THE MARCH TO THE SEA.
SHERMAN MAKES ATLANTA A MILITARY DEPOT--HIS PECULIAR
POSITION--DISAFFECTION IN THE CONFEDERACY--HOOD ATTACKS THE
COMMUNICATIONS--DEFENCE OF ALLATOONA--THOMAS ORGANIZES AN
ARMY--SHERMAN DETERMINES TO GO DOWN TO THE SEA--DESTRUCTION IN
ATLANTA--THE ORDER OF MARCH--SHERMAN'S INSTRUCTIONS--THE
ROUTE--INCIDENTS--DESTRUCTION OF THE RAILROAD--KILLING THE
BLOODHOUNDS--THE BUMMERS--CAPTURE OF FORT McALLISTER--HARDEE EVACUATES
SAVANNAH, AND SHERMAN OFFERS IT AS A CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO THE
PRESIDENT--BATTLE OF FRANKLIN--BATTLE OF NASHVILLE--HOOD'S ARMY
DESTROYED.
Before Sherman's army had been a week in Atlanta he determined to send
away all the inhabitants of the city, giving each the choice whether
to go South or North, and furnishing transportation for a certain
distance. His reason for this measure is given briefly in his own
words: "I was resolved to make Atlanta a pure military garrison or
dépôt, with no civil population to influence military measures. I had
seen Memphis, Vicksburg, Natchez, and New Orleans, all captured from
the enemy, and each at once was garrisoned by a full division of
troops, if not more, so that success was actually crippling our armies
in the field by detachments to guard and protect the interests of a
hostile population." Of course this action met with a vigorous protest
from the people themselves, from the city authorities, and from
General Hood, between whom and General Sherman there was a sharp
correspondence discussing the humanity of the measure and to some
extent the issues of the war.
General Sherman also received a letter signed by the mayor and two of
the councilmen, in which they set forth the difficulties and
sufferings that the people would encounter, and asked him to
reconsider his order for their removal. This he answered at length,
presenting a broad view, not of Atlanta only, but of the entire
country, and the state of the war, and the effect that this would have
upon it. There were few generals on either side who understood the
entire aspect, military, political, moral, and economical, as
thoroughly, or describe it as clearly, as Sherman. He said:
"I give full credit to your statements of the distress that will be
occasioned, and yet shall not revoke my orders, because they were not
designed to meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for the
future struggles in which millions of good people outside of Atlanta
have a deep interest. We must have peace, not only at Atlanta, but in
all America. To secure this, we must stop the war that now desolates
our once happy and favored country. To stop war, we must defeat the
rebel armies which are arrayed against the laws and Constitution that
all must respect and obey. To defeat those armies, we must prepare the
way to reach them in their recesses, provided with the arms and
instruments which enable us to accomplish our purpose. Now, I know the
vindictive nature of our enemy, that we may have many years of
military operations from this quarter, and therefore deem it wise and
prudent to prepare in time. The use of Atlanta for warlike purposes is
inconsistent with its character as a home for families. There will be
no manufactures, commerce, or agriculture here, for the maintenance of
families, and sooner or later want will compel the inhabitants to go.
Why not go now, when all the arrangements are completed for the
transfer, instead of waiting till the plunging shot of contending
armies will renew the scenes of the past month? Of course I do not
apprehend any such thing at this moment, but you do not suppose this
army will be here until the war is over. I cannot discuss this subject
with you fairly, because I cannot impart to you what we propose to do;
but I assert that our military plans make it necessary for the
inhabitants to go away, and I can only renew my offer of services to
make their exodus in any direction as easy and comfortable as
possible.
"You cannot qualify war in harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty,
and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war into our country
deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know
I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more
sacrifices to-day than any of you to secure peace. But you cannot have
peace and a division of our country. If the United States submits to a
division now, it will not stop, but will go on until we reap the fate
of Mexico, which is eternal war. The United States does and must
assert its authority wherever it once had power; for, if it relaxes
one bit to pressure, it is gone, and I believe that such is the
national feeling. This feeling assumes various shapes, but always
comes back to that of Union. Once admit the Union, once more
acknowledge the authority of the National Government, and, instead of
devoting your houses and streets and roads to the dread uses of war, I
and this army become at once your protectors and supporters, shielding
you from danger, let it come from what quarter it may. I know that a
few individuals cannot resist a torrent of error and passion, such as
swept the South into rebellion; but you can point out, so that we may
know those who desire a government, and those who insist on war and
its desolation.
"You might as well appeal against the thunder-storm as against these
terrible hardships of war. They are inevitable; and the only way the
people of Atlanta can hope once more to live in peace and quiet at
home, is to stop the war, which can only be done admitting that it
began in error and is perpetuated in pride. We don't want your
negroes, or your horses, or your houses, or your lands, or anything
that you have, but we do want and will have a just obedience to the
laws of the United States. That we will have, and, if it involves the
destruction of your improvements, we cannot help it. You have
heretofore read public sentiment in your newspapers, that live by
falsehood and excitement; and the quicker you seek for truth in other
quarters, the better. I repeat, then, that, by the original compact of
government, the United States had certain rights in Georgia, which
have never been relinquished and never will be; that the South began
war by seizing forts, arsenals, mints, custom-houses, etc., long
before Mr. Lincoln was installed, and before the South had one jot or
tittle of provocation. I myself have seen in Missouri, Kentucky,
Tennessee, and Mississippi, hundreds and thousands of women and
children fleeing from your armies and desperadoes, hungry and with
bleeding feet. In Memphis, Vicksburg, and Mississippi, we fed
thousands upon thousands of the families of rebel soldiers left on our
hands, and whom we could not see starve. Now that war comes home to
you, you feel very different. You deprecate its horrors, but did not
feel them when you sent carloads of soldiers and ammunition, and
moulded shells and shot, to carry war into Kentucky and Tennessee, to
desolate the homes of hundreds and thousands of good people who only
asked to live in peace at their old homes and under the government of
their inheritance. But, my dear sirs, when peace does come, {420} you
may call on me for anything. Then I will share with you the last
cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and families against
danger from every quarter."
