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When Confederate General Braxton Bragg, commander of the Army of the Mississippi, and Confederate General Edmund Kirby Smith, command of the Department of East Tennessee, left Tennessee and invaded Kentucky in the fall of 1862, the Union Army of the Ohio, under the command of Union General Don Carlos Buell, received orders to leave Stevenson, Alabama and march to Louisville, Kentucky. The 10th Wisconsin left Stevenson with the rest of the army and on September 5, the regiment arrived in Nashville, Tennessee. From Nashville, the regiment marched to Louisville, Kentucky and on September 8, arrived in the river city. Lieutenant Lucius Dwight Hinkley, of the 10th Wisconsin, wrote “my regiment marched from Stevenson over seven hundred strong-At 3 o’clock in the morning of the last day of September after an all-night march, less than two hundred men-haggard and weary-ragged, brown, and dusty with nothing clean or bright except their polished arms-stacked their muskets and kindled their bivouac fires on the vacant lots of Louisville.” While in Louisville, the 10th Wisconsin was placed in Colonel Leonard “Len” Harris’ 9th Brigade, of General Lovell Rousseau’s Third Division. The brigade was comprised of the 38th Indiana Infantry, under the command of General Benjamin Scribner, the 2nd Ohio Infantry, under the command of Lt. Colonel John Kell, the 33rd Ohio Infantry, under the command of Colonel Oscar Moore, the 94th Ohio Infantry, under the command of Colonel John Frizell, and the Indiana 5th Battery, under the command of Captain Peter Simonson. Hinkley wrote that three days later the men of the 10th Wisconsin were “refreshed, reclothed, and rejoined . . . .four hundred (men) marched again in pursuit of Bragg.”
On October 2, the 10th Wisconsin left with the division from Louisville and on October 7, the regiment arrived in Mackville. Hinkley wrote: “we marched from our bivouac near the little village of Taylorsville and as usual tramped along the crooked Kentucky road with no more of incident than on every previous day.” On October 8, Colonel Harris’s brigade marched toward Perryville and found the Confederates under General Braxton Bragg at Chaplin Hills. The 9th Brigade occupied a position on the left of Colonel William Lytle’s 17th Brigade, of Rousseau’s division and to the right of General John Starkweather’s 28th Brigade, of Rousseau’s division. At 11 am, Colonel Chapin, and the 10th Wisconsin, was ordered to support Captain Simonson’s battery. The regiment took a position in the rear of the battery, sheltering near the crest of the ridge. By 3 pm, the regiment had suffered about four wounded. The regiment was ordered to advance to the top of the ridge at the double quick, where they discovered the Confederates advancing several lines long and were driving in the Union skirmishers, who panicked and ran through the 10th Wisconsin’s ranks. The regiment went into the battle with 360 enlisted men and sixteen officers. According to Colonel Chapin, the regiment fired “three volleys. . . .and sent them back over the ridge.” .ii Harris would be assailed by Colonel Thomas Jones’ brigade comprised of three Mississippi regiments and the artillery of Captain Charles Lumsden’s Alabama battery. Jones made four repeated assaults to try and break Harris’s line, but failed, losing almost fifty percent of his brigade. The brigade would not fight for the rest of the battle. Next in line of assault the 10th Wisconsin was General John Calvin Brown’s brigade, comprised of the 1st and 3rd Florida, along with 41st Mississippi Infantry, arrived and assaulted Harris’s brigade. Again, Brown attacked in the same place that Jones had assaulted earlier. The Confederates advanced and were determined to take Simonson’s guns. A section of Captain Joseph Palmer’s artillery also opened fire on the 10th Wisconsin. The 10th Wisconsin held their ground against a fierce attack. The 38th Indiana Infantry came to the support of the 10th Wisconsin Infantry. Simonson’s battery retired, leaving the 38th Indiana and 10th Wisconsin to hold back the Confederate infantry. The 10th Wisconsin was running out of ammunition and the men pilfered through the cartridge boxes of the wounded and dead desperately looking for ammunition. The regiment continued to hold their ground and for a half hour the regiment kept the Confederates back without any cartridges. The 10th Wisconsin received the order to withdrawn to the next ridge, where they replenished their cartridge boxes and held their position near the Russel house against the oncoming Confederate infantry. Darkness ended the battle. iii.
