This was a sad camp to us. One of our men, Garret, got angry with Mr. Bragden, the Beef Sergeant, who divided the company rations. Taking his gun, he went to Bragden’s tent where he was unarmed and shot him like a dog. Garrett would have been lynched if the officers had not hurried him off to another part of the army.
June 27th we marched to Wartrace, June 29th to Tullahoma, June 30th we were deployed to build breastworks, but we retreated at eleven o’clock at night to Alisonia on Elk River.
July third, we camped in the Cumberland Mountains, near the school which had been established by General Polk and the Quintards. It was an ideal place for a school and I am glad to say it bears, today, an honored name among educators as the University of the South.
We had marched all day in the hot July sun, clouds of dust had parched our throats, and we were almost perishing for water when we reached the spring. As we rested at the side of the road whom should we see but our crack Louisiana Regiment—the one we had relieved at Manchester only ten days before. They were dusty, dirty, lame and halt, with feet sore and swollen in their tight shoes,a bedraggled and woe begone set of youngsters. How we joshed them.
“Don’t cry, mama’s darling;” “Straighten up and be men;” “Brace up like soldiers, so the army won’t be ashamed of you.” These were some of the commands we hurled at them. They would have fought us if they could have stopped, but a soldier cannot break ranks.
July 4th, 1863, we camped in the valley on the Tennessee River. Then we crossed the River at Kelly Ford to Lookout Valley. July 9th we marched through Chattanooga and camped at Turner’s Station.
August 17th we marched to Graysville. Here Dr. T. R. Ashford got a four days’ furlough. Dr. Ashford had married in Georgia and had gone with his bride to Arkansas and established himself as a physician. When the war broke out he joined the army from his adopted home, going out as assistant surgeon in our regiment. His wife returned to her mother in Georgia and he had not seen her for two years. As Graysville was near her home, she came to visit him and there they had a happy meeting.
Dr. Ashford, always kind and sympathetic, was a great favorite with the boys. Highly educated and a fine surgeon, he was modest and unassuming, a sincere Christian gentleman. After the war he settled in Georgia. Dr. Ashford, Dr. Arnold and I were close friends through those long dreadful years.
August 21st we camped at Harrison on the Tennessee River. On August 23rd we marched fourteen miles and camped at Gardner’s Ferry.
Here several of the boys went foraging and got some nice green apples. George Thomas, Captain Shoup and others made apple dumplings and put them in a large camp kettle to cook.
They were standing around the fire, with mouths watering, thinking every minute an hour, when the Yankees on the other side of the river began to shell the camp. They had run up four globe-sighting 16 shotguns to the top of a small hill. We were too far from our guns andthere were no orders given to shoot, so they shelled us a plenty.
While the boys were watching the kettle a cannon ball struck the fire, upset the kettle, passed between the legs of one of the men and exploded a little farther on. This did not seem to cause any alarm. They had heard cannon balls explode before, but a mighty wail went up over the loss of the apple dumplings. The air was blue around there, and at that particular moment the boys would have charged the enemy joyously.
I was with the doctors that day. They had a negro who was a fine forager. He even brought us fried chicken. We had a royal spread in front of the doctors’ tent and were consuming the good things with great relish, when a cannon ball went through the tent! It looked like it was going to smash us to smithereens, grub and all! We got away from there. We grabbed the grub and, went down the line where we finished our meal. Not royally as we would have done, but hastily and stealthily.
But our sharp-shooters in the dumps on the river got even with them. The Yanks drove out into the field with two six-mule wagons to get some fine rebel fodder. There were about thirty men in all, teamsters and guards. Some of them stood on the rail pen surrounding the fodder, others climbed on the shock to begin at the top. Our sharp-shooters shot the mules first, then the men, and few lived to tell the tale. Sherman said, “War is Hell.” In this case it was hell to them.
September 10th we marched down the valley toward Lafayette. As the dust was a foot deep and water scarce we moved slowly and we went into camp about ten o’clock.
Dr. Scott of our Division, was sent for to see a citizen who was very ill. He went and relieved him, and left medicine, not asking pay for his services. After he had returned to camp a negro brought him a huge tray heaped with good things to eat. The doctor looked at the pile of grub, and said, “You boys must dine with me today, I can’t eat all of this.” We needed no further urging for our blue beef and water corn-dodger was rather poor fare. We lit into it, and as hungry wolves devour a sheep, so we devoured that pile of grub. Then the darkey took histray and departed with a note of thanks. Our gratitude was truly sincere.
September 19th battle was on hand. We were in General Polk’s Brigade, to which the Hardee Corps had been transferred. When orders were read we found ourselves named as reserves. Cannonading began on our right, and we were moved quickly to the sound of the shot, about three miles. As we drew nearer to it we were ordered to double-quick. When we came to Chickamauga Creek we began to pull off our shoes to wade when General Cleburne came along saying, “Boys, go through that river, we can’t wait.”