Among the considerations that influenced General Sherman's action at
that time, two appear to have been paramount--one a hope, the other a
fear. The fear was, that some portion of Hood's army would make a
serious break in his communications by destroying portions of the
long, single-track railroad over which he drew all his supplies from
Chattanooga. The hope was, that Georgia, seeing any further
prosecution of the war to be useless, would withdraw her troops from
the Confederate armies and practically secede from the Confederacy.
Some color was given to this from the fact that Gov. Joseph E. Brown
had recalled the Georgia militia from Hood's army, while Mr. Davis, on
a flying visit to that army, had made a speech in which he threw the
blame for the recent disasters upon General Johnston and Governor
Brown, and told the soldiers they were about to set out on a campaign
that would carry them to Tennessee and Kentucky. Sherman sent word to
Governor Brown that if Georgia's troops were withdrawn from the
Confederate service, he would pass across the State as harmlessly as
possible, and pay for all the corn and fodder that he took; but if
not, he would devastate the State through its whole length and
breadth.
[Illustration: HON. JOSEPH E. BROWN, Governor of Georgia.]
[Illustration: ALL THE LIVE STOCK LEFT ON McGILL'S FARM.]
In North Carolina there had been a strong movement for peace this
year, the only difference of opinion being as to the method in which
peace should be sought. The governor, Zebulon B. Vance, as a candidate
for reëlection, represented those who held that the State should only
act in coöperation with the other States that were engaged with her in
the war. The other party, whose candidate was William W. Holden, held
that North Carolina should assert her sovereignty and negotiate peace
directly and alone with the United States. Governor Vance probably
presented the decisive argument when he said: "Secession from the
Confederacy will involve us in a new war, a bloodier conflict than
that which we now deplore. So soon as you announce to the world that
you are a sovereign and independent nation, as a matter of course the
Confederate Government has a right to declare war against you, and
President Davis will make the whole State a field of battle and blood.
Old Abe would send his troops here also, because we would no longer be
neutral; and so, if you will pardon the expression, we would catch the
devil on all sides." At the election in August, Governor Vance
received fifty-four thousand votes, against twenty thousand for Mr.
Holden.
Georgia did not secede from the Confederacy, but Hood did attack the
communications. At every important point on the railroad there was a
strong guard, and at the bridges there were block-houses with small
but well-appointed garrisons. About the 1st of October Hood crossed
the Chattahoochee, going northward to strike the railroad. Sherman
hurried after him, and on the 5th looked down from Kenesaw Mountain
upon the fires that were burning the ties and heating the rails of a
dozen miles of his road. Anticipating an attack on Allatoona, which
was held by a small brigade under command of Lieut.-Col. John E.
Tourtellotte, he signalled over the heads of the enemy a message to
Allatoona conveying an order for Gen. John M. Corse, then at Rome, to
go to the relief of Tourtellotte with a strong force. Corse obeyed
promptly, going down with all the men he could obtain transportation
for, and arriving at midnight. In the morning the garrison, now nearly
two thousand strong, were summoned to surrender immediately, to avoid
a needless effusion of blood. General Corse answered, "We are prepared
for the needless effusion of blood whenever it is agreeable to you,"
and at once his men were attacked from all sides. They were driven
into their redoubts, and there made so determined a resistance that
after five hours of desperate fighting the Confederates withdrew,
leaving their dead and wounded on the field. Corse had lost seven
hundred and seven men out of his nineteen hundred and forty-four,
including Colonel Redfield, of the Thirty-ninth Iowa, killed, and had
himself suffered the loss of an ear and a cheek-bone. The total
Confederate loss is unknown; but Corse reported burying two hundred
and thirty-one of their dead, and taking four hundred and eleven
prisoners, which would indicate a total loss of sixteen hundred. This
successful defence of Allatoona was one of the most gallant affairs of
the kind in history.
General Thomas had previously been sent to Nashville with two
divisions, General Slocum was left in Atlanta with the Twentieth
Corps, and with the remainder of his forces Sherman pursued Hood
through the country between Rome and Chattanooga and westward of that
region. But he could not bring the Confederates to battle, and had
little expectation of overtaking them. He thinks he conceived of the
march to the sea some time in September; the first definite proposal
of it was in a telegram to General Thomas, on the 9th of October, in
which he said: "I want to destroy all the road below Chattanooga,
including Atlanta, and to make for the sea-coast. We cannot defend
this long line of road." In various despatches between that date and
the 2d of November, Sherman proposed the great march to Grant and to
the President. {421} Grant thought Hood's army should be destroyed
first, but finally said: "I do not see that you can withdraw from
where you are, to follow Hood, without giving up all we have gained in
territory. I say, then, go on as you propose." This was on the
understanding, suggested by Sherman, that Thomas would be left with
force enough to take care of Hood. Sherman sent him the Fourth and
Twenty-third Corps, commanded by Generals Stanley and Schofield, and
further reinforced him with troops that had been garrisoning various
places on the railroad, while he also received two divisions from
Missouri and some recruits from the North. These, when properly
organized, made up a very strong force; and, with Thomas at its head,
neither Sherman nor Grant felt any hesitation about leaving it to take
care of Tennessee.
