Item No. 9563012

In this important and incredibly fascinating 8-page autograph letter dated June 1, 1862, Brigadier General James W. Denver—namesake of the city of Denver, Colorado—writes to his wife a long and detailed personal account of his brigade’s role in the capture of the important rail hub of Corinth, Mississippi. “I have been to the mythical place called Corinth, the capture of which you have no doubt heard ere this,” he writes, “and so I will tell you how it happened.”

A pre-Civil War attorney and veteran of the Mexican War, Denver served as a US representative from California before becoming the territorial governor of Kansas and serving as the commissioner of Indian Affairs. He had been appointed a brigadier general by President Lincoln in 1861 and was transferred to the District of West Tennessee shortly after the army’s victory at the Battle of Shiloh in the spring of 1862. On May 16, in the middle of the federal army’s siege of Corinth. Denver had been appointed to command of a brigade of four Ohio regiments (48th, 53rd, 70th, & 72nd) in General William T. Sherman’s division. The very next day Denver led his buckeyes in a successful attack against a strong point in the Confederate line at Russell’s House. It is here on the extreme right of the Union army that Denver picks up the narrative. “There we fortified,” he writes, “throwing up in one night long lines of breastworks for the infantry and redoubts for the artillery.”

They remained in this position for a number of days. Denver writes that “Our pickets were almost constantly exchanging shots with those of the enemy in front,” until May 28, when Sherman ordered a new attack against a Confederate position where the rebels had converted a double log house into a blockhouse. While one brigade under General Morgan L. Smith would approach the position from the main road, Denver’s brigade would take a more direct overland route. He writes:

I advanced through the woods with my Brigade and one Battery of artillery until we came near the edge of a field lately cleared. This field is about three hundred yards wide and we had to cross it in the face of a strong force of the enemy. My men were kept back under cover of the woods (except the skirmishers who pushed forward to the fence), while the artillery formed in battery on the top of the hill a little back of the field. While the artillerymen were getting their pieces into position, one of them was struck by a pound ball when they immediately opened. For about fifteen minutes the firing was quite rapid. The artillerymen of this Battery are all Germans.

Though not identified by name in the letter, the battery is the Morton Battery (6th Indiana Battery) commanded by Captain Michael Mueller. The identity of the artilleryman struck by the “pound ball” is not clear. Denver continues:

By this time the enemy’s guns had been silenced and now came the tug of war. The field had to be crossed and we did not know what was on the other side. Rushing the skirmishers forward into the open field, with a cheer they rushed forward to the opposite woods, followed at no great distance by the main column. The Battery remained stationary until we got across, when they came forward and took up a new position in the woods near another field to the south. Our skirmishers crossed this field and occupied the opposite side, although the enemy showed a disposition to make a strong defense. This position was occupied in still greater force by the enemy and the key to it was a very good frame and log house with several out-houses. These we set on fire and burned to the ground.

The men then rested for a sort time. Denver writes that during this break, “one of our skirmishers came in and reported that he had heard a rebel officer making a speech to his men, exhorting them to be firm and determined, to drive the Yankees back, &c., who from the description is supposed to have been John C. Breckinridge,” former Vice President of the United States, who then commanded the Corinth defenders’ reserve corps. Then came the rebel counterattack:

In a little while the head of their column appeared over the hill, driving our skirmishers before them. They contested the ground, however, pretty well, but a cloud of skirmishers could do very little against a heavy column of infantry in mass, supported by cavalry and artillery. As soon as the enemy appeared over the hill our artillery opened on them, and you can judge of the rapidity of the firing when I tell you that our guns fired more than a hundred and fifty shots in less than three minutes. This was too much for the enemy and he was compelled to fall back.

Denver writes of the rebel artillery that, “Although the enemy’s firing was rapid, nearly all passed over our heads, fortunately for us, and did no damage except to the trees, some of which were cut off, and the top of one came near catching Lt. [Milton T.] Williamson (who is acting as my aide in place of Lt. Young, sick) under it as it fell. I lost only one man wounded besides the artilleryman already referred to.”