Through the creek we went, and were among the first to be engaged instead of being reserves. When our line was deployed and ordered forward we were the very first. We struck stubborn western troops who knew how to fight. The conflict was terrific and raged all day. When night fell the engagement was stopped. Throwing out skirmishers we found that the lines were mixed up terribly. We were among the Yankees and they were calling, “What command is this?” It was midnight before the lines were reformed. Then we had a night’s sleep on the ground, knowing that on the morrow some of us would fall in defense of our country—some of us would never see home and mother again. General Longstreet arrived in the night with re-inforcements, bringing a division from Virginia. At daybreak the struggle was renewed. On both sides was the determination, “God being our helper, we will win this day.” Wave after wave of deadly lead was sent against those Western troops, who contested every inch of the ground, who would stand a charge, and stay on the field. But our blood was hot, we fought for home, and against an invading foe and we could not give up at all. At the end of two days a battle of battles had been fought and won for the Confederate cause. But alas, how many Southern boys had bitten the dust. The field was so thickly strewn with dead we could scarcely walk over it without stepping on the corpses. Our Regiment lost 42 killed and 103 wounded, and of the 120,000men engaged on both sides, 28,000 were killed and wounded.
Longstreet’s men said to us, “Boys, you have tougher men to fight than we.”
If we had followed up our victory and had Forrest cut off the enemy’s supplies what a difference it would have made. We might have stretched our lines to the Kentucky border. Such are the mistakes of war.
At this battle one of the boys captured two horses and gave them to Dr. Arnold. He said he would draw feed for them and on the march I could ride one of them. I named my horse “General Thomas” but before we left our first camp the assistant surgeons could draw feed only for one horse so I was afoot as I had been for two years.
We established a line of breastworks on Missionary Ridge and held Lookout Mountain, a mountain over a mile in height, and, as we thought, commanded Chattanooga.
The Yankees saw that something must be done or things would be booming in Dixie. They brought to the front Dutch, Irish, Hottentots and all kinds of troops, and by the last of October the Sequatchie (?) (Wauhatchie?) Valley was swarming like a beehive.
Once a Dutch corps of 15,000 went down the valley through a gap to reach our rear. Bragg sent to meet them about 15,000 troops, placing them arrowed in front. He had a line under General Hindeman with orders, at a certain signal, to rush across, cutting them off entirely from the main army. The signal was never given and we do not know why to this day. At that signal we were to follow across the valley at double-quick but Mr. Dutch discovered he was in a trap and he marched out again.
There was a Union man living on the route of this Dutch Devil, who had not joined either army. He had lived on his farm unmolested by the Southern troops, and supposed that of course he would be protected by the Northern troops. As the Dutch marched down to attack us they stopped at this man’s home, searched the place, insulted his wife and knocked him down. As they came running back they had no time to tarry, but one at a time, a straggler, would drop into his smokehouse to see if there was one ham left. The Union man took a long,keen bowie-knife and stood in the dark corner of the smokehouse; when only one man entered he stabbed him to the heart and put his body into the well. He killed three men. Next morning, he with his wife and children, walked into our camp. He said he was ready to fight to the bitter end. He took his family South and came back and made a bad soldier for them.
November 23, 24 and 25 we fought the “Battle Above the Clouds,” the terrible conflict of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge. We were fighting continuously during those three days. We were in breastworks on the ridge near Lookout Mountain, but when the fighting was fiercest we were sent to relieve the commands at the extreme right of the Yankee army. They came in solid front five columns deep and charged our breastworks but were driven back hour after hour with terrible slaughter. Late in the afternoon they made a concentrated attack on our center and drove our men out of line. We had to give up Lookout Mountain and we retreated to the Ridge about midnight. Throughout the night Sherman’s troops were coming up, and next day we were attacked in front and flank. Our breastworks were of no use as Lookout Mountain commanded the Ridge, so in spite of desperate struggles we were ordered to retreat.
At Chattanooga it had been agreed that there should be no firing on the line of pickets without notification. Here between the picket line and the main line of battle our sporting boys sought “sheckle luck,” those who were fortunate enough to have a few sheckles of Confederate money. One day when General Hardee was officer of the day he ordered a regiment deployed around the gamblers, but soldiers from all parts of the field yelled to the boys to run, and run they did. General Hardee did not get many.
In our company was a Kentucky lad named Barnett who had a brother in the Union Army. They got permission to spend the day together. When the day was over they separated, each going back to his command. Thatwas a war! Brother against brother, father against son, arrayed in deadly combat.