[Illustration: ALLATOONA PASS, LOOKING NORTH. (From a war-time
photograph.)]
Sherman rapidly sent North all his sick and disabled men, and all
baggage that could be spared. Commissioners came and took the votes of
the soldiers for the Presidential election, and departed. Paymasters
came and paid off the troops, and went back again. Wagon trains were
put in trim and loaded for a march. Every detachment of the army had
its exact orders what to do; and as the last trains whirled over the
road to Chattanooga, the track was taken up and destroyed, the bridges
burned, the wires torn down, and all the troops that had not been
ordered to join Thomas concentrated in Atlanta. From the 12th of
November nothing more was heard from Sherman till Christmas.
The depot, machine-shops, and locomotive-house in Atlanta were all
torn down, and fire was set to the ruins. The shops had been used for
the manufacture of Confederate ammunition, {422} and all night the
shells were exploding in the midst of the ruin, while the fire spread
to a block of stores, and finally burned out the heart of the city.
With every unsound man and every useless article sent to the rear,
General Sherman now had fifty-five thousand three hundred and
twenty-nine infantrymen, five thousand and sixty-three cavalrymen, and
eighteen hundred and twelve artillerymen, with sixty-five guns. There
were four teams of horses to each gun, with its caisson and forge; six
hundred ambulances, each drawn by two horses; and twenty-five hundred
wagons, with six mules to each. Every soldier carried forty rounds of
ammunition, while the wagons contained an abundant additional supply
and twelve hundred thousand rations, with oats and corn enough to last
five days. Probably a more thoroughly appointed army was never seen,
and it is difficult to imagine one of equal numbers more effective.
Every man in it was a veteran, was proud to be there, and felt the
most perfect confidence that under the leadership of "Uncle Billy" it
would be impossible to go wrong.
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN M. CORSE.]
On the 15th of November they set out on the march to the sea, nearly
three hundred miles distant. The infantry consisted of four corps. The
Fifteenth and Seventeenth formed the right wing, commanded by Gen.
Oliver O. Howard; the Fourteenth and Twentieth the left, commanded by
Gen. Henry W. Slocum. The cavalry was under the command of Gen. Judson
Kilpatrick. The two wings marched by parallel routes, generally a few
miles apart, each corps having its own proportion of the artillery and
trains. General Sherman issued minute orders as to the conduct of the
march, which were systematically carried out. Some of the instructions
were these:
"The habitual order of march will be, wherever practicable, by four
roads, as nearly parallel as possible. The separate columns will start
habitually at seven A.M., and make about fifteen miles a day. Behind
each regiment should follow one wagon and one ambulance. Army
commanders should practise the habit of giving the artillery and
wagons the road, marching the troops on one side. The army will forage
liberally on the country during the march. To this end, each brigade
commander will organize a good and sufficient foraging party, who will
gather corn or forage of any kind, meat of any kind, vegetables, corn
meal, or whatever is needed by the command, aiming at all times to
keep in the wagons at least ten days' provisions. Soldiers must not
enter dwellings or commit any trespass; but, during a halt or camp,
they may be permitted to gather turnips, potatoes, and other
vegetables, and to drive in stock in sight of their camp. To corps
commanders alone is intrusted the power to destroy mills, houses,
cotton-gins, etc. Where the army is unmolested, no destruction of such
property should be permitted; but should guerillas or bushwhackers
molest our march, or should the inhabitants burn bridges, obstruct
roads, or otherwise manifest local hostility, then army commanders
should order and enforce a devastation more or less relentless,
according to the measure of such hostility. As for horses, mules,
wagons, etc., belonging to the inhabitants, the cavalry and artillery
may appropriate freely and without limit; discriminating, however,
between the rich, who are usually hostile, and the poor and
industrious, usually neutral or friendly. In all foraging, the parties
engaged will endeavor to leave with each family a reasonable portion
for their maintenance."
Thus equipped and thus instructed, the great army moved steadily, day
after day, cutting a mighty swath, from forty to sixty miles wide,
through the very heart of the Confederacy. The columns passed through
Rough and Ready, Jonesboro', Covington, McDonough, Macon,
Milledgeville, Gibson, Louisville, Millen, Springfield, and many
smaller places. The wealthier inhabitants fled at the approach of the
troops. The negroes in great numbers swarmed after the army, believing
the long-promised day of jubilee had come. Some of them seemed to have
an intelligent idea that the success of the National forces meant
destruction of slavery, while most of them had but the vaguest notions
as to the whole movement. One woman, with a child in her arms, walking
along among the cattle and horses, was accosted by an officer, who
asked her, "Where are you going, aunty?" "I'se gwine whar you's gwine,
massa." One party of black men, who had fallen into line, called out
to another who seemed to be asking too many questions, "Stick in dar!