Consolidating their gains, Denver’s men then “went to work on the entrenchments” before finally resting. He reports that during the night picket firing “became so sharp that we formed line of battle expecting an attack.” But no attack came. In the morning they would find out why:

All except the pickets slept soundly until about daylight when we were startled by a series of extraordinary explosions in the direction of Corinth. I soon received orders to take two regiments, a battery, and some cavalry, and move forward. Taking a hasty breakfast, we crossed the field, halted the artillery and cavalry on the ridge, which crosses the field parallel to our position, formed the infantry in the edge of the woods, deployed the skirmishers, and pushed forward through thick timber and a dense growth of underbrush. Our pickets reported the enemy in force just in our front, and we waited with feverish anxiety for the skirmishers to engage them. Not a gun was fired, however, and putting the column in motion I hastened forward to see what was going on.

Advancing ahead with his staff, Denver “soon overtook the skirmishers and in a short time we discovered an opening in the timber in front approaching which we came in full view of the enemy’s fortifications.” They stopped to reconnoiter the enemy’s positions and were “fully expecting a salute from the enemy’s guns as soon as we should be discovered.” As the group pondered options, Captain Charles F. Clarke, who was a native-born Englishman serving on the general’s staff, “proposed to go alone and ascertain whether anybody was there.” Denver states that another staffer named Brodhead “had before made the same proposition when I told him not to be foolish.” What followed was a serious misinterpretation of Denver’s intent:

Without replying to Clarke, I expressed a wish to open communications with Gen. Smith on my left, and asked the Capt. if he would go. It seems that he being then on foot did not hear my remark and was thinking only of his own proposition. He answered that he would. I told him to take a mounted orderly with him, but he said he preferred going alone. I told him then to go along, when he mounted his horse, dashed out of the woods, across the road, and was far out in the field before I divined his real object.

Instead of making his way to Morgan Smith’s lines to open communications as Denver had intended, Clarke instead dashed toward the rebel fortifications on the mission Denver had dismissed as foolish. Yet on he rode toward a hidden danger:

About two hundred yards out in the field is a hollow, and the water had washed out a little ditch through it about a foot or eighteen inches deep, which was covered over with grass. His horse struck in this ditch and away they both went rolling over and over each other. They were up, however, in an instant and away they went full speed towards the much dreaded fortifications. There we stood in the most intense excitement. He approached the rifle pits. He is now in two hundred yards of them. Will the enemy fire on a single horseman, or let him approach and capture him? A hundred yards and yet no shot! In another instant he crosses the pits, turns, waves his arm for us to come on, and then makes a dash for the great bastion, some two hundred yards further on. With a cheer our men dashed forward on a run. But almost before they had got underway, the gallant Captain was waving his cap from the summit of the bastion itself. The works had all been deserted—the enemy had fled.

Denver adds that the fact that the works were abandoned did not detract “in any way from the gallant daring of Capt. Clarke’s act. From the point where we halted we could not tell that the works were deserted, and the act of riding up alone was very bold and daring.” In his official report on the action, published in the Official Records (Chapter XXII, p. 746), Denver praises Clarke’s gallantry in making his reconnoiter, but it’s unsurprising he makes no mention of his staffer’s misunderstanding.

Continuing his narrative, Denver “now felt satisfied of the character of the explosions we had heard. The enemy had blown up their magazines of ammunition and evacuated the town.” The race to Corinth was on:

We hurried on, hoping to be the first to enter the place. Gen. Smith had left our camp half an hour in advance of us, taking the main road. Still, we hoped to be able to pass him. Passing through the deserted camps of the enemy, covered over with the wreck of all such things as are used in camp life, we emerged into the main road only to find Smith’s Brigade just passing the junction. We had had our race for nothing, and so had to fall back in rear of the advancing column. As it was, we were the second in town. But what a sight! Nine tenths of the houses were deserted and nearly half the town was a smoldering heap of ruins from which the smoke and flames were bursting continually. Nearly every house in the town had been used as a storehouse or as a hospital for the Confederate army. The people had been nearly all driven away and their houses occupied. Those that contained stores were fired to prevent them falling into our hands, and of course the fire communicated to many others. The sick must have been numbered by tens of thousands. All the large houses were occupied as hospitals and even some of the groves in the neighborhood. Nearly everything that could not be carried away was destroyed.