We went to Dalton, marching all night. As we crossed the river it seemed the coldest night our thinly clad men had ever experienced. Our corps under Hardee was the rear guard. General Cleburne’s Division was immediately in the rear. General Polk was our Brigadier General. About two o’clock we passed General Cleburne.
[ … ]
mountain, looking and thinking.
“Something is going to happen” I said to the boys.
“Why?”
“Look at General Cleburne, don’t you see war in his eyes?”
We had crossed Ringold Mountain, but we were sent back to take the horses from the cannon, put men in their places, and pulled it quickly to the top of the mountain, so to the summit over rocks and between trees two pieces were carried. Our regiment was sent to the top with them. Two minutes more would have been too late. Not fifty yards away on the other side of the hill were Yankees climbing for the same goal. Then the firing began. We had the advantage in having a tree to use as breastworks, and in being able to see them. Whenever one stepped aside from his tree to shoot our men got him. Captain Shoup and John Baird rolled rocks down the hill and when a Yankee dodged the other boys shot him. We picked off dozens. When the cannon was got ready and began shelling the woods, breaking the trees, tearing up rocks and showering them on the lines below, they had to break and retreat in haste down the hill.
If we had not got there as soon as we did our line would have been the one to retreat.
General Cleburne took us next to Ringold Gap, a gap dug by the railroad through the mountain. He made a talk to the boys, telling us that we were there to save the army, which was five miles away and could not possibly get help to us. Our task would require nerve and will of which he knew we had plenty. We were to form two lines of battle across the gap and were not to fire until he gave the signal, (by signs, as commands would not beheard in the roar of guns.)
The Yankees having failed to break our line on the mountain had massed their forces at the gap, determined to break Cleburne’s line, when the rest would be easy for them.
They came on seven columns deep to our two. We watched them advance and seconds seemed hours. We felt they would be on us before Cleburne ever gave the signal. Would he never give it? At last when the time was ripe, he, who knew the art of war so well, gave the signal to fire, and such deadly work did we perform as was not surpassed in the whole four years of war. We let loose on them four pieces of cannon. The command to stop firing was not given until the number of dead in our front was greater than our Brigade. This fight showed strategy and bravery. It checked the advance of an army five times greater than our Division, and it proved to General Hardee that he had one man who could plan and execute a battle with any adversary. Ever after, Cleburne with his Arkansas, Tennessee and Texas men was placed in the hottest part of battle. Our loss was 88 killed, 23 wounded, and their loss was reported in Northern papers as 2,000 killed, wounded and captured.
We went into winter quarters at Dalton, our regiment being in front of the general army. We camped near Tunnel Hill. We had good foraging ground and could get chickens, eggs, butter, so we lived high. John Loftin was captain of the foragers and he was a good one too. He only got caught once but he lied out of that. Two negroes, who belonged to two doctors of our Brigade, went to Dalton one night to see the sights and buy half-moon pies, big sorghum ginger-bread, and other things. Coming home at midnight they were crossing a railroad trestle when two robbers called on them to halt. Sam began to parley with them when whack! they hit him over the head, and told him to give up his money. He yielded up his shin-plasters, all he had. They then took Tom’s can. He did not have much so they told him to pull. He was a good runner especially when scared, and he lit out over rocks and brush, beating his partner to camp. With eyes as big as saucers he related his exploits to his master. They did not visit Dalton at night again. We used to goover there to see the girls and have parties and sorghum “candy pulls.” It was a great diversion, and between the lines, when the guards were on to it they would arrest, but the boys could usually outgeneral them.
From this camp I was sent on a three days’ furlough to Augusta to buy some drug supplies not to be found in Atlanta. When I reached Atlanta whom should I meet but George Roberts, one of my old mess-mates who had been transferred to Morgan’s Cavalry. Morgan had been captured, and all that was left of the command was at Macon re-organizing. George was buying horses. He was flush and wanted me to take a thousand dollars, but I had lots of money, at least for these days. He went to the depot to see me off. Robert was a fine fellow. He was a regular city rat. We country boys used to get him to pilot us around the city. He would know all the streets in a day and could take us anywhere we wanted to go. After the war he settled in Texas, where he was cashier of a bank. He died several years ago.
In Augusta I met Colonel Snyder of the Eighth Arkansas. He was from Pocahontas, Ark., and was then on a furlough. I also met Ed M. Dickinson, Thad Kinman and Ben Adler. They belonged to the quartermaster’s department under Captain Bridewell and Major Moon. They kept books as big as a dining table. As they belonged to this particular department they helped me to draw a new jacket suit. They lived in a fine city and fared sumptuously, so knowing all the ropes they made it mighty pleasant for me. Through Ed I met an uncle whom I had not seen before. It was on a crowded street in the city, but I knew him at once from his resemblance to my father. When I accosted him he was very dignified and seemed to doubt me until I told him the names of the whole family. Then he insisted upon me going to his home. He had an interesting family. My grandmother died at his home and was buried in a cemetery in Augusta. I got back to camp on time. After living off the fat of the land our regular diet of blue beef and corn bread somehow failedto tickle the palate. George Thomas, who had been wounded at Murfreesboro, got back to us at this camp.