It's all right. We'se gwine along; we'se free." Major George Ward
Nichols describes an aged couple whom he saw in a hut near
Milledgeville. The old negress, pointing her long finger at the old
man, who was in the corner of the fireplace, hissed out, "What fer you
sit dar? You s'pose I wait sixty years for nutten? Don't yer see de
door open? I'se follow my child; I not stay; I walks till I drop in my
tracks."
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL NATHAN KIMBALL.]
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL N. C. McLEAN.]
The army destroyed nearly the whole of the Georgia Central Railroad,
burning the ties, and heating and twisting the rails. As they had
learned that a rail merely bent could be straightened and used again,
a special tool was invented with which a {423} red-hot rail could be
quickly twisted like an auger, and rendered forever useless. They also
had special appliances for tearing up the track methodically and
rapidly. All the depot buildings were in flames as soon as the column
reached them. As the bloodhounds had been used to track escaped
prisoners, the men killed all that they could find.
The foraging parties--or "bummers," as they were popularly
called--went out for miles on each side, starting in advance of the
organizations to which they belonged, gathered immense quantities of
provisions, and brought them to the line of march, where each stood
guard over his pile till his own brigade came along. The progress of
the column was not allowed to be interrupted for the reception of the
forage, everything being loaded upon the wagons as they moved. The
"flankers" were thrown out on either side, passing in thin lines
through the woods to prevent any surprise by the enemy, while the
mounted officers went through the fields to give the road to the
troops and trains.
The only serious opposition came from Wheeler's Confederate cavalry,
which hung on the flanks of the army and burned some bridges, but was
well taken care of by Kilpatrick's, who generally defeated it when
brought to an encounter. There was great hope that Kilpatrick would be
able to release the prisoners of war confined in Millen, but when he
arrived there he found that they had been removed to some other part
of the Confederacy. When the advance guard was within a few miles of
Savannah there was some fighting with infantry, and a pause before the
defences of the city.
Fort McAllister, which stood in the way of communication with the
blockading fleet, was elaborately protected with ditches, palisades,
and _chevaux-de-frise_; but Gen. William B. Hazen's division made
short work with it, going straight over everything and capturing the
fort on the 13th of December, losing ninety-two men in the assault,
and killing or wounding about fifty of the garrison. That night
General Sherman, with a few officers, pulled down the river in a yawl
and visited a gunboat of the fleet in Ossabaw Sound. Four days later,
having established full communication, Sherman demanded the surrender
of the city of Savannah, which Gen. William J. Hardee, who was in
command there with a considerable force, refused. Sherman then took
measures to make its investment complete; but on the morning of the
21st it was found to be evacuated by Hardee's forces, and Gen. John W.
Geary's division of the Twentieth Corps marched in. The next day
Sherman wrote to the President: "I beg to present you as a Christmas
gift the city of Savannah, with one hundred and fifty heavy guns and
plenty of ammunition, also about twenty-five thousand bales of
cotton." Sherman's entire loss in the march had been seven hundred and
sixty-four men.
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL PETER J. OSTERHAUS.]
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL BENJAMIN HARRISON. COLONEL DANIEL
DUSTIN. BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM T. WARD. BREVET BRIGADIER-GENERAL
WILLIAM COGGSWELL.]
That phase of war which reaches behind the armies in the field and
strikes directly at the sources of supply, bringing home its burdens
and its hardships to men who are urging on the conflict without
participating in it, was never exhibited on a grander scale or
conducted with more complete success. This, in fact, is the most
humane kind of war, since it accomplishes the purpose with the least
destruction of life and limb. Sherman's movement across Georgia
naturally brings to mind another famous march to the sea; but that was
a retreat of ten thousand, while this was a victorious advance of
sixty thousand; and it was only in their shout of welcome, _Thalatta!
thalatta!_ ("The sea! the sea!") that the weary and disheartened
Greeks resembled Sherman's triumphant legions.
{424} [Illustration: CONFEDERATE WORKS BEFORE ATLANTA. (From a
Government photograph.)]
The condition of affairs in Georgia, as seen by the residents, just
before and at the time of Sherman's great march, has been vividly
described by the Rev. J. Ryland Kendrick, who was pastor of a church
in Charleston when the war broke out, and two years later removed to
Madison, Ga. He says:
"In passing from South Carolina to Georgia one could hardly fail to be
immediately conscious of breathing a somewhat larger and freer
atmosphere. The great mass of the people in the latter State were
perhaps no less ardent in their zeal for the {425} Confederate cause
than those of the former, but still there was among them more latitude
of opinion, and criticisms on the political and military status were
not so rigorously repressed. Owing to her greater extent of territory,
her less aristocratic civil institutions, and her more composite
population, Georgia had long been characterized by a broader spirit of
tolerance than South Carolina, and she manifested that spirit during
the war. Not a few might be found in almost any community who had no
heart in the pending conflict, and little faith in its successful
issue. Besides, her governor, Joseph E. Brown, early showed a
disposition to do his own thinking, and to take ground which was not
always pleasing to the autocratic will of Jefferson Davis. This
naturally encouraged freedom of thought and utterance among the people
at large.
