said "he had orders to leave one company in the position our regiment
had occupied during the battle, and concluded that company B must be the
one." The order was, "that we stay at the ford until orders were
received to abandon it;" said, "he would send back an orderly to notify
us when we could leave;" said, "we might all be captured," and he bade
me an affectionate farewell when he rode away. If any one doubts that
this was an anxious hour for us, he does not duly appreciate the
situation. It would have been nothing for mounted men, but we were
footmen and expected the enemy would send out a squadron of cavalry at
daybreak to ascertain what had become of those that had punished them so
the day before. We listened to the last footfall until it died away up
the stone pike toward Nashville, then all was still. I then went along
the line and told each one of the boys that when we were relieved, or if
attacked before the order came, we would about-face and move back in our
present order, deployed as skirmishers. About three-fourths of a mile to
the south on a gentle elevation was a poplar grove, and I insisted to
the boys that if we could maintain our line, in case of an attack,
either before or after the order of relief came, we could make a
splendid fight even against cavalry in those woods. I knew I could rely
upon the boys. I knew any 124th man could be relied upon during the
war—and since. Then we had nothing to do but wait. Not a sound was heard
across the river in Franklin, in the direction of the enemy. Sodom and
Gomorrah were not stiller after they received the sulphurous shower,
than was that intensely rebel village and their friends near the hills
beyond. The day-god began to streak the east with his golden rays, and
still no order came. No cheerful cockcrowing was heard as a harbinger of
the dawning day. The last rooster in the confederacy had been eliminated
long years before. Day began to break, and we strained our eyes up and
down the river and in the direction of Franklin, to see the approaching
foe, but all was still as death. Had we been forgotten? Had something
happened to the orderly? What good could we do by staying? But the order
was imperative, "stay until ordered away," and orders must be obeyed,
even if the brave men on this severe duty were relegated to captivity.
It was now broad daylight, and no orderly in sight. But no rebel cavalry
in sight either. The situation was strangely interesting in the extreme.
All at once we heard the ringing clatter of a horse's hoofs, and looking
up the pike—coming down the hill at breakneck pace—_came the orderly at
last_. Talk about sweet strains of music—not Theodore Thomas' orchestra,
rendering one of Beethoven's symphonies, could ever sound as sweetly as
the ringing of those hoof-beats on that limestone pike that October
morning. Riding up to me he said: "Captain, remove your men," and
turning his steed toward Nashville was soon out of sight over the hill.
We immediately began to _remove_. The order was obeyed, not only with
willingness, but with wonderous alacrity. We double-quicked in line
until we came to the poplar grove, when we, seeing no signs of pursuit,
came into column on the pike, and with a long step toward the front, and
a sharp lookout toward the rear, we rapidly measured off the miles in
the direction of Nashville. About eight o'clock that morning we came up
with the rear guard, and soon the balance of the regiment, making coffee
and breakfasting by the road side. We were greeted by the colonel and
the regiment with exclamations of joy. I told the colonel I was afraid
he had forgotten us, but he insisted we had not been out of his mind a
minute since he left us, which I have no doubt was true. But when the
facts came to be known, we were not in the least danger. Had we known at
that time that old Corporal Hood had so kindly sent all of his cavalry
away to Murfreesborough, where they could do him no good, and us no
possible harm, we would have stayed, made coffee, and eaten breakfast
before starting. In fact, I have no doubt some of the boys would have
been over in the village looking for "Robinson County," where they used
to find it while on picket months before. But, all in all, a portion of
the old 124th were the last union soldiers to leave Franklin, after the
bloody battle of the thirtieth of October, 1864.
But war has its sad features, even for an enemy as dishonorable and as
thoroughly hated as were the rebels. The beautiful village of Franklin
was riddled with shot and shell. The great cotton field to the south was
thickly covered with the graves of the confederate soldiers. The two
brothers of the sweet singer of rebel songs were both killed within a
few rods of their dear old home. But on the other hand, Miss Sally
Atkinson, after the war, _became the kind and loving wife of an officer
on General Thomas' staff, emblematical of the restored Union_.