We were waiting to move on the checkerboard. Jeff Davis, General Bragg, Johnston and all were calling for the troops to have a decisive battle hereabouts, but there was a difference of opinion between Davis and the commanding generals. Our Brigade was ordered, I suppose to Mississippi. We went by rail to Montgomery, were halted there, and were sent back to Dalton and went into camp again.
May 8th, 1864 we began the famous Dalton campaign, under the leadership of the superb General Joseph E. Johnston. He had between forty and fifty thousand men divided into three corps, commanded respectively by Generals Hardee, Hood and Polk. He was opposed by Sherman with about 100,000 well drilled seasoned soldiers [ … ] by Generals Thomas, McPherson and Schofield, but Johnston was equal to the campaign.
May 8th we were menaced by the enemy in front and flank. May 9th we moved our position two miles to the left and on May 10th we moved rapidly back to the top of the mountain. We had no tents nor protection of any kind. We slept on the ground among the rocks. Although it rained in torrents, we were so dead tired from our 33 mile march, we did not know it was raining until we were wet through. At daybreak we were again on the march and went to Snake Creek Gap, then three miles to the left and built breastworks. From there we marched to Resaca. May 15th we had heavy fighting and were forced from our position. The retreat was covered by Hardee’s corps. Our engineers had to build, under fire, a bridge for the army to cross the Costenaula. In fact from Dalton to Atlanta we had a continuous battle. We moved back slowly, and only when flanked and outnumbered. When we adopted a new line a few miles back, we built breastworks. Thus marching, battling, building works, in rain and mud, with no camp, no tents and but little food, the campaign went on. But in all our skirmishes and engagements we used every advantage to their great loss. We fell back to Calhoun, then to Adairsville. We were the rear guard on that road. After we had crosseda creek and marched to the top of the hill, (our Cavalry to the rear), the Yankees moved opposite and opened up a battery. We were ordered to lie down and not to fire until told to do so. General Polk and General Jackson rode in front of us and the sharp-shooters and artillery of the enemy made it hot for them, bullets going through their hats and clothes. General Jackson would dodge, but General Polk would sit as straight as an arrow and never move a muscle. I heard him when he told General Cleburne and asked permission to advance on the enemy. When the courier returned General Cleburne himself came to see the fun. From our hill could be seen fifty thousand Yankee troops—Infantry, Cavalry and Artillery. For our Brigade to advance against such a force was a visionary idea, and the permission was not given.
We moved on to join our main army which was a few miles in front drawn up in line of battle near Cassville. Our line was in open field, five miles long. Each man had forty cartridges and knew how to use them. General Johnston rode along the line and told the men he was going to give battle. The soldiers threw their caps into the air and shouted themselves hoarse with joy at the thought of going into a fight which they felt in their souls would be successful. It was inspiring to see such enthusiasm in battle scarred veterans who knew what fighting meant. It was not theory with them, it was knowledge gained in bloody experience. I was glad I was on that field and saw that flashing of Southern bravery. Such patriots are born only of liberty-loving people, born of God. That confidence of success, that confidence in their leader was what Joseph E. Johnston had looked for, had prayed for. He knew his position to be the best he had ever had. He now knew the temper of his men. Nothing could have checked them. It would be the biggest battle of the war and his success.
When this great battle was formed in Johnston’s brain and the Generals ordered to occupy the ground assigned them, who was the first to say he could not hold his position? Who, but General Hood! Histories love to state that these generals led their men, but here was a time when the general did not lead into battle the bravest men in the world who were clamoring for the fight.
LYMAN B. GILL
LYMAN B. GILL
General Polk also expressed his disapproval of the movement. When his two generals went back on him, Johnston was paralyzed and could not or did not attempt to carry out his plan. Unlike Albert Sydney Johnson at Shiloh, who, when his plan was disapproved of, and obstacles thrown in his way, arose like the giant hero he was and said “You who are true, go to your commands. The battle will begin at daybreak.” If he had lived a few hours longer he would have won that battle beyond a doubt.
If Joseph E. Johnston had said something like this the men would have done the rest, but when he ordered the line under the skirmish fire to retreat they obeyed like true soldiers. It was a bitter disappointment, but their trust in the great commander was firm. He hoped that other opportunities would offer but when the time came he was relieved and the command given to that General who had thwarted the greatest battle of the Confederacy.