Lieutenant Lucius Dwight Hinkley, of the 10th Wisconsin, was twenty-eight years old at the battle of Perryville and gives a very detailed description of the battle. He wrote:
The forenoon was nearly passed when we halted for the hourly rest-and stretched ourselves under the shadows of the rail fences for such shelter as they afforded from the hot sun. The usual five minutes passed, and ten, and fifteen-and men began, as usual, to say: “Wonder what we are waiting for-we shan’t get into camp till after dark” and then suddenly two cannons shot, rang out away in front, the woods, which hid the road half a mile off came half a dozen cavalrymen of our advance guard, clattering back on the head of the column. Some men got to their feet to see what was coming-and officers said: “Wonder if they have run against anything down there” and the skeptics said: “That’s nothing, no danger of our having a fight.” In a few minutes the bugle sounded and word passed to fall in-and the men said: “Here we go again.” But as our men got into line, we saw the gunners of the battery, which was marching in advance of our regiment pulling down the fence, and then they wheeled their guns into the old cornfield at the side and we followed. We saw the guns go into position on a ridge perhaps forty rods forward and we filed into line in the hollow behind about a dozen rods away, and were ordered to lie down and then, the artillery in our front were waking the echoes of the Kentucky hill and overhead shot and shells were screeching. iv.
From our position in the hollow we could see nothing except our battery in front, which was thundering away furiously and the shot from the rebel battery bounding over the ridge behind us. Shells began to burst overhead as the rebel gunners improved in the range and it was made one’s flesh crawl to hear the long whine of the splinters which could not see nor tell where they would strike.
Men began to get nervous and say: “Lieutenant I don’t like this.” It was hardly to be supposed they would enjoy it, but as yet, no one was hit. . . .when the firing lulled a little, and at the call to attention, the men sprang to their feet. We filed off to the left and advanced upon the ridge, where the country lay before us and this is what we saw-just in front of us the crest of the ridge on which we stood-a little down the slope and five or six rods away a rail fence partly torn down-beyond a narrow valley and perhaps forty or fifty rods away the opposite ridge with a stone wall along the top.
Just at our left, the ridge we occupied and the opposite one ended at a transverse valley, down which we could see for a mile in front. Still to the left of us, and perhaps forty rods away the ridge rose again, lower than our position-and extended out of sight among the scattered trees. Across the transverse valley, to the left of the ridge in our front, but a little further away was the nearer side of a piece of woods which bounded our view in that direction. And as we halted, we saw a long line of rebel infantry coming into view from behind the opposite ridge and marching at double quick and in some disorder across the transverse valley toward the woods. Our colonel saw them too and shouted: “Co. K, put up your sights to 1,000 yards and open fire.” With what effect this order was obeyed I could not tell, but the distance was great and only accidental hits were made.
They were lost to view as they reached to wood, but in a moment the rattling crash of musketry from its shadows made our hearts stand still and then from the edge of the timber where they had entered their skulkers and slightly wounded began to appear-first-a few then by dozens, perhaps hundreds, running across the valley or seeking shelters to hide behind. Still the roar of the musketry in the woods was sustained and slowly it came nearer-our men appeared in the near side of the forest in some disorder, but coming back slowly, firing as they came-And looking to the ridge, beyond our left, I saw it crowned with a battery of artillery and in line of infantry-I do not know if they had just taken position or were there before our own arrival in line, but there were, and as the retiring line joined them and the rebels appeared in the edge of the woods, they opened fire.-I do not know if our own battery had been firing all this time -I do not know how long a time it was-I only know that I had watched the trees and listened to the swelling roar from among them. . . . But now we were to be no longer idle watchers of our comrade’s struggle, bullets began to hiss overhead and our own line was ordered to commence firing. On the opposite ridge a swarm of rebel infantry were coming into line behind the stone wall and almost before we had time to think, there was an unceasing hiss and hum of bullets around and over us accented by the loud scream of shot and shells and occasionally by the hoarser notes of pieces of railroad iron which went tumbling end over end through the air, thrown at us by the rebel guns. Our men were falling too and yet were half so nervous and uneasy was while listening to the flight of shells that hit nobody. They were ordered to lie down to steady firing which went on with deadly monotony. A monotony unbroken by any movement of shifting lines or maneuvering columns.