As for the rebels, Denver writes that they:

went away over nearly all the roads, the last of them leaving not more than half an hour before we entered the town. Where they have gone, no one seems to know exactly, but the greater part seems undoubtedly to have gone to the west. It is doubtful whether they will ever be able to collect together such another army. Our victory was a bloodless one, but it is nonetheless valuable on that account. It was accomplished by steady perseverance and industry. Our men are deserving of all praise. The enemy dared us to meet them on their chosen ground and when we advanced they fled.

Denver’s signature appears at the bottom of the last page. He would continue to command his brigade into the early 1863, when he resigned his commission to return to the practice of law. Of his staff members, Lieutenant Williamson would survive the war, but the gallant Captain Clarke would die of disease that December.

The letter was written on eight pages of 7 3/4” x 9 3/4” letter sheets. Minor toning. Creased at the original mailing folds. Includes the original stamped cover with Cairo, Illinois, cancellation. The full transcript follows:

Camp No. 8, near Corinth, Miss.
June 1st 1862.

My Dear Wife,
I have been to the mythical place called Corinth, the capture of which you have no doubt heard ere this, and so I will tell you how it happened. I wrote you an account of our advance to Russell’s House. There we fortified, throwing up in one night long lines of breastworks for the infantry and redoubts for the artillery. My position was on the extreme right and thrown back at right angles with the front so as to protect the flank of the army. Our pickets were almost constantly exchanging shots with those of the enemy in front, and on the 28th ult. we were ordered to move forward and drive them from a new position we wished to occupy. Gen. Morgan L. Smith moved forward on the main road while I advanced through the woods with my Brigade and one Battery of artillery until we came near the edge of a field lately cleared. This field is about three hundred yards wide and we had to cross it in the face of a strong force of the enemy. My men were kept back under cover of the woods (except the skirmishers who pushed forward to the fence), while the artillery formed in battery on the top of the hill a little back of the field. While the artillerymen were getting their pieces into position, one of them was struck by a pound ball when they immediately opened. For about fifteen minutes the firing was quite rapid. The artillerymen of this Battery are all Germans.

By this time the enemy’s guns had been silenced and now came the tug of war. The field had to be crossed and we did not know what was on the other side. Rushing the skirmishers forward into the open field, with a cheer they rushed forward to the opposite woods, followed at no great distance by the main column. The Battery remained stationary until we got across, when they came forward and took up a new position in the woods near another field to the south. Our skirmishers crossed this field and occupied the opposite side, although the enemy showed a disposition to make a strong defense. This position was occupied in still greater force by the enemy and the key to it was a very good frame and log house with several out-houses. These we set on fire and burned to the ground. Here we rested. In a short time one of our skirmishers came in and reported that he had heard a rebel officer making a speech to his men, exhorting them to be firm and determined, to drive the Yankees back, &c., who from the description is supposed to have been John C. Breckinridge. In a little while the head of their column appeared over the hill, driving our skirmishers before them. They contested the ground, however, pretty well, but a cloud of skirmishers could do very little against a heavy column of infantry in mass, supported by cavalry and artillery. As soon as the enemy appeared over the hill our artillery opened on them, and you can judge of the rapidity of the firing when I tell you that our guns fired more than a hundred and fifty shots in less than three minutes. This was too much for the enemy and he was compelled to fall back. Our skirmishers resumed their former position. This terminated the fighting for that day.

Although the enemy’s firing was rapid, nearly all passed over our heads, fortunately for us, and did no damage except to the trees, some of which were cut off, and the top of one came near catching Lt. Williamson (who is acting as my aide in place of Lt. Young, sick) under it as it fell. I lost only one man wounded besides the artilleryman already referred to. We then went to work on the entrenchments, and after working all night, by morning we had strong works thrown up, behind which, after completing them, we rested for the day. The pickets, however, kept up a continual dropping fire and several times it became so sharp that we formed line of battle expecting an attack. None was made, however, and at night we laid down on the ground to sleep. I had not slept any for two days and nights, but never felt in better health.