The thirty-first we marched to Nashville, and the first of December took
our position on the line extending around the city, from the Tennessee
above to the river below. The line was a long one and necessarily thin.
Everything was in a bustle of excitement in the city. Hood was expected
to arrive and invest the city every hour. The gunboats were busy puffing
up and down the river looking after the flanks of our lines and the
various fords above and below. Every soldier in the hospitals that could
possibly perform duty was sent to the front. All the laborers that were
enlisted as such, and everyone that could use a pick and shovel, was
pressed into the service and set at work on the intrenchments. Every
private horse in the city was taken for the cavalry or artillery. The
right of ownership of private property, as applied to horseflesh, was in
no sense respected. Dan Castello's circus was performing at Nashville at
the time, and every horse was confiscated. Mrs. Lake's celebrated trick
horse, Czar, was the only one left, and that was undoubtedly owing to
the feeling of chivalry every true soldier has for a lady. We had been
in Nashville two days, I think, when Hood came up very leisurely and
formed his lines well out from ours. He did not act like business, and
evidently had not recovered from the terrible drubbing he had received
at Franklin. It was now midwinter in the climate of Tennessee, the mud
was deep, and it rained and sleeted almost every day. Hood did not even
ask for a skirmish, and his was the saddest army of investment that ever
encompassed a city. General Thomas was busy issuing clothing to his
army, and especially shoes, as our foot gear had been sadly demoralized
by the long march over stony roads and railway tracks back from Atlanta.
Our portion of the line ran in front of the Acklin Place, a charming
villa residence, built at an expense of a million and a half of dollars.
The owner was a Mr. Acklin, a wealthy Englishman, who, at his own
expense, fully armed and equipped a regiment of confederate infantry,
named for him "The Acklin Rifles." This Mr. Acklin _was not at home_, so
General Thomas took his spacious mansion for corps and division
headquarters. I am satisfied that never before was army headquarters so
ornamented with such paintings and marbles. We, on the outside, were
equally well off, for the spacious grounds were surrounded by nicely
built stone walls that were worked into chimneys noiselessly as was the
building of Solomon's Temple, and though not quite as ornamental, were
quite as useful, as that fabled temple of the olden time. The ornamental
trees did not make first-rate firewood on account of being green, but we
had not time for them to dry, and had to get along with them as best we
could. Here we had plenty of rations; and vegetables of all kinds were
issued to us in great abundance. The greatest evil we were compelled to
suffer, while here, was the sale of intoxicating liquor to the soldiers
in the city. The large majority of our regiment were reasonably
temperate men; but, I am sorry to be compelled to say that there was a
large amount of drunkenness in the army that made the men difficult to
control, and caused very many to lose their lives. Drunken officers in
command was a terrible evil.
I suppose no city in the United States ever had so bad a population as
the city of Nashville during the winter of 1864-5. The thieves, gamblers
and disreputable of both sexes, swarmed in from all over the country,
and at one time the demimonde became such a plague that General Thomas
loaded a steamboat with them and sent them to Louisville, but the
authorities there refused to let them land, and what became of them I
never knew; it may be they were destroyed for the good of the service.
It was no uncommon thing to find two or more dead soldiers, murdered in
an unsavory locality known as Smoky Row, every morning, and the original
inhabitants of the city were none too good to murder a union soldier if
they found him in a condition not to be able to take care of himself. If
there ever was a city that should have been disposed of as Atlanta and
Columbia were, that city was Nashville. But things were getting ripe for
action. Every day troops in squads, detachments and regiments, were
coming in by river and by rail. The 17th Army Corps, commanded by that
gray-headed old hero (noted for his choice (?) English), General A. J.
