first and worst, cantankerous Pillow next,
and Buckner best though last.

The Federal prospect was anything but bright on the evening of
the fourteenth. Foote had just been repulsed; while McClernand had
fought a silly little battle on his own account the day before,
to the delight of the Confederates and the grievous annoyance of
Grant. The fifteenth dawned on a scene of midwinter discomfort
in the Federal lines, where most of the rawest men had neither
great-coats nor blankets, having thrown them away during the short
march from Fort Henry, regardless of the fact that they would have
to bivouac at Donelson. Thus it was in no happy frame of mind that
Grant slithered across the frozen mud to see what Foote proposed;
and, when Foote explained that the gunboats would take ten days for
indispensable repairs, Grant resigned himself to the very unwelcome
idea of going through the long-drawn horrors of a regular winter
siege.

But, to his intense surprise, the enemy saved him the trouble. At
first, when they had a slight preponderance of numbers, they stood
fast and let Grant invest them. Now that he had the preponderance
they tried to cut their way out by the southern road, upstream, where
McClernand's division stood guard. As Grant came ashore from his
interview with Foote an aide met him with the news that McClernand
had been badly beaten and that the enemy was breaking out. Grant
set spurs to his horse and galloped the four muddy miles to his
left, where that admirable soldier, C. F. Smith, was as cool and
wary as ever, harassing the enemy's new rear by threatening an
assault, but keeping his division safe for whatever future use
Grant wanted. Wallace had also done the right thing, pressing the
enemy on his own front and sending a brigade to relieve the pressure
on McClernand. These two generals were in conversation during a lull
in the battle when Grant rode up, calmly returned their salutes,
attentively listened to their reports, and then, instead of trying
the Halleckian expedient of digging in farther back before the enemy
could make a second rush, quietly said: "Gentlemen, the position
on the right must be retaken."

Grant knew that Floyd was no soldier and that Pillow was a
stumbling-block. He read the enemy's mind like an open book and
made up his own at once by the flash of intuition which told him
that their men were mostly as much demoralized by finding their
first attempt at escape more than half a failure