The Solemn Realities of War: A Hoosier Greenhorn Sees the Elephant at Perryville
The opening moments of the Battle of Perryville were both exciting and frightening for 40-year-old Private Joseph Glezen of the 80th Indiana Infantry. The former attorney and newspaper editor had enlisted as a private in the ranks of Co. H only a month before, and now stood facing an advancing line of veteran Confederate infantry, and soon discovered a horrifying fact: his musket would not fire.
“At the
word fire, we all pulled trigger together and were directed to load and fire at
will. Many of our guns were defective, and when I rammed down my second
cartridge I discovered that my gun contained two loads. I reprimed, however,
and thought I would double the dose by firing two balls at once, but my gun
again refused to fire. I again retired down the hill, took off the tube, picked
the powder in the touch hole, primed, advance, and made the third attempt to
fire, but there was not sufficient power in the lock to burst the cap. I stood
and snapped four times but in vain. I then threw down my gun in disgust, picked
up another, tried it with the ramrod and found it like mine- containing two
loads. I picked up a second musket and it was in the same condition, a third
ditto, and the fourth had a load just about one foot from the muzzle. I then
concluded to get out of the way myself as I did not like to be a target for
traitors without at least an equal chance with them,” he wrote.
The 80th
Indiana had mustered into service September 5, 1862 at Camp Gibson in
Princeton, Indiana and three days later “with arms and uniforms and nothing
else” was sent to the defenses of Cincinnati. A few short weeks later, the regiment was sent
to Louisville where it was assigned to the 34th Brigade under
Colonel George J. Webster (98th Ohio) along with three other rookie
regiments: the 50th, 98th, and 121st Ohio
regiments, along with Captain Samuel Harris’ six-gun 19th Indiana
Battery. As part of General James S. Jackson’s division, Webster’s brigade was
shellacked at Perryville and Webster himself was killed, brigade losses
totaling 645 men.
Joseph Glezen would serve with the 80th Indiana for the remainder of the war, eventually gaining promotion to the rank of captain. His account of Perryville was first published in the January 17, 1863 edition of the Princeton Clarion-Ledger.
On the 8th
day of October, just one month from the day we left Camp Gibson, the Battle of
Chaplin Hills was fought. About 2 p.m., we arrived on the field at a point about
two miles from Perryville and were placed in support of Harris’ battery at the
extreme right of the left wing; General Lovell Rousseau commanding the right
and the James Jackson the left. We were in Jackson’s division. The position we
of the 80th Indiana occupied was in an open field. Harris’ battery
was 20 paces in front and a little to our right on the top of a ridge
descending considerably both to the front and rear. About 200 yards in front of
us was a piece of woodland where the enemy was concealed, and on another ridge
about 250 yards to our rear at the edge of a narrow strip of timber was a wagon
road running parallel with our line of battle. To the right of our front, being
in front of the extreme left of Rousseau’s division, there was a cornfield.
The following rough sketch, hastily
drawn, will give you a fair idea of our fighting ground and its immediate
vicinity. I do not attempt to draft it by an accurate scale for the line of
battle was four miles in length. The dotted Federal line is only intended to
exhibit an alignment; there were no Federal troops stationed between the 80th
Indiana and the corner of the cornfield.
Joseph P. Glezen's rough sketch showing the position of the 80th Indiana at Perryville |
As soon as we took our positions and
had loaded our muskets, we were ordered to lie down on our faces and wait for
the enemy to make their appearance in front of us. I suppose we remained in
this position half an hour and it was truly a serious time for we were then for
the first time with the most of us about to experience the solemn realties of
war.
Whilst we were thus listening to the
roaring of musketry and the thunder of artillery, the whistling of bullets above
us and the bursting of shells around us, the men lying at my right exclaiming, “Glezen,
isn’t this terrible?” I replied that it was really sublime. He said he was
unable to discover anything sublime about it. I remarked that it was both grand
and solemn, and that was what I meant by the term. Said he, “Don’t you wish you
had not enlisted?” To this I made no reply. A moment afterwards something
struck my hat with such violence as to mash it over my face, the inside edge of
the rim inflicting a scratch on my nose (a member of my body that is always in
the war of objects passing) so as to draw blood at the same time the man at my
right cried out “Glezen is killed!” I knew this to be a mistake, but turned to
look for the unwelcome intruder and found a six-pound cannon ball about two
feet from me on my left, having struck on the hill near the battery and
bounced, angling, and after striking my hat, mashed the head and killed Milton
Spraggins[1]
who was lying immediately to my left and finally lodged against the side and
arm of his brother Jesse was who still at his left. After having rolled the
ball down the hill with my left hand, not knowing but it might contain combustible
materials, my first impulse was to make a slight change in my position, but
then it occurred to my mind that lightning was never known to strike twice in
the same place, the same might be true in respect to cannon balls, so I
remained quiet.
Soon after this we were ordered to “rise
and fire.” Now came the tug of war for at this time the bullets were whistling
over us with such fury that it seemed as if no man could stand erect and live.
But at the word of command, we all bounded to our feet like so many parched
peas, determined to pour the contents of our muskets into the ranks of our
ungodly opposers. Before firing, it was necessary to advance about two rods to
the top of the hill in order to bring our arms to bear against the enemy. And
even then they kept so well concealed behind trees that only a few could be seen.
