General Prentiss affords a most striking example of the reward the most meritorious conduct may sometimes receive at the hands of public opinion. Because he held the field with a handful of troops, regardless of the number against him, and finally retreated, not to escape danger, but, when he saw the enemy surrounding him, to escape capture;—because he was thus willing to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to hold the enemy in check and save the army, the imputation of cowardice was cast upon him and the brave men who were captured with him. His fault consisted alone in not knowing when to retreat; theirs in obeying their general too well. The same imputation was cast upon Major Stone, and used against him in the late gubernatorial campaign in Iowa, by his political and personal enemies. It is vain to say that a man exhibited a lack of courage in a day of battle at its close, who, through all its storm from early in the morning, had fought so bravely and so well;—and this, too, because he was too tardy in retreat! But he has since triumphed gloriously at Vicksburg, and in the hearts of the people of Iowa.

I have always believed that this effort of General Prentiss delayed the enemy an hour, and prevented the capture of our army. It was about five o'clock when he surrendered. A mile behind him, and near the landing, the army was forming its last line of resistance. Toward this one point the retreat had converged from all parts of the field. Here the troops were crowded together in disorderly masses. Men were separated from their colors, and mixed in inextricable confusion. There were no longer any regiments, brigades or divisions. All was an immense mob—a great rout, halting because it could retreat no further. This was the grand army which yesterday surveyed itself so proudly! To-night it looked at itself and was appalled. The stoutest hearts sickened at the sight. Officers called upon their men to rally, but they did not heed them. Every one seemed to think that their commands did not apply to him. Men looked blankly into each other's countenances, and read only their own dismay. But the delay of the enemy gave time for reflection, and they began to realize their situation. Behind them was an impassable river staying their retreat. To plunge into it was ignominious death. Before was a victorious foe, coming relentlessly on. To face towards him and fight was, at least, to die with honor. Many began to be seized with this heroic resolution.

During the day, Captain Madison had with great difficulty succeeded in getting four of his siege guns into position on the bluffs. The remnants of the broken regiments had halted and planted their colors near them. Stragglers came up and joined them, and by degrees a line of battle grew and extended itself to the right. Under the direction of Colonel Webster, chief of staff to General Grant, about thirty pieces of cannon were got into position along this line and opened upon the enemy.

For some time we had noticed on the opposite side of the river a signal flag and a battalion of cavalry. We heard a band of music playing martial airs. A strange general was also seen riding with Grant. It was he!—It was Buell! The news spread and was rumored everywhere. "Take courage," our officers said. "We will hold them till night; to-morrow Buell's army will be on the field, and we will easily defeat them." Nevertheless, we had the gloomiest doubts. Would his troops be here in time? It was an unheard-of thing in this war for our generals to be in time to support each other. We were divided between hopes and doubts, until Ammon's brigade of Nelson's division marched up the hill.

But we were astonished beyond measure at the enemy. When there was no longer anything to oppose him, he had halted. He had delayed an hour when perseverance alone was necessary to make his victory complete. When he could have seized the great prize almost without effort, he declined to take it. He, too, hesitated at the turning point of his destiny. It was his fatality and our salvation. But we did not fully understand his situation. His troops had suffered terribly, as the assailing party always does when the assailed fight bravely. They had been broken in the pursuit well nigh as badly as we in the rout. Many of his men had straggled from their colors and begun to plunder our camps. Besides, General Prentiss had assured him that we had fortifications near the river. These circumstances decided him to re-form his lines before making the final assault. Before he could accomplish this, night began to close upon the scene.

Nevertheless, his right wing was thrown forward to the river, and moved down against us. But its advance was obstructed by an almost impassable ravine, at which point the gunboats Tyler and Lexington attacked it vigorously. At the same time Ammon confronted him with his full battalions; and beyond him, behind our now blazing batteries, a long blue line of infantry extended. The enemy halted and limited himself to keeping up a furious cannonade. As if out of respect to our brave men in front, his missiles almost invariably passed over their heads and fell among the disgraceful stragglers in the rear.

Here the scene was humiliating in the extreme. On the bottom below the landing and in the ravines leading to it, were thousands of stragglers belonging mostly to the regiments broken in the morning, whom no efforts were available to rally. The enemy's shells burst thick and fast among them. The transports not engaged in crossing Buell's troops were compelled to anchor in the stream or tie to the opposite bank, to prevent being loaded down by them and sunk. Some plunged into the stream and were drowned, endeavoring to swim across. Others swam the bayou which puts into the river below the landing, and hid themselves in the woods beyond it.

A furious artillery duel, our gunboats and siege guns joining with their hoarser voices, was kept up until night cast its welcome shadows over the scene of horror. The moon rose and threw a ghastly light upon the field. The roar of battle gave place to the dull sounds of moving multitudes in front, and to the noise of transports crossing and recrossing continually in the rear, save, when at intervals from one of the gunboats, a jar of cannon, the noise of a flying projectile, and far to the front, the crack of an exploding shell, announced to the enemy that we were not yet wholly his.