Smith, came up and took position at the right of our corps. General
Stedman, that did such good work with the reserve corps at Chickamauga,
commanded a division of colored troops on the extreme left, while more
artillery than was ever before made ready for battle, was being put into
position. There were grave apprehensions that Hood would cross the river
and move into Kentucky, as Bragg had done in 1862. The government at
Washington became alarmed, and sent General John A. Logan to relieve
General Thomas. It did seem that the General was terribly slow, but he
was preparing to give the rebel army such a crushing blow that when he
did strike no second blow would be necessary. General Logan came as far
as Louisville, and learning how General Thomas was situated and what he
was doing, refused to supersede him though he had the orders in his
pocket to that effect. _Was there a regular officer in the union service
that would have been that magnanimous?_
The morning of the fifteenth of December opened with everything about
our lines and camps veiled in an impenetrable fog. One could not see a
man ten feet away. Under the cover of this fog General Thomas opened a
demonstration on the enemy's right that caused Hood to weaken his left
to support his right. About ten o'clock a. m., as soon as the fog had
lifted a little, Thomas sent the dashing Kilpatrick in on Hood's extreme
left, followed by a charge from General A. J. Smith's entire corps.
General Smith's men simply ran over the rebels. When the rebel left had
been badly shattered by the charge made by Smith, and when the firing
showed the rebel line was crumbling, the 4th Corps in the center was
ordered in, and away we all went across an open field toward the rebel
works. The rebels in our front occupied a strong position behind a stone
wall that they had materially strengthened, but seemed to be dazed by
the impetuosity of the charge on the left and center, and hardly fired a
shot. I think in this charge our brigade captured more of the enemy than
we had men in line. When we passed the stone wall there was not an armed
rebel in front of us that we could discover. The firing was over along
the entire length of the line, and some of us thought that we had taken
all the rebels there were out there. I am of the opinion of all the
artillery firing we ever experienced, that of the battle of Nashville
was the most intense. When the cavalry commenced the charge on the
right, every gun in Fort Negley commenced firing, as well as all the
other forts and all the field and reserve artillery about Nashville. Of
all the pandemonian scenes we ever witnessed, this was the climax. The
firing was so intense and ceaseless that not an individual gun could be
distinguished, but there was one dreadful roar of shot and shell, and
all along the rebel lines and beyond, the bursting missiles filled the
air with clouds of smoke. I do not believe its equal was ever before
witnessed on the American continent, if in the world.
We pushed on to the front and found no enemy, and for some unexplained
reason did nothing more that day. If we had advanced in line of battle
immediately after the charge in the morning, I am firmly in the belief
that there would have been no second day's battle. On the second day we
moved to the front early in the morning, and found that the enemy had
gathered his scattered ranks, and had taken and fortified a position,
his line running across the Franklin pike. Our regiment was at the left
of the pike in an open wood. Our regiment was also at the left of the
brigade, and joined the right of Stedman's division of colored troops.
Colonel Post, by reason of seniority of rank, had command of our
brigade, and had been in command since the 89th Ill. had been added to
us at Atlanta. It seemed the same tactics were resorted to the second
day as the first, and at four o'clock p. m. we could distinctly hear
Smith's infantry hammering away directly in the rear of the rebel line.
All the afternoon Colonel Post had been soliciting General Wood to order
our brigade to charge the rebel position on the Franklin pike, but could
not obtain the consent of the old general, as he (Wood) said the charge
would result in driving the rebels away, while by waiting we could get
all of them without any trouble or loss. This was great big sense, and
there was not an officer or man in the brigade, save Colonel Post, that
did not realize the fact. But our brigade commander was anxious for a
star, and as old Tommy became more _spiritually-minded_, he consented to
let the old second brigade charge. The rebels had good rifle pits, but
nothing so strong as on the Atlanta campaign; but near the pike they had
a battery of field artillery, some of the guns of which had been
disabled early in the day. At the order to charge we moved on in fine
form until we came near the works, when the rebels opened on us with
canister that momentarily checked our advance. The colored infantry on
our left seemed to receive the most of the rebel fire, as Stedman's
division was in such a position that as soon as they came in range they
were enfiladed for more than three hundred yards of their line, and
consequently they suffered much more severely than our brigade. I never
saw more heroic conduct shown on the field of battle than was exhibited
by this body