"At the beginning of 1863 I received a call to the pastorate of the
Baptist church in Madison, a village on the Georgia railroad, and made
my home there for the remainder of the war. It was an ideal refuge
amidst the storm and stress of the time, especially for a man with my
peculiar convictions. The village was one of the pleasantest and most
attractive in the State, comprising in its population a considerable
number of wealthy, educated, and refined families, a large share of
which belonged to my church. In the ante-bellum days it had been
distinguished as an educational centre for girls, with two flourishing
seminaries--one Baptist, the other Methodist. When I went there the
war had closed both of them. Just on the line which divides the upper
from the lower country, Madison was as remote from the alarms of war
as any place in the war-girdled South could well be, and fairly
promised to be about the last spot which the invaders would strike. To
its various attractions Madison added, for me, one other, which at the
time was not generally esteemed an attraction at all, but rather a
serious reproach. I refer to its reputation for somewhat lax loyalty
to the Confederacy. It was known throughout the State as a town much
given to croaking and criticism, with a suspicion of decided
disaffection on the part of some of its leading citizens. Foremost
among these sullen and recalcitrant Madisonians was Col. Joshua Hill,
familiarly known as 'Josh Hill,' confessedly the most prominent man in
the community, and about as much at odds with the Confederate
Government as one could well be without provoking the stroke of its
iron hand. He had been a member of the United States Congress when the
secession fury began, and having stuck to his post as long as possible
finally retired from it in a regular and honorable way.
"Preaching as I did only on Sunday mornings, I often availed myself of
the opportunity to attend, in the after-part of that day, the
religious services of the colored people; sometimes preaching to them
myself, but more commonly listening to the preachers of their own
race. While, as might be expected, there was a sad lack of any real
instruction in their pulpit performances, there was superabundance of
fervor and not a little of genuine oratorical effectiveness.
"It interested me especially, in these meetings of the colored people,
to watch their attitude toward the pending war, in whose issues they
had so great a stake, and by which they were placed in an extremely
delicate relation to their masters. Their shrewdness was simply
amazing. Their policy was one of reserve and silence. They rarely
referred to the war in their sermons or prayers, and when they did
mention it they used broad terms which meant little and compromised
nobody. Of course they could not betray sympathy for the invaders, but
they certainly exhibited none for the other side. To any keen observer
their silence was significant enough, but nobody cared to evoke their
real sentiments. The subtlest sagacity could not have dictated a more
prudent line of conduct than that which their instincts chose. Indeed,
the conduct of the colored people through the whole war, whose import
they vaguely but truly divined, was admirable, and such as to merit
the eternal gratitude of the Southern whites. Under the most tempting
opportunities, outrages upon women and children were never fewer,
petty crimes were not increased, and of insurrectionary movements, so
far as I knew, there were absolutely none, while the soil was never
tilled with more patient and faithful industry. No doubt their conduct
was largely determined by a shrewd comprehension of the situation, as
well as by their essential kindliness of nature. They understood that
bodies of soldiery were never far away, and that any uprising would be
speedily and remorselessly crushed. They knew, too, that it was wiser
to wait for the coming of 'Massa Linkum's' legions, whose slow
approach could not be concealed from them.
"If the colored people dimly saw that their deliverance was
approaching with the advance of the Federal armies, the faith of the
whites in the perpetuity of the divine institution lingered long and
died hard. It seemed to them impossible that this institution should
come to an end. Indeed, there was manifested on the part of some very
good and devout people a disposition to hazard their faith in the
veracity of God and the Bible on the success of the Southern arms. The
Bible, they argued, distinctly sanctioned slavery, and if slavery
should be overthrown by the failure of the South the Bible would be
fatally discredited.
"In those trying days some few compensations came to us for the
deprivations inflicted by the blockade. For one thing, the tyranny of
fashion was greatly abated. Style was little thought of, and fine
ladies were made happy by the possession of an English or French
calico gown. For another thing, cut off from magazines, reviews, and
cheap yellow-covered literature, and with newspapers so curtailed of
their ordinary proportions that they were taken in at a _coup d'oeil_,
we were driven back upon old standard books. I suspect that among the
stay-at-homes a larger amount of really good, solid reading was done
during the war than in the previous decade. Now and then a contraband
volume slipped through the blockade, and was eagerly sought after.
Somehow, a copy of Buckle's 'History of Civilization' got into my
neighborhood, and had a wide circulation. Victor Hugo's 'Les
Misérables' appeared among us in a shocking edition, printed, I think,
in New Orleans.
"The ever-beginning, never-ending topic of conversation was the war,
with its incidents and prospects. We breakfasted, dined, and supped on
startling reports of victories or defeats, and vague hints of
prodigious things shortly to occur. It is noteworthy that our reports
were almost uniformly of victories, frequently qualified by the slow
and reluctant admission that, having won a brilliant success, the
Confederate forces at last fell back. This trick of disguising defeat
came, after a while, to be so well understood, that 'to conquer and
fall back' was tossed about as a grim jest.
"As the tide of war surged southward, and at last reached Chattanooga,
our village, like nearly all others on railway lines, became a
hospital station, and the large academy was appropriated to the sick
and wounded.