In our front a rebel battery was thundering at us-away off to our right, another almost enfilading our lines was sending its shells howling overhead. At the right of our regiment our own brigade battery of six guns was making the solid ground tremble with its rapid volleys-the hot and smoking guns bounding at every discharge-down at our left beyond the narrow interval, another was showering canister and shells across the valley in our front.
The ready roar of the guns was ringing in our ears and through it and with it the crackling rattling crash of musketry came always-but more clear and deadly than all other sounds forcing itself to be hear over and through the roar of the cannon the crash of musketry-the screaming flight of shells-was that sharpening ceasing hiss of the leaden bullets overhead around sometimes pattering on the ground in front or striking with a dull sound that told they had not come on an idle errand.
A bright boy of 18 sick in the morning and left to ride in the ambulance at the first gun of the opening battle took his rifle and started forward to join his company-A few minutes after were fairly engaged, he lay dead-shot through from breast to back. Our major (Henry O. Johnson) was on his horse behind the line-at the first volley his horse dropped with a dozen bullets through him-An hour later I heard the thud of two bullets in quick succession and looking round saw the major himself dead.-Ammunition was running low. Each wounded man who went to the rear was stripped of his cartridge box. The boxes of the dead were emptied.
The muskets were foul with long firing-One excited captain added to the list of wounded by ramming a ramrod through his hand while assisting one of his men to drive home a ball. A cool fellow in my company took out his tools and greased rags and cleaned out his gun in the height of the battle-another, who wore his blankets in a long coil over his shoulder and a cross his breast, received a bullet which was only prevented from going through him by the thick roll of blankets. He only remarked with a smile pointing to the spot: “Look at that Lieutenant.” Another wearing a well filled knapsack turned his back while loading and received two bullets in the knapsack which elicited only the comment: “Lucky I had that knapsack.” Another whose fouled rifle misfired, appealed to me. I helped him to pick the tube and work in a little powder from an opened cartridge and then I leveled and fired it and that was my first shot at the rebellion.
Three times from the opposite ridge the rebel lines had assayed to advance but each time had succeeded in getting no further than over the wall when they broke and retreated to its cover-The firing was slackened now for many of our men were out of ammunition and no signs of a new supply-When men turned to say: “I have only have a dozen cartridges left” we could only say: “Fire slow and make them count”-And then we heard the voice of the colonel: “Pick up your dead and wounded and fall back.” Men looked at each other in surprise-there was no relieving line in sight and it seemed like abandoning our post-but obeyed. We marched to the rear a few rods then filed off to the left into the transverse valley and halted. They said we were waiting for ammunition, but none came, and we marched to the rear perhaps a quarter of a mile and here we came upon the ammunition wagons. Shells were bursting overheard, but it seemed a safe and sheltered hollow compared to with the shot swept ridge in front and the men who went with me to bring cartridges-laughed at the nervous movements of the driver when a shell splinter struck the wagon and he allowed the case of cartridges he had just lifted on the edge of the sideboard to fall to the ground before they could take it. The butt of a musket opened the case and cartridge boxes were quickly refilled. The ammunition did not fit our guns but it could be used.-As we marched up another ridge we saw the new line rushing at double quick up the slope to take the place we had left. The blaze of their guns at their first volley shone red in the darkening air. It was already night. It was eleven o’clock.
Then the ranks stood to arms in anxious expectation of the coming renewal of the conflict-but the morning grew into day-the sun came up and rose above the trees and no noise of battle came back from the front-not even the musket of a solitary picket-And then there were rumors that the enemy were gone from our front-the rumors grew into certainty-the battle was really ended.
And now we had time to count the loss. . . . We looked at our own battalion line shrunken almost to half its length. Of the 387 men “present for duty” on our morning reports yesterday 153 lie wounded in hospitals or silent and cold on the bare ridge yonder. Of our color guard every man was killed or wounded.”
According to Colonel Chapin in his official report, the 10th Wisconsin suffered one major (Henry O. Johnson) killed and thirty-five enlisted men, and in wounded two commissioned officers, 107 enlisted men, four of whom would die later from their wounds, one lieutenant was taken prisoner, and three enlisted men were missing. According to Private William Day, there were seven men killed of the color guard. He also mentioned that there were 49 bullet holes in the colors and three bullets in the staff. v. J. G. Hatchitt, Surgeon and Medical Director in Perryville, wrote to Colonel Chapin about the deaths of Abraham Wood on October 20 from a gunshot wound, Alanson A. Bull, gunshot wound in both legs died on October 20, Corporal Alexander Trimble, who died on October 15, at Antioch Church, John Court, who died at Antioch Church, John Bennett, who died on October 28, from a wound in the left shoulder, and on November 1, Alphonzo Jones, groin and secondary hemorrhage. On November 11, 1862, the Medical Director George Shumand wrote from the Medical Director’s Office in Danville, Kentucky to Colonel Chapin informed him of the death of Andrew J. Angier, of Company G, who was wounded in the arm and died on November 3 in the Perryville General Hospital.vi. Archelaus Farnam, of Company D, died on October 18th at Perryville from disease. Peter Anderson died on January 23, 1863, from wounds, William Campbell died at Perryville from wounds on October 16, Hiram Hulet, died October 13, 1862, from wounds.
On October 17, 1862, Private Franklin Howard, of the 10th Wisconsin, wrote to his sister and brother from Crab Orchard, Kentucky about the battle. He wrote:
Our regiment was the first infantry that opened fire on the enemy and we were in the hottest fight. We went in with from 350 to 400 men and came out with three more than half. There was a whole Brigade of Rebel Infantry on our regiment. We fought them for three to one for over two hours almost hand to hand. The battle commenced about noon and lasted until dark and still gone it was a hard fight. General Rousseau says the Battle of Shiloh was no comparison that is the fierceness of the battle. Our regiment was cut up badly. There were killed and wounded all around me, but I was not scratched. Major Johnson was killed just in the rear of our company just in the rear of our company just as we were being drawn off of the field. I was over the battlefield the next day. I tell you it was an awful sight on our side but one the enemy’s it was three times as bad. There as three of their men to one of ours. Some of them out into with solid balls and some with their heads blown off with the bursting of shell. I can’t tell you anything about it. A pen in the most skilled fingers could give you but a slight idea of a field upon which a fierce battle had been fought. I wish you could have been here or in sight of the field when the fight our regiment. I could not see much for I had to attend to my own business and the smoke was so thick I couldn’t see two rods. Our Regiment was in few crossfires; a crossfire of musketry and a crossfire of artillery and the grape and canister flew-dreadful lost you will see the details of the battle in print.” vii.
After the battle of Perryville, family members read in the local papers about their relatives being wounded or killed during the battle and family members sought passes to visit the numerous field hospitals and graveyards looking for their relatives. Private Charles Coleman of Company D, 10th Wisconsin, had a sister Sara Jane Coleman, who did not hear about the battle of Perryville until three weeks later in the local paper. Someone sent her a paper containing list of killed and wounded and among the list was Charles Coleman, who was reported as seriously wounded and perhaps fatally wounded in the head. Sara was determined to go search for her brother. She arrived in Louisville, Kentucky and began her search among the numerous hospitals looking for her brother. At hospital number 7, she found Corporal (later sergeant) Gilbert Dowd of the 10th Wisconsin, who was wounded in the arm at the Battle of Perryville. When Sara saw Dowd, she said: “Oh where is Charles?” He laughed and said: “Charlie’s all right I saw him after he was wounded carrying water to the soldiers. No doubt he is with his regiment now.” The following day Sara met with Mr. Graham of Louisville, who told her that Union General Don Carlos Buell’s Army of the Ohio was at New Market, ninety miles away, and he doubted if she could get a pass to visit the camp. Mr. Graham stated that he was a personal friend of General Lovell Rousseau and he could obtain a pass for Sara. She took the train for Lebanon, Kentucky, six miles from New Market. When she reached the station at Lebanon, she asked a sutler if she could ride with an army wagon heading for the Federal camp. viii.
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