Johnston’s plan of campaign was the only one possible for us, fighting against such odds. I am not a general, nor the son of a general, but having been right on the ground for four years, feel that I am entitled to an opinion. And so with all the men who composed Company G, First Arkansas Regiment, Hardee Corps, Govan Brigade, Cleburne Division. The verdict of these men who helped make history is that if Johnston’s [ … ] had prevailed the Confederacy would have had a different tale to tell at Atlanta.
Tacticians now agree that Johnston’s success in preserving his army almost entire was an achievement of the greatest military science.
May 19th we left Cassville. We marched mostly by night, built breastworks, and by daybreak were ready for the contest. On May 26th the heaviest assault on our works took place. On our skirmish line, a short distance in front of our works we had dump holes dug in the ground, the dirt thrown out facing the enemy. Thirty men stayed in the dumps until the main line came up. Then they opened fire and checked the advance. When they could no longer do this, they ran back to the line behindthe breastworks.
At New Hope Church the enemy made a seven line concentrated assault on our line. Our men were cool and steady, and all were splendid shots. We waited until they were very near, then sent forth a sheet of fire and lead that could not be withstood. The number of their dead was enormous, and our own loss was considerable. We lost our first lieutenant, Alley Walthall, here. He was a distant relative of General Walthall, and as brave a man as ever lived on earth.
A lieutenant of another company was killed also. He was in one of the dumps with one of the sixteen rifles. He had seen four Yankees fall under his well-directed fire, but at last was mortally wounded. He backed out of the dump and into a hollow where the enemy could see him fall. His comrades went out and brought him behind the breastworks. As he lay on the ground he conversed with his friends urging them to become Christians. Sending for the Colonel, he told him that he (the colonel) was a wicked man, and must lead a better life. By way of comfort one of the boys told him how many Yankees he had killed in the assault. The lieutenant said, “Yes, I killed three. But, my brother, don’t gloat over it. Do your duty, but don’t gloat over it.” After sending many loving messages home he passed away.
Meanwhile Sherman was receiving re-inforcements, and on June 9th moved against our intrenchments along Lost Mountains. In this region there was fighting for several days in the midst of almost incessant rain. General Polk was killed during this engagement. June 15–17 we abandoned both mountains and fell back to the great Kennesaw overlooking Marietta.
June 20th two of us got a permit to go to Marietta for tobacco and other supplies. As we were passing through the residence part of the city a kind-hearted lady invited us into the house to eat raspberries with her family. We did not have the heart to refuse her hospitality, so we went in. We had raspberries, cream and cake. Think of it, rebel soldiers regaled with such delicacies! When we got back to camp we told the boys about it and they saidwe lied! But the memory of that kind act to strangers and common privates will last as long as life itself.
On the 27th after a furious cannonading for hours by the enemy he made a general advance in heavy columns. Their assault in seven lines deep was vigorous and persistent on Cheatham’s and Cleburne’s Divisions of Hardee’s Corps, the Confederates being covered by strong rifle pits which could not be carried by front attack, coolly and rapidly pouring a murderous fire into the massed Federals, causing losses entirely out of proportion to those inflicted upon the Confederates. The loss of the enemy in front of Cleburne’s Division was one thousand deaths. After the repulse of the second desperate assault the dry leaves and undergrowth in the forest before Cleburne’s Division were set on fire by the shells and gun wadding, and began burning rapidly around the Federal wounded and dead, exposing them to a horrible death. This danger was observed by the Confederates who were ordered instantly to cease firing and Lieutenant Colonel Martin, First Arkansas Regiment of Cleburne’s Division, called to the Federals that as an act of humanity his men would suspend further battle until the assailants could carry off their dead and wounded who were liable to be burned alive. This offer was accepted by the Federals and in this work of mercy the Federals were joined by the Confederates who leaped their head logs and helped to carry off their dead and wounded. This occurrence is perhaps unparalleled in the annals of war. In this great struggle the Federal army numbered about or over one hundred thousand and Confederates numbered fifty thousand and in this Kennesaw battle our loss was eight hundred and eight the Federal loss about five thousand.
July 4th was celebrated by skirmishing all day. Sherman hoped to catch us and administer a fatal blow before we could cross the Chattahootchee, but we threw up strong intrenchments so quickly, and guarded the rear soskillfully that the army was all across the river July 5th without having been molested.
