Battle of Belmont: Eyewitness Account by B. F. Sawyer

The Battle of Belmont (November 7, 1861) was a clash during the American Civil War in Mississippi County, Missouri. It was the first combat command of Union Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant and the first battle experience for most of the men under his command. The same was true for Confederate soldiers fighting under Major General Leonidas Polk and Brigadier General Gideon J. Pillow. The battle is considered inconclusive because Grant failed to dislodge the Confederate position…

The Battle of Belmont (November 7, 1861) was an engagement during the American Civil War in Mississippi County, Missouri. This is the first combat command of Union Brigadier Ulysses S. Grant was in the war and the first combat experience of most of the men under his command. The same was true of Confederate soldiers fighting under Major General Leonidas Polk and Brigadier General Gideon J. Pillow.

The battle is considered inconclusive, as Grant was unable to capture and hold the Confederate position he attacked, and the forces under Pillow were unable to capture Grant and his forces. The Confederates claimed it as a victory as the Union army fled the field in defeat.

Grant also claimed victory because he had accomplished two of his goals: destroying the Confederate camp below Columbus, Kentucky, and scaring Polk into keeping his forces near the city instead of fortifying other positions. Grant's claim carries more weight.

After the battle, fearing that Belmont would be Grant's first attempt to capture Columbus, Polk refused to send reinforcements elsewhere and helped center General Albert Sidney Johnston's weak line at Forts Henry and Donelson.

This then contributed to the Union victories under Grant at the Battle of Fort Henry (February 6, 1862) and the Battle of Fort Nelson (February 11-16, 1862), which opened the Tennessee River and the Cumberland River to Union traffic, leading to the collapse of Confederate industry, centered in Nashville, and Polk's retreat from Columbus. From this perspective, the Battle of Belmont was, in fact, a Union victory, even if it did not seem so in early November 1861.

One of the Confederate defenders at Belmont was Private Benjamin Franklin Sawyer (1901-1833), who had enlisted at his own expense in June 1861 to raise and equip Company K, Tenth Alabama. Sawyer fought from Belmont during the war, leaving the service in 1865 as a lieutenant colonel.

Sawyer's account of the Battle of Belmont is presented from the point of view of a Confederate private.

After the war, he served as mayor of the town of Oksana in Anniston, Alabama, and became a writer and journalist, contributing to several newspapers, including the Philadelphia Weekly Times. In 1879, he built a machine built by Margaret E. Knight (patented in 1871) invented a square bottom paper bag and died after an illness on July 19, 1901.

Like many of his contemporaries who fought in the American Civil War, Sawyer wrote about his combat experiences, publishing his account of the Battle of Belmont in 1884, which has since become an important primary source on the conflict—notably because the narrative is presented from the perspective of a Confederate soldier.

The following excerpt is taken from The New Annals of the Civil War, edited by Peter Cozzens and Robert I. Gerardi, pp. 18-24. The original article, The Battle of Belmont, by Colonel Benjamin Franklin Sawyer, was first published in the Philadelphia Weekly Times, August 9, 1884.

Sawyer dates the engagement as November 6th—when Grant left Cairo, Illinois in his boats and arrived near Belmont, Missouri—the battle began on the morning of the 7th.

In the battles that followed in such rapid succession, electrified the continent and astonished the world, the comparatively insignificant battle of Belmont was forgotten. In the list of more powerful events, it can hardly be counted in the list of battles. Only to those who were involved, the novices who took part in the battle that day, its scenes were remembered as long as life lasts.

About ten thousand men faced danger and death for the first time. For the first time they realized the terrible work they had devoted their lives to. It is unlikely that one of those who are so involved will forget the experience of that day.

In itself, so far as any material result was achieved, the battle was almost a sham, a tactical exercise staged by opposing generals to test the efficiency and composition of their forces. Maybe it was this; It seems difficult now, as then, try as one might, to imagine another reason why it should have been fought.

No strategy was displayed by either general. There was no chance for either. This [Brigadier General Ulysses S.] Grant should have known, for he had landed under a flag of truce a few days before, and had considered the possibilities.

A position that cannot be defended, why sacrifice a man's life to capture it? It was certainly not the only possible harm that could be done for the triumph of capturing a few wandering tents that he descended in all the glory of war, beating drums and hoisting banners, to risk the lives of the war dead. The game was hardly worth the candle.

But perhaps Grant thought better of it. He may have placed a higher value on canvas and reed than on profligate confederates. Doubtless he did, and as he stood on the deck of the little savage tug (Grampus) which had brought him into the Confederate lines a few days before... he might, inspired by his genius, have made a brilliant strategic movement by which the destruction of the tents might have been checked.

At any rate, he came in a battle array, with fanfare and flourish, placed his gallant soldiers in the heart of the battle, held them there for some time, and then, with complete abandonment of discipline, returned to his gun-boats, and left his dead to be buried, wounded to be cared for by his enemy.

[Major General Leonidas] Polk's corps, which then constituted the Army of the Mississippi, occupied the strong position of Columbus, Kentucky. Its natural strengths are enhanced by a series of skillfully designed and well-built forts linked by a triple line of earth.

The beetle bluffs, overlooking the city below, the river, and the Belmont plains opposite, were covered with heavy batteries, while a row of box guns below exposed every foot of water, and made approach to the water impossible.

