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I like to read letters, diaries and memoirs of Civil War soldiers, as there is no better way to understand the life of someone that fought in the conflict than to read firsthand of their experiences. I just finished reading The Story of a Common Soldier written by Leander Stillwell, who served in Company D, 61st Illinois Infantry. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and I highly recommend it - the great thing is that it has been digitized, and can be read for free! You can find it on Google Books and download it at no charge.
Leander Stillwell enlisted in the 61st Illinois Infantry as a private on January 3, 1862, Just months after
joining the service, the 18 year old saw his first combat the battle of Shiloh, Tennessee, April 6-7, 1862. I thought I would share a portion of Stillwell's book, where he describes the opening of the battle of Shiloh, and the feelings that he had on going into combat for the first time:
And there we stood, in the edge of the woods, so still, waiting for the storm to break on us. I know mighty well what I was thinking about then. My mind's eye was fixed on a little log cabin, far away to the north, in the backwoods of western Illinois. I could see my father sitting on the porch, reading the little local newspaper brought from the post-office the evening before. There was my mother getting my little brothers ready for Sunday-school; the old dog lying asleep in the sun; the hens cackling about the barn; all these things and a hundred other tender recollections rushed into my mind. I am not ashamed to say now that I would willingly have given a general quit-claim deed for every jot and tittle of military glory falling to me, past, present, and to come, if I only could have been miraculously and instantaneously set down in the yard of that peaceful little home, a thousand miles away from the haunts of fighting men.
The time we thus stood, waiting the attack, could not have exceeded five minutes. Suddenly, obliquely to our right, there was a long, wavy flash of bright light, then another, and another! It was the sunlight shining on gun barrels and bayonets - and - there they were at last! A long brown line, with muskets at a right shoulder shift, in excellent order, right through the woods they came.
We began firing at once. From one end of the regiment to the other leaped a sheet of red flame, and the roar that went up from the edge of that old field doubtless advised General Prentiss of the fact that the Rebels has at last struck the extreme left of his line. We had fired but two or three rounds when, for some reason, - I never knew what, - we were ordered to fall back across the field, and did so. The whole line, so far as I could see to the right, went back. We halted on the other side of the field, in the edge of the woods, in front of our tents, and again began firing. The Rebels, of course, had moved up and occupied the line we had just abandoned. And here we did our first hard fighting during the day. Our officers said, after the battle was over, that we held this line an hour and ten minutes. How long it was I do not know. I 'took no note of time.'
We retreated from this position as our officers afterward said, because the troops on our right had given way, and we were flanked. Possibly those boys on our right would give the same excuse for their leaving, and probably truly, too. Still, I think we did not fall back a minute too soon. As I rose from the comfortable log from behind which a bunch of us had been firing, I saw men in gray and brown clothes, with trailed muskets, running through the camp on our right, and I saw something else, too, that sent a chill all through me. It was a kind of flag I had never seen before. It was a gaudy sort of thing, with red bars. It flashed over me in a second that thing was a Rebel flag. It was not more that sixty yards to the right. The smoke around it was low and dense and kept me from seeing the man who was carrying it, but I plainly saw the banner. It was going fast, with a jerky motion, which told me that the bearer was on a double-quick. About that time we left. We observed no kind of order in leaving; the main thing was to get out of there as quick as we could. I ran down our company street, and in passing the big Sibley tent of our mess I thought of my knapsack with all my traps and belongings, including that precious packet of letters from home. I said to myself, 'I will save my knapsack, anyhow,;' but one quick backward glance over my left shoulder made me change my mind, and I went on. I never saw my knapsack or any of its contents afterwards.
The Illinois Adjutant General's Report on the 61st Illinois Infantry gave this brief synopsis of their service at Shiloh:
April 6, 400 men were formed in line, in time to receive the first assault of the enemy, and stood their ground for
an hour and a quarter, and until every other Regiment in the division had given way, and were then ordered to fall back. Upon retiring from this position, the Regiment was complimented by General Prentiss for its gallant stand. It was then ordered to support a battery of the first Missouri Artillery, and at one o'clock P. M. ordered to the support of General Hurlbut--coming to his support at a very critical moment, and maintaining his line until relieved by a fresh Regiment, and when its ammunition was entirely exhausted. When the second line was broken, the Regiment retired in good order and took a position supporting the siege guns. April 7, was in reserve. Loss, 80 killed, wounded and missing, including 3 commissioned officers.
Leander Stillwell went on after Shiloh to have a very distinguished career in the army, earning promotions to first sergeant and later first lieutenant. After the war he studied law and then moved to Kansas, where he became a noted local judge. Stillwell had a long and distinguished life, dying at the age of 90 on September 10, 1934. In his obituary it was said of Stillwell:
A gallant soldier, a good citizen, a just and able judge, a high-minded and honorable man, after a long, long life, has gone to his reward. Hail - and Farewell! (The Iola Register, Iola, Kansas, August 15, 1934) Leander Stillwell is buried in East Hill Cemetery at Erie, Kansas.