But speaking of the Fourth of July. At this time Colonel Fellows, who had been with our command on our first trip to Richmond, was in prison at Johnson’s Island together with about three thousand other officers. The rebels gained permission for Colonel Fellows to speak on the stand used by the guards as a watch tower. As he poured forth his thoughts, turning the Fourth of July to the glory of the South even the Yankee guards, who had stopped to listen were spellbound by his eloquence. He had it all his own way and the rebels were shouting like mad. The officer of the day finally awoke to the situation, took a file of soldiers, and brought the speech to a close. At another time in the same prison Lincoln’s Proclamation was read, offering pardon and freedom to all rebel prisoners who would take the oath of allegiance. The officers lined up in the barracks and announced that any man who wished to take the oath might step over to this line, give his name and be free. When Colonel Fellows was called he made a five minute talk in which he declared death was preferable. One of our boys, Shannon Logan of Co. G, First Arkansas Regiment, eighteen years old, was captured. He was a relative of General Logan and when his name appeared General Logan’s family drove down to the prison with the papers necessary for his release. They asked to see him and were shown a dirty, greasy, lousy private. Through the grime they recognized a fine boy with a noble face. They took him home, bathed him, clothed him, fed him, then told him to be their boy thenceforth. If this lonely boy, away from home, away from comrades had taken the oath he would have been free, with loving kinsmen, with luxury and riches, but he said “No, no! I will die first.” So for him it was back to the filthy prison among the vermin and the rats.
LON STEADMANNow living at Paragould, Ark., where he was sheriff for ten years.
LON STEADMANNow living at Paragould, Ark., where he was sheriff for ten years.
This, one of the many instances of the loyalty displayed by the rank and file, should be told to coming generations that they may know how the Southern private never faltered, but was true to the core.
July 12th we crossed the Chattahootchee near Atlanta. July 18th we marched four miles and built breastworks. July 20th there was hard fighting at Peach Tree Creek in which we lost heavily. Our noble Captain Shoup was wounded and the command devolved upon Second Lieutenant Clay Lowe. He and John R. Loftin were the only commissioned officers we had left.
July 22 we marched ten miles to the right of Atlanta. Hardee had attacked the enemy in the rear and there had been a terrible struggle which lasted for hours. Toward evening we heard the Yankee Bands playing and the soldiers shooting and cheering and we knew they had won.
While Johnston was in command he had preserved his army, and inflicted upon the enemy a loss almost equal to our strength when we began the campaign. Our loss had been about nine thousand, which had been filled by the return of the wounded and furloughed men, so that General Hood received an army fully as strong as it was at Dalton. We were as ready to fight as ever although certainly disappointed at the loss of Johnston. We felt that no other general could do what he had done.
Soon after the war ended Johnston was going from Memphis to St. Louis. General Sherman and his staff were on their way to New Orleans. When Sherman learned that his former adversary was on board a certain boat he took passage for St. Louis on the same vessel. After supper he asked Johnston if he had any objection to going over with him the retreat from Dalton. Johnston said he had not. So Sherman spread his maps on the cabin table and, surrounded by a throng of listeners, they began. Sherman would ask about his line at a certain place, and Johnston would explain how his move was made. Sherman would point to his map and say: “How in the world did you get away from me here?” They talked all night. Johnston needed no map. He had been in the very thick of battle for seventy-four days; the map of campaign was burned into his brain, and he knew every footof the ground. His retreat was a wonder to Sherman and to the world. Yet this great military genius was thrown out on the eve of his final and greatest assault upon Sherman. An assault which would have saved Atlanta to the Confederacy. Hood and Davis tactics prevailed after that and the splendid, unconquered army was swept off the earth into the grave.
Hood questioned the morale of his army, but as for that, our poor little Company G went into line under Hood as true as it ever had under Johnston. We fought for the cause, not the general. Jim Hensley, a boy who had been wounded severely, returned to the company. His physician had not reported him for duty, but had given him merely a pass to his command. I was in the field hospital when the order to forward was given. Hensley came to me saying: “Here, my dear old friend, is a little silver watch I wish to give you, for I shall be killed today.”
I told him he had not been reported for duty; that he was still far from well, and begged him not to go into battle, especially as he had a presentiment that he should be killed. He turned his soulful eyes upon me. “Will, do you think I am afraid because I know I am going to be killed?” Putting his hand on his breast he continued, “I have no fear of death. I am a Christian, and I know I shall be safe in heaven.” With tears we parted. He joined his brave comrades, Jim Murphy, John Baird and George Thomas on the left of Company G, after the line was in motion. They were moving against strong entrenchments heavily defended by abatis. These four boys saw they could crawl under the abatis without being seen and get close to the breastworks. After they started, the command was given to oblique to the left, but in the roar of the musketry the boys failed to hear it and went on alone. There were about a hundred Yankees on the breastworks watching our line which was advancing upon their rear. The four boys crawled close in, prepared, and opened up. At the first fire down came four Yankees. They were taken by surprise, not knowing there were any men at their front. The boys kept at their game until the Yankees ran. Then went forward to take possession ofthe works. Then they found themselves alone and two hundred of the enemy entrenched behind a second line! It was death anyway, so they ran forward firing on the troops with terrible accuracy. One man had a bead on Thomas when Murphy shot the fellow. One hinged for Murphy when Thomas bayoneted him. So they had it—hand to hand. Poor Hensley was killed, Murphy terribly wounded, Baird wounded, but Thomas would not surrender. He bayoneted them until they took his gun, then he kicked and bit until they finally killed him there. Four men had killed twenty-five Yankees, but only one of the four lived to tell the tale. To question the morale of such men is farcical. The battle on our left raged all day, and we were defeated. Our colonel lost his foot. One third of our regiment was gone. Great numbers were killed and wounded but the troops were as loyal and fought as bravely as any army on earth. This was Hood’s second defeat. In two battles, he had lost ten thousand men—more than we had lost in the whole campaign, in seventy-four days’ battles and skirmishes. It would not take long with such tactics to wipe out the rebel army.