The camp, which so temptingly invited the attack of the enemy, was occupied by General Pillow's brigade.... It was against this camp, guarded by the formidable batteries of Columbus, that Grant, then a newly arrived brigadier-general, threw his eager troops.

It was a bitterly frosty morning in November (6th). We were still strengthening our works and building quarters for the coming winter when he came.

Our regiment (Blythe Mississippi) was on fatigue duty when we met the comrades of the 154th Senior Tennessee, who rushed in and gave us the first warning of imminent danger. I happened to be in command of the fatigue party that day, and without waiting for orders, I almost met my command and returned to camp, that too at double speed.

We were on our way but shortly before the confirming courier met us with the news and ordered me to hurry back to the quarters and prepare for battle.

On reaching the camp, a wild scene of excitement and confusion was presented. The officers, in new and strange confusion, hurried to and fro, their swords dangling awkwardly between their legs. Men hunting for broken gear and long-neglected rifles. Ordnance officers distribute ammunition in confusion, issuing Enfield cartridges for rifles, balls and pellets for rifles.

As we know, at that early stage of the engagement, our regiment, like many others, was armed with many different types of weapons, no two companies were armed alike - one company, A, with Sharpe rifles, another company, C, armed with double-barreled rifles, and the other company, myself, my company, with .32 long rifles. He took the army rifles.

To provide for the various needs of the regiment, a general himself puzzled over the ammunition in an hour of cold consultation. No wonder, then, that poor Lieutenant Brownrigg, flushed with the surprise of his first fight, lost his head in maddened confusion, and surrendered the ammunition in reckless disregard of the service.

The company commanders, however, were not much daunted, and, by exchange of ideas, soon succeeded in providing the respective companies with suitable cartridges, and when the regiment was hastily formed for inspection, each man was provided with a sufficient quantity of ball and powder. Emergency, however, the morning's lesson was a valuable lesson, and as soon as possible care was taken to arm the regiment with guns of uniform calibre.

We had drawn up our ranks, and were leaning on our arms, nervously awaiting developments, when the loud boom of Belltower's guns, and the relentless rush of musketry across the river, showed that it was no false alarm that we were to meet. Soon, as the battle drew closer, the firing became faster and more distinct. By the change of direction of the fire we could tell that the pillow was heavily engaged and pressed, yet we remained idle and impatiently awaited the order to move into the fight.

There is almost no situation more nerve-wracking, especially for a rookie soldier, than to stand within sight and sound of a battle and wait your turn. We felt it keenly that morning, and as the first rush of excitement began to wear off, and the battle grew louder and closer, we could feel our courage draining from the ends of our fingers. But still we had to stand, and no orders were issued, but instead a rumor that the main Union army, under [Brigadier General Charles F.] Smith, was advancing from Paducah, and that the attack on the pillow was only a pretense to divert Polk's attention to that point.

At last, however, about noon, the pressure on Balash became too heavy to be sustained any longer... We started at double speed, and marched up the river, and in time advanced to the shore. To see Balash's battle-hardened troops broken in disorder, his battery captured and turned upon him, and his camps in a blaze of destruction.

It was not an encouraging sight to the beginners, but we had but little time to reflect upon it, for, considering our range, in the nearest column as we were going down, the captured Belltower guns were turned upon us, and we were filled with nameless dread. I cannot remember a more debilitating situation in my four years of combat experience. I shudder even now when I think about it.

Two transports, large side-wheel steamers, lay in the dock ready for us. On board one of these, the Prince, we hastily embarked, and passed over it in the face of fire, four strong shots having struck through the boat in transit, and carried away the cabin stairs, but luckily no other damage was done.

Company G, Captain Faulkner, with my own Company I, was crowded on deck in the storm, which elevated position, while exposing us to the unpleasant attention of the enemy, afforded us a comparative view of the field. This was a sad and discouraging sight that we saw.

The men of the pillow, sad and bloodied, utterly despondent, like a pack of hogs, which the dogs have buried in a corn-field, crouched beneath the sheltered bank of the river, its tents all aflame, and the happy enemy boldly daring us.

In a very short time, the landing was made and we quickly evacuated the ship. The troop gallantly tries to cheer us up by knocking up Dixie in line of battle as we land, and hastily loading, ready for action.

Brave Cheetham was there and ready to guide us. "Men, forward, and them to the devil!" It was his brief order and we moved forward.

Riding up to the bank we had formed under, and making an oblique movement to avoid the impenetrable brush of fallen timber, we struck the happy enemy on his right flank, and opened an unexpected fire.

At this moment, as if roused from the paralysis of fear, the heavy batteries on Columbus's bluff opened a good volley of shot and shell, causing death and consternation in the opposing ranks. It's amazing to see the magical transition from defeat to victory, from a deliberate bravery to a weakened cowardice. All men are vulnerable.

After the bravery of the gallant Illinois soldiers, who had fought so hard all morning, and had stood a moment before with a proud sense of victory, it is not an aberration that they should now stand for a moment in apparent surprise at our sudden charge, and then begin to give back—first slowly and orderly into disorder, and then again into flight. Arms were thrown away, bayonets, cartridge boxes, and even knapsacks, and all order was forgotten in the wild race for life.