Notwithstanding this, our bullets found them in their hiding places and strewed
the ground with their mutilated carcasses, the legitimate fruits of their own
treason and folly.
As we advanced to give the first fire,
I did not quite relish the music of the bullets as they whistled around my ears
and I presume you will not disbelieve me when I say that I felt a little more
pleasant at home by the side of a coal oil lamp reading an account of the
battle in the columns of the Cincinnati Commercial. At the word fire, we
all pulled trigger together and were directed to load and fire at will. Many of
our guns were defective, and when I rammed down my second cartridge I
discovered that my gun contained two loads. I reprimed, however, and thought I
would double the dose by firing two balls at once, but my gun again refused to
fire. I again retired down the hill, took off the tube, picked the powder in
the touch hole, primed, advance, and made the third attempt to fire, but there
was not sufficient power in the lock to burst the cap. I stood and snapped four
times but in vain. I then threw down my gun in disgust, picked up another,
tried it with the ramrod and found it like mine- containing two loads. I picked
up a second musket and it was in the same condition, a third ditto, and the
fourth had a load just about one foot from the muzzle. I then concluded to get
out of the way myself as I did not like to be a target for traitors without at
least an equal chance with them. (Glezen’s brigade mates in the 121st
Ohio also had great difficulty with faulty muskets at Perryville, see here.)
Sergeant Enos H. Kirk Co. E, 80th Indiana Volunteer Infantry |
So I
went down about four rods and laid down behind a stump with a couple of wounded
men from my company and remained there for perhaps two minutes though it was a
poor place for a soldier. I got up to renew my search for a gun that would fire
and picked up two more near the stump with loads half way down the barrel. I
finally found a musket on the fighting ground of Co. C (Captain James L. Culbertson
commanding) that was empty, loaded her, and when I pulled the trigger the man
behind the gun felt it very sensibly though I cannot say what effect it had on
the man at the other end. On counting my cartridges after the battle I found
that I had discharged 15 rounds. This was far below an average for besides the
time I lost before I got hold of a gun that would fired, I was not so experienced
in the use of firearms. Some, after having exhausted their 40 rounds of cartridges,
replenished from the boxes of the killed and wounded.
The firing between the 80th
Indiana and the enemy in front was incessant and for near four hours, we
maintaining our ground all that time against a whole brigade of Rebels and
twice repulsed them when attempting to storm the battery. Finally the firing in
front of us subsided and the Rebels were seen passing through a cornfield
opposite the left of Rousseau’s division and to our right. The Federal line
gradually gave way before them but kept up a brisk fire as they receded. The enemy
were now within range of our muskets and a slight change of position enabled us
to pour a destructive fire into their ranks as they gradually advanced on the
retreating columns of General Rousseau. The 80th Indiana there
performed services that will never be known in history for it is reasonable to
suppose that all of the killed and wounded in front of Rousseau’s lines would
be claimed for him. By degrees, the right wing continued to give way and at the
same time about the same kind of operation was in progress at our left which
left us on a curve line, exposing us to a destructive crossfire.
Just at this crisis, when we were in
immediate danger of being surrounded, Harris’ battery drove past us to the rear
about as fast as artillery horses are in the habit of traveling, and Lieutenant
Colonel Lewis Brooks was ordered to fall
back and take a position at the road on the hill about 150 yards to our rear.
This was done in better order then I have sometimes witnessed at a bayonet charge
on battalion drill.
We there formed a line of battle and
gave the Rebels a few well-directed rounds, but owing to the continued falling back
of the Federal lines to our right and left, our position became untenable and
we were directed to fall back about 300 yards further where we again took our
position in support of Harris’ battery which had already commenced thundering
from its new position. Here a new line was established, but night soon came and
the firing gradually ceased and we lay on our arms until midnight. We then
removed to a point one mile to the rear on the Harrodsburg road where another
line of battle was formed on what was adjudged better ground for defensive
operations as we expected an attack in the morning. But the Rebels took
advantage of the shades of night to make good their retreat, leaving the
battlefield in our possession.
History may fail to render the
officers of the 80th Indiana due credit for their energy, coolness,
and courage in the memorable Battle of Chaplin Hills, but those who
participated in that bloody conflict will not fail to award them the credit due
them for their gallant conduct on that occasion. The young and intrepid Lieutenant
Colonel Brooks commanded the regiment, a regiment of raw, undisciplined troops
only one month from the peaceful avocations of civil life. Our flag received
seven bullet holes and we lost in killed and wounded 150 men. (Major Simonson reported losses as 24 killed, 117 wounded, and 33 missing out of the 450 men engaged in the fight. "Our casualties are grievous, indeed.")
Sources:
Diary of
Joseph P. Glezen, Co. H, 80th Indiana Volunteer Infantry, published
as “The Battle of Perryville: Abstract from the Diary of One Who Was There,” Princeton
Clarion-Ledger (Indiana), January 17, 1863, pg. 1
Letter from Major George Simonson, Princeton Clarion-Ledger (Indiana), October 25, 1862, pg. 1
[1] Corporal Milton
Spraggins of Winslow, Indiana would die of his wounds October 20, 1862 at
Perryville, Kentucky.
A wonderful story of a patriot fighting for his country
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