July 29th we marched back to Atlanta. August 31st we marched to Jonesboro and on September 1st we moved to the right, threw up temporary works and Hardee’s corps fought the Battle of Jonesboro. Hood’s and Stewart’s corps were at Atlanta, twenty miles away, and we were entirely unsupported. We fought all day against seven corps of Yankees. We were surrounded and fought in front and in the rear. Fought as General Cleburne always fought. The Yankees charged our company seven lines deep, but our thin line held firm until some of the boys happened to discover a line of Infantry charging in the rear. Then they began to waver. Our Lieutenant Commander Clay jumped on top of the breastworks, waved his gun, (the sixteen-shooter which the officers of our company carried instead of sabres,) and called to his men to stand their ground. He was on the breastworks but a few minutes when he fell, pierced through by one of the thousand bullets fired at him. As he fell he saw for the first time why his men wavered. He ordered a hasty retreat to the right, and although dreadfullywounded successfully threw the line of battle to the rear. He fell in my arms and I got him to an ambulance and sent him to a hospital. In Macon we had only one commissioned officer left, John R. Loftin.
We would have been eaten up entirely, but for the coming of night, which gave Hardee a chance to unite his corps and throw up intrenchments. He displayed fine generalship throughout this engagement. Hardee had been offered the command of the army in Tennessee before Hood took it but had replied: “General Johnston is the only man able to command this army, and I will not have it.” Here was another terrible defeat for the new leader. Our loss at Jonesboro was about 2,500 men. The Yanks put our captured men on the train and sent them back over the old route. The fort at Dalton was garrisoned by negro troops. A great number of these negroes were at the station when the prisoners arrived. They insulted our men, and tried to take them from the train, yelling, “No quarter, if we get you on the field.” If white troops had not come to protect them there would have been serious trouble.
Our corps camped on the Macon road. It was a dark night and was raining heavily. By the flashes of lightning we saw the train of army ambulances coming out of Atlanta, and we heard female voices singing Dixie and other Southern songs. These were brave women, non-combatants, driven from their homes by the infamous order of Sherman. They had no shelter, no provision and only the clothes they wore. Some bore nursing babes and one woman gave birth to a Dixie boy in the wagon train. Yet these glorious women would not show anguish or cry out to please the demon general. They shouted for Dixie and sang on their dreary ride. They went further South out of range of the beast of a general. He burned Atlanta and made war on women and children for the rest of the way on his infamous “march to the sea.” As long as hehad Johnston to fight he had no time for his diabolical deeds.
September 12th we marched to Palmetto and camped there, and President Davis came to review his thrice defeated army. Beforehand a general order was read, that no cheers should be given on this review. Never-the-less, when Davis reached the center of the troops every man on the field joined in one mighty volume of sound, “Hurrah for General Johnston.” They knew it would be impossible to court martial the entire army.
October 1st we crossed the Chattahoochee river at Moore Bridge. October 9th we crossed the Talacatacline river and went up the railroad as far as Dalton held by the negroes who had promised “no quarter” to our boys. General Cheatham detailed our brigade to guard the wagon train through a different route about four miles from Dalton, while he took Granberry’s Brigade and our Texas troops to attack the fort. As we fought side by side in so many hard battles the Texas men asked that the Arkansas regiment (not on the ground) should have the honor of charging the fort, and this General Cheatham promised. He surrounded the fort and demanded its surrender. This was refused. While the artillery made ready the Texans passed the word down the line as though it came from General Cheatham, “Kill every damn one of them,” which would have been carrying out their own threat of “no quarter.” However, they saved their necks by five minutes, for when the white officers saw they were overwhelmingly surrounded they gave up. The prisoners were put to work at tearing up the railroad track. One of the negroes protested against the work as he was a sergeant. When he had paid the penalty for disobeying orders the rest tore up the road readily and rapidly. That evening the Texas command moved over to us. We heard them yelling and singing but we did not know what had happened. They were guarding the negro prisoners, and were calling to us, “Here are your ‘no quarter’ negroes,come and kill them!” The poor negroes, with eyes popped out nearly two inches, begged, prayed, and made all sorts of promises for the future. They soon moved on out of sight and the general turned them over to the engineering corps, where they did splendid service. This was better than killing them.