All except the pickets slept soundly until about daylight when we were startled by a series of extraordinary explosions in the direction of Corinth. I soon received orders to take two regiments, a battery, and some cavalry, and move forward. Taking a hasty breakfast, we crossed the field, halted the artillery and cavalry on the ridge, which crosses the field parallel to our position, formed the infantry in the edge of the woods, deployed the skirmishers, and pushed forward through thick timber and a dense growth of underbrush. Our pickets reported the enemy in force just in our front, and we waited with feverish anxiety for the skirmishers to engage them. Not a gun was fired, however, and putting the column in motion I hastened forward to see what was going on. I soon overtook the skirmishers and in a short time we discovered an opening in the timber in front approaching which we came in full view of the enemy’s fortifications. Here we halted to reconnoitre, fully expecting a salute from the enemy’s guns as soon as we should be discovered. Capt. Clarke proposed to go alone and ascertain whether anybody was there. Brodhead had before made the same proposition when I told him not to be foolish. Without replying to Clarke, I expressed a wish to open communications with Gen. Smith on my left, and asked the Capt. if he would go. It seems that he being then on foot did not hear my remark and was thinking only of his own proposition. He answered that he would. I told him to take a mounted orderly with him, but he said he preferred going alone. I told him then to go along, when he mounted his horse, dashed out of the woods, across the road, and was far out in the field before I divined his real object. About two hundred yards out in the field is a hollow, and the water had washed out a little ditch through it about a foot or eighteen inches deep, which was covered over with grass. His horse struck in this ditch and away they both went rolling over and over each other. They were up, however, in an instant and away they went full speed towards the much dreaded fortifications. There we stood in the most intense excitement. He approached the rifle pits. He is now in two hundred yards of them. Will the enemy fire on a single horseman, or let him approach and capture him? A hundred yards and yet no shot! In another instant he crosses the pits, turns, waves his arm for us to come on, and then makes a dash for the great bastion, some two hundred yards further on. With a cheer our men dashed forward on a run. But almost before they had got underway, the gallant Captain was waving his cap from the summit of the bastion itself. The works had all been deserted—the enemy had fled. This does not detract, however, in any way from the gallant daring of Capt. Clarke’s act. From the point where we halted we could not tell that the works were deserted, and the act of riding up alone was very bold and daring.

I now felt satisfied of the character of the explosions we had heard. The enemy had blown up their magazines of ammunition and evacuated the town. We hurried on, hoping to be the first to enter the place. Gen. Smith had left our camp half an hour in advance of us, taking the main road. Still, we hoped to be abl to pass him. Passing through the deserted camps of the enemy, covered over with the wreck of all such things as are used in camp life, we emerged into the main road only to find Smith’s Brigade just passing the junction. We had had our race for nothing, and so had to fall back in rear of the advancing column. As it was, we were the second in town. But what a sight! Nine tenths of the houses were deserted and nearly half the town was a smoldering heap of ruins from which the smoke and flames were bursting continually. Nearly every house int he town had been used as a storehouse or as a hospital for the Confederate army. The people had been nearly all driven away and their houses occupied. Those that contained stores were fired to prevent them falling into our hands, and of course the fire communicated to many others. The sick must have been numbered by tens of thousands. All the large houses were occupied as hospitals and even some of the groves in the neighborhood. Nearly everything that could not be carried away was destroyed.

The enemy went away over nearly all the roads, the last of them leaving not more than half an hour before we entered the town. Where they have gone, no one seems to know exactly, but the greater part seems undoubtedly to have gone to the west. It is doubtful whether they will ever be able to collect together such another army. Our victory was a bloodless one, but it is nonetheless valuable on that account. It was accomplished by steady perseverance and industry. Our men are deserving of all praise. The enemy dared us to meet them on their chosen ground and when we advanced they fled.

This Division had by rapid advances got head of the centre of the army, and so we had to retire again to this place, Camp No. 8. Where we go next, quin sabe. We captured a good many prisoners.
Give my love to all the family
Yours Truly
J. W. Denver