"After the battle of Chickamauga great trains of cars came lumbering
through our town, crowded with Union captives. They were a sad sight
to look upon. Standing one day by the {426} track as such a train was
slowly passing, the irrepressible prisoners shouted to me, 'Old Rosey
will be along here soon!' 'Old Rosey' never came, but 'Uncle Billy' in
due time put in an unmistakable appearance, which more than fulfilled
what at the moment seemed the prediction of mere reckless bravado.
"During the summer of 1864 our secluded little village was rudely
shaken by its first experience in the way of invasion. After steadily
pushing back the Confederate columns, Sherman had at last reached
Atlanta, and his hosts were in fact only about seventy miles away from
us. In certain conditions of the atmosphere we could hear the dull,
heavy thunder of his guns. Yet, strangely enough, this proximity of
war in its sternest form created no panic among us. In fact, a kind of
paralysis now benumbed the sensibilities of the people. The back of
the Confederacy had been definitely broken in the preceding summer by
the battle of Gettysburg. Nearly all discerning persons were conscious
of this, and but for the foreordained and blind obstinacy of Jefferson
Davis and his satellites efforts would have been made to save the
South from utter wreck. Alexander H. Stephens was understood to
entertain very definite ideas as to the hopeless and disastrous course
of events under Davis's policy.
"On a hot July morning I was sitting, Southern fashion, with a number
of gentlemen before a store just outside of the public square. We were
canvassing a strange rumor which had just reached us, to the effect
that Yankee soldiers had been seen not far from the town. At that
moment a man from the country rode up to our group, and, hearing the
topic of conversation, generously offered to 'eat all the Union
soldiers within ten miles of Madison.' Scarcely had he uttered these
reassuring words when a man in uniform galloped into the square. Now,
we said, we shall get trustworthy information, thinking that this was
a Confederate scout. In a moment, however, another cavalryman dashed
around the corner, and fired a pistol at a fugitive clad in
Confederate gray. The truth instantly flashed upon us, and with a cry
of '_Yankees!_' we all sprang to our feet. Not much alarmed myself, I
called to my friends, 'Don't run!' but the most of them, disregarding
my advice, took themselves off in remarkably quick time. The strange
intruders, coming upon us as suddenly as if they had dropped out of
the summer sky, now poured into the square and overflowed all the
streets. Boldly standing my ground, I approached the first officer I
could make out, and requested permission to go at once to my home on
the outskirts of the village. He informed me that I must wait until
the arrival of the colonel in command. So it was that for a space of
five or ten minutes I may be said to have been a prisoner under the
flag of my country. The colonel soon rode up, a stalwart,
square-built, kindly-faced Kentuckian--Colonel Adams, as I afterward
learned--who promptly granted my request, and directed an officer to
see me safe through the crowd of soldiers. At my gate I found two or
three soldiers, quietly behaved, and simply asking for food.
Gratefully receiving such as we could give them, they departed,
leaving us quite unharmed.
"In November an important ministerial service called me to
southwestern Georgia, and, as all seemed quiet about Atlanta, I
hesitatingly ventured, accompanied by my wife, upon the journey.
Starting homeward after a few days, we reached Forsyth, and paused
there on the edge of the desert. For a desert it was that stretched
for some sixty miles between us and Madison, a _terra incognita_, over
which no adventurous explorer had passed since Sherman's legions had
blotted out all knowledge of it. Only wild rumors filled the air. At
last a friend took the serious risk of letting us have his carriage,
with a pair of mules and a negro driver, for the perilous journey.
Having crossed the Ocmulgee, we at once struck the track of Sherman's
army, his right, under Howard, having kept near the river. In that
day's ride we met on the road but one human being--a negro on
horseback. A white woman rushed frantically from her little cabin to
inquire if any more Yankees were coming, a question which I ventured
to answer with a very confident negative. Rather late in the
afternoon, as we were passing a pleasant farm-house, a gentleman came
out to our carriage and with a very solemn voice and manner warned us
against going any further. He had just been informed that ten thousand
Yankee soldiers were at somebody's mills, not far away, and he
declared that we were driving straight into their ranks. This
staggered me for a moment. But a little reflection convinced me of the
violent improbability of the rumor, and a little further reflection
determined me to go on. From that moment to the evening hour when we
drew up before a planter's house to spend the night, we saw not a
human being, scarcely a living thing. Indeed, the wide, dead silence
was the most marked sign that we {427} were in the path over which a
few days before a great army had passed. The road here and there was
considerably cut up, showing that heavy wagons had recently gone over
it. Fences were frequently down or missing, and two or three heaps of
blackened ruins, surmounted by solitary chimneys, denoted that the
torch had done some destructive work. The next day, in passing through
Monticello, I saw the charred remains of the county jail, but the
signs of conflagration were surprisingly few.
"The family with whom we spent the night had had the strange
experience of being for a while in the midst of an encamped army. The
soldiers, they informed us, had swarmed about them like bees, but had
behaved as well as soldiers commonly do. The planter's horses and
cattle had been freely appropriated, and as much of his corn and
vegetables as were needed; but there was no complaint of violence or
rudeness, and an ample supply of the necessaries of life was left for
his household. Indeed, from my observations in this trip across the
line of Sherman's march, that march, so far from having been
signalized by wanton destruction, was decidedly merciful. No doubt
bummers and camp followers committed many atrocities, but the progress
of the army proper was attended by no unusual incidents of severity.
The year had been one of exceptional bounty, and there was no want in
Sherman's rear. Such was the plenty that I believe he might have
retraced his steps and subsisted his army on the country.