That day as the wagons were in skirmish line ready for attack we heard firing in front of our advance column. Everything stopped and we made ready for action. Advancing, we discovered the cause of the tumult. A squad of scouts, whose captain was a man with long red hair, had given a great deal of trouble to the Yankees in that vicinity. Because he was an Independent Scout he had been outlawed and a price was placed upon his head. He and his outlaws were desperate fellows and accepted “no quarter” clause. This squad was on our road and as it happened, met a squad of twenty-two Yankee scouts coming down the same road. The red-headed captain and his five men charged the superior squad, wounded six and killed four. The rest of the Yankees fled in haste. We were close upon them, so Red Head could not kill the wounded. He and his men took to the mountains and we never saw them again.
We passed through Cedar Town and Cave Spring, and camped on Coosa river. We passed through Center and camped on Terrapin Creek. We crossed Chuckluck mountains and camped at Jacksonville. We crossed Coosa at Gordon and camped on Sand mountain. We camped on Black Morgan river.
On October 27th we marched seven miles and camped in line around Decatur. It was a rainy night, so dark we could not see our file leader. If there were any roads we could not see them. It was impossible to finish the line of battle. The army had lost its way. I was standing beside the other boys holding to a small sapling when a new line came up, moving as best they could in a hog path, each man guessing at the way and calling to the man in front. A log about knee high lay across the path and I saw threedifferent soldiers strike that log and fall over it into the muddy slash. Each time the man’s gun went splashing ahead striking the fellow in front. There was cussin’ all along the line. Finally we ran out on the log and warned others who came along, turning them safely around that point. On October 28th we went further in, completed the line and fought the Battle of Decatur. The night after the battle it turned so cold we nearly froze to death, but we did not mind marching over frozen ground.
October 30th we marched thirty miles and passed Courtland, Alabama. On the 31st we marched twelve miles and camped at Tuscumbia. November 13th we crossed the Tennessee on a pontoon bridge at Florence. November 14th we built breastworks. On the 22nd we marched thirty-two miles and crossed the state line into Tennessee. On the 23rd we passed Warrenton, the 25th through Henryville, and the 26th through Mount Pleasant. We camped on General Pillow’s place. He had a grand old Southern home. A fine brick mansion, surrounded by beautiful groves with splendid driveways. He had his own church, a comfortable and pretty brick building. These cultured people of the best blood of the South lived in this ideal spot and educated their children by teachers who lived in the home. Two members of this family, Ed Pillow and J. D. Pillow, live in Helena, where they still keep up the family customs and traditions.
November 27th we marched nineteen miles and camped near Columbia. The enemy under Schofield had retreated from Mount Pleasant to Columbia and had entrenched in a formidable position. We went around them and crossing the Duck river on pontoon and rail bridges, we double-quicked to Spring Hill and engaged the enemy with Cleburne’s Division. Our regiment was one of the first in action, after the cavalry had skirmished with them. Night overtook us and we could not see to fight. Forrest wished to attack them, even in the night, but was notpermitted. As their force was much superior to ours, it would have been useless. Hood did not think they would retreat, but at daylight, when he began to complete his line, surrounding them, he discovered that they had flown to Franklin! With muffled cannon, silently and swiftly, Schofield had fled through the night.
Company G lost some good men at Spring Hill. We established a hospital there, with Dr. Brickie and Dr. Gray in charge to care for the wounded. We brought the ordnance from Columbia and followed the enemy.
The Yankees had been reinforced and had entrenched at Franklin, behind the works they had built some months before. In front of their works was an open field with not a tree or ravine for a mile and a half. Just before the breastworks was an open ditch six feet wide and three feet deep. At the end of the ditch next to the breastworks, were placed poles sharpened spear-shape. Their main works were six feet at the base. The cannon-breast portion was cut down so that the guns, resting on oak logs, were on a level with our bodies. Behind the whole was a thicket of locust trees, as close together as they could possibly grow. After the battle these trees were found to have been cut off level with the breastworks by Confederate balls.
As a description of this battle of Franklin, November 30, 1864, I insert an extract from the Park Marshall address delivered forty-eight years afterward:
“I was born at Franklin, and as a small boy I visited this battle field when the smoke had scarcely disappeared, and the impression of that morning is still in my memory. Without exaggeration I may say that the severest battle of modern history was fought on these plains. In the forefront of that battle there were not over 20,000 Union troops, not over 15,000 Confederates, yet the killed on one side was greater in two or three hours than occurred on any one day on one side in any other battle of the Civil War, except Antietam.