every Rebel in sight, bewildered Confeder-
ate officers dickered over the identity of the
gunners and what to do about them.
As the Confederate attack proceeded in
costly fits and starts, Sheridan was granted
precious time in organizing a hasty defense
of the most forbidding terrain on the field.
While maintaining contact with Brig. Gen.
James Negley’s division on his left, Sheri-
dan bent back his right until his position
assumed the shape of a large “V.” It was a
precarious salient that pointed far to the
south, but it was situated in a boulder-
strewn cedar forest so dense that it consti-
tuted ready-made breastworks.
When Manigault’s brigade at last lurched
forward, the general directed his troops at
the formidable concentration of Federal
guns at the apex of Sheridan’s hairpin
defensive line. For the men who grappled
there, it was a terrifying experience. The
crouching soldiers of the 42nd Illinois that
awaited the Rebels could see next to noth-
ing. The cedars were so dense, recalled one
survivor, that they were not aware of the
approach of the enemy until they saw their
glistening bayonets a few feet from them. In
a few paralyzing moments, the forest floor
erupted with flashes of musketry. Men
dropped by the dozen as the two sides sav-
agely mauled each other. The Alabamians,
dazed by the punishment, fell back.
What ensued was one of the most savage
and sustained actions of the war. As
advancing Confederate troops curled
around the Union salient, they unleashed
repeated assaults at the Federal position.
Fortunately for the defenders, the dis-
jointed attacks were considerably blunted
due to lack of coordination. Exhausted and
mystified Confederate officers led their
troops into a bewildering maze of tangled
cedar thickets and limestone outcroppings.
The forest was rapidly blanketed in chok-
ing clouds of smoke, and opposing lines
routinely stumbled into each other at close
quarters. The carnage was immense. Lt.
Col. Junius Scales, who led his 30th Mis-
sissippi into the brutal maelstrom, later
recalled that “every foot of soil over which
we passed seemed dyed with the life blood
of someone.”Both sides fought with bitter tenacity.
Wave after wave of Confederate troops
clashed against the forest with little effect.
Rosecrans, who was desperately organiz-
ing a last-ditch defense of the Nashville
Turnpike, ordered Sheridan to buy time for
the rest of the army by holding his position
at all extremities. His troops did just that.
Caught in the closing jaws of a Confeder-
ate assault that swept in from the west,
south, and east, the Federals were subjected
to a horrendous crossfire made worse by
Rebel artillery. Confederate commanders
had rolled up every available gun to ham-
mer away at the Yankees, sending a storm
of shells crashing through the forest. Trees
splintered and cowering soldiers were torn
to pieces by sharp wooden projectiles rico-
cheting among the boulders.
For more than an hour the battered
Union troops held their position, but even-
tually they began to run low on ammuni-
tion. Sensing the inevitable, Sheridan reluc-
tantly ordered a retreat. The Federals came
to rue the impressive rock formations that
had served as such inviting defensive posi-
tions. As they scrambled over the boulders,
they fell prey to Confederate formations
that closed in for the kill. Few of the Fed-
eral artillery pieces could be extricated
from the deadly trap; the boulder-laced
cedar thickets, explained Sheridan, were
“almost impenetrable for wheeled car-
riages.” The veterans who struggled in the
confounding labyrinth of cedar trees were
witness to horrors that they would never
forget. “The history of the combat in those
dark cedar thickets,” recalled a soldier of
the 36th Illinois, “will never be known.”
For the exhausted Illinoisans who fled for
the rear, the scene conjured up gruesome
images of the Chicago stockyards; they
christened the ground the Slaughter Pen.
Sheridan’s beleaguered division had been
decimated, but their resolute defense of the
army’s dangerously exposed flank had
afforded Rosecrans priceless time to patch
together a new defensive line along the
Nashville Pike.
The unexpected ferocity of the Confed-
erate attack had wrecked McCook’s wing,
and thousands of troops fled for the rearin complete chaos. “Fugitives and strag-
glers emerged from the cedars in full view,”
recalled Lieutenant John Yaryan, “fol-
lowed by confused masses of panic-stricken
troops.” Rosecrans himself was anything
but composed, becoming nearly hysterical
as he worked frantically to save the army
and his own reputation. The general
grasped at every available reserve to stabi-
lize his collapsed right flank.
Off to Sheridan’s right, Rousseau
directed his division into the dense cedar
thickets south of the Nashville Pike. They
plugged the gap none too soon. Subsequent
to the morning’s confusion, McCown had
reorganized his battered division and
pushed hard for the Union rear. Rousseau’s
troops tangled with the Confederates
briefly and then fell back to the safety of
supporting artillery along the pike. In the
confusion, Colonel John Beatty’s brigade
never got the word to retire. A solid com-
bat leader, Beatty had received orders to
hold his position “until hell freezes over,”
and he endeavored to do just that.
Beatty’s Midwesterners hastily threw
together ad hoc breastworks of tree limbs
and settled in for a fight. Lucius Polk led his
brigade against the stronghold and was
roughly handled in the process. After
receiving withering fire during a failed
frontal attack, Polk attempted to edge past
Beatty’s right, but abruptly ran into the
concealed ranks of the 15th Kentucky. The
Bluegrass Unionists fired an unexpected
volley into the Rebels that sent them reel-
ing. Beatty had belatedly wised up. After
repeated attempts to make contact with
adjacent units, he came to the conclusion
that his brigade had been abandoned. The
annoyed colonel pulled his men out and
sardonically explained that “the contin-
gency to which General Rousseau
referred—that is to say, that hell had frozen
over”—had indeed taken place.
Beatty’s attempts to rally his brigade
failed until he reached the turnpike.
McCown’s brigades then mopped up the
last Federal resistance in the cedars, pressed
toward the pike, and halted at the edge of
the forest. Lines were dressed before renew-
ing the assault. Once again the rugged ter-CWQ-Sum16 Stones River_Layout 1 4/20/16 4:45 PM Page 90