"On reaching Madison we found the place substantially intact. Not a
house had been destroyed, not a citizen harmed or insulted. The
greatest sufferers from the invasion were the turkeys and chickens.
The country was thickly strewn with the feathers of these slaughtered
innocents. When I expressed to a friend some doubt as to Sherman's
ability to reach the sea, he replied, 'If you had been here and seen
the sort of men composing his cohorts, you would not question that
they could go wherever they had a mind to.'
"Our life between the time of Sherman's march and Lee's surrender,
with the scenes and incidents that attended and followed that
surrender, was as strange and abnormal as a bad dream. We had, indeed,
an abundance of the necessary articles of food and clothing. I have
hardly ever lived in more physical comfort than during the last year
of the war. The few fowls that had escaped the voracious appetites of
the invaders soon provided a fresh supply of chickens and eggs. Coffee
at twenty-five dollars a pound (Confederate money), and sugar at not
much less cost, were attainable, and I managed to keep a fair supply
of them for my little family. But though our physical conditions were
tolerable, life was subject to a painful strain of uncertainty and
anxiety, relieved only by the conviction that the war, of which all
were weary and sick unto death, was nearly over. When the end came,
confusion was confounded in a jumble so bewildering as scarcely to be
credited with reality. The town streets and country roads were full of
negroes, wandering about idle and aimless, going they knew not
whither--a pitiful spectacle of enfranchised slaves dazed by their
recent boon of liberty. Presently Union soldiers were everywhere. A
German colonel, lately a New York broker, moved among us in the
spick-and-span bravery of his uniform, the sovereign arbiter of our
destinies. The world had rarely presented such a topsy-turvy condition
of things, half tragical, half comical.
"As soon as matters had sufficiently quieted down to warrant it, I
resolved on a visit to my Northern friends, toward whom my heart
yearned. My point of departure was Atlanta, still a desolation of
falling walls, blackened chimneys, and almost undistinguishable
streets. How queer it was to be again in the great world! How splendid
Nashville, Louisville, and Cincinnati appeared, with their brilliant
gaslights, crowded thoroughfares, showy shop windows, and fashionably
dressed people! Evidently war here, whatever it had meant of sorrow
and deprivation, had not been war as we had known it in the
beleaguered, invaded, blockaded South. This prosperity was all but
incredible when contrasted with Southern poverty, distress, and
desolation."[1]
[Footnote 1: _Atlantic Monthly_ for October, 1889.]
[Illustration: MAP OF THE THEATRE OF OPERATIONS COVERED BY THE BATTLES
OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE. By permission of Dick & Fitzgerald, New
York. From "Twelve Decisive Battles of the War."]
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL GUSTAVUS W. SMITH, C. S. A.]
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL JOHN T. MORGAN, C. S. A.]
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL BENJAMIN F. CHEATHAM, C. S. A.]
{428} [Illustration: POTTER HOUSE, ATLANTA--SHOWING EFFECT OF
ARTILLERY FIRE. (From a Government photograph.)]
When Hood found that he could not lure Sherman away from Atlanta, or
make him loose his hold upon that prize of his long campaign, he
turned toward Nashville, under orders from Richmond, hoping to destroy
the army that Thomas was organizing. He was hindered by heavy rains,
and it was late in November when he arrived at Duck River, about forty
miles south of the city. Here he found a force, under Gen. John M.
Schofield, which was easily flanked by crossing the river, whereupon
Schofield fell back to Franklin, on Harpeth River, eighteen miles from
Nashville, intrenched a line south and west of the town, with both
flanks resting on bends of the river, and got his artillery and trains
across the stream, placing the guns where they could play upon any
attacking force. Schofield had about twenty-five thousand men, and
Hood over forty thousand. In the afternoon of November 30 the attack
was made. Schofield's rear guard, consisting of Wagner's brigade,
instead of falling back to the main body, as ordered, so as to permit
the fire of the whole line to be poured into the advancing enemy,
attempted to withstand the Confederate onset. Of course it was quickly
swept back, {429} and as the men rushed in confusion into the lines
they were closely followed by the enemy, who captured a portion of the
intrenchments. From a part of the line thus seized they were driven in
turn, but they clung tenaciously to the remainder, and Schofield
established a new line a few rods in the rear.
[Illustration: BREVET BRIGADIER-GENERAL JOSEPH W. FISHER.]
[Illustration: CAPTAIN JOSEPH B. FORAKER. (Afterward Governor of
Ohio.)]
Hood's orders to his corps and division commanders were that they were
to drive the National army into Harpeth River, while Forrest's cavalry
was to cross the river above, sweep down upon the trains, and destroy
or capture whatever remnant should have succeeded in crossing the
stream. General Schofield did not believe that the attack upon so
strong a position would be made in front; he looked for a flank
movement, and accordingly, when the battle took place, he was on the
north side of the river making arrangements for an adequate means of
crossing in case of such movement. But he gave Hood credit for more
generalship than he ever possessed. Hood never seemed to have a
conception of any method of conducting a battle except by driving his
men straight up against the guns and intrenchments of the enemy. In
this instance, although he possessed an abundance of artillery, only
two batteries were with him. Schofield's line was about a mile and a
half long, running through the suburbs of the little town which lay in
the bend of the river. The town was approached by three roads, from
the southeast, south, and southwest, and along these converging roads
Hood pushed the twenty-two thousand men that he brought into the
fight. The immediate commander on the field of the National forces was
Gen. Jacob D. Cox, who showed himself a masterly tactician and
inspiring leader. The works were well planned and very strong, and as
the reckless Hood pushed his doomed men up against them they were
swept down by front-fire and cross-fire, musketry and artillery, in
ghastly heaps along the whole line. When the advanced line was driven
back and the centre temporarily broken, the exultant Confederates
imagined they were to have everything their own way; and as their
divisions came in on converging lines they were crowded together in
great masses, through which the fire of the artillery from right and
left, as well as the musketry, played with terrible effect. Two
companies of one Kentucky regiment were armed with repeating rifles,
and their fire alone was equal to that of five hundred ordinary
infantrymen. A participant describing the scene at this time says:
"From Stiles's and Casement's brigades a blaze of fire leaped from the
breastworks and played so incessantly that it appeared to those who
saw it as if it had formed a solid plane upon which a man might walk;"
and a Confederate staff officer describes it as "a continuous living
fringe of flame." Lieutenant Speed, of the Twelfth Kentucky Regiment,
says: "The artillery in the line played incessantly, hurling double
charges of grape over the field. From Casement and Stiles to the left
there was an unabated roar of musketry, which now was continued with
intensified fury along Reilly's line up to the pike, and swelled with
terrific grandeur along the front all the way to Carter's Creek pike.
Along Reilly's line it was a desperate hand-to-hand conflict.
Sometimes it seemed that the masses of the assailants would overwhelm
all opposition. The struggle was across and over the breastworks. The
standards of both armies were upon them at the same time. Muskets
flashed in men's faces. Officers fought with the men, musket in hand.
The Confederates were at a disadvantage on account of the ditch
outside the works, which they could not cross under the blinding storm
of lead. Bewildered and confused, they, who had a moment before
shouted the cry of victory, could now only receive death and
destruction in the most appalling form. In this immediate front the
Confederate loss was heavier than at any other point. Here Cleburne
fell, almost up to the works; also Granberry and Quarles. The ditch
outside the works was filled with killed and wounded men. Confederate
officers who witnessed their removal next morning have stated that in
places they were piled five deep." The Confederates made in rapid
succession so many charges against the new line of works where they
had broken the first line, that witnesses differed as to their number.
Some counted fourteen, and none counted fewer than ten. But all were
in vain. In this action the National troops expended a hundred wagon
loads of ammunition, and as the smoke did not rise readily it seemed
as if the darkness {430} of night were coming on prematurely. No doubt
this circumstance contributed largely to the terrible losses of the
Confederates. Forrest's cavalry, which was expected to cross the river
and capture Schofield's trains, did not accomplish anything. The
reason given for its inaction was lack of ammunition. In this brief
and bloody encounter Hood lost more than one-third of his men engaged.
His killed numbered one thousand seven hundred and fifty. The number
of his wounded can only be computed, but it is not probable that they
were fewer than seven thousand. Major Sanders, of the Confederate
army, estimates the loss in two of the brigades at sixty-five per
cent. These losses included Major-Gen. Patrick R. Cleburne and
Brig.-Gens. John Adams, Oscar F. Strahl, S. R. Gist, and H. B.
Granberry, all killed; also six general officers wounded and one
captured; and more than thirty colonels and lieutenant-colonels were
killed or wounded. Schofield lost two thousand five hundred men, and
his army took seven hundred prisoners and thirty-three stands of
colors. At midnight Schofield crossed the river and retreated to
Nashville. Hood followed him, and there confronted the whole of
Thomas's army. Schofield has been criticised for thus retreating after
his victory; but if he had remained at Franklin the conditions for a
battle the next day would have been materially changed. Hood brought
up all his artillery in the night, intending to open upon the works in
the morning, and it is not probable that Forrest's vigorous cavalry
would have remained inactive another day.
[Illustration: SHERMAN'S FORAGERS ON A GEORGIA PLANTATION.]
Everybody complained of Thomas's slowness, and he was in imminent
danger of being superseded; but he would not assume the offensive till
he felt that his army was prepared to make sure work. When all was
ready, he still had to delay because of bad weather; but on the 15th
of December (one day after Sherman reached the sea) the long-meditated
blow was given. Thomas's army advanced against Hood's, striking it
simultaneously in front and on the left flank. The weight of the
attack fell upon the flank, which was completely crushed, and a part
of the intrenchments with their guns fell into the hands of the
National forces. In the night Hood retreated a mile or two, to another
line on the hills, made some new dispositions, and awaited attack. He
was seriously embarrassed by the absence of a large part of Forrest's
cavalry, which should have been protecting his flanks. In the
afternoon of the 16th, Thomas, having sent Wilson's cavalry around the
enemy's left flank, attacked with his whole force. He made no headway
against Hood's right, but again he crushed the left flank, and
followed up the advantage so promptly and vigorously that all
organization in the Confederate army was lost, and what was left of it
fled in wild confusion toward Franklin, pursued by Wilson's cavalry.
Thomas captured all their artillery and took forty-five hundred
prisoners. The number of their killed and wounded was never reported.
His own loss was about three thousand. Brig.-Gen. Sylvester G. Hill
was among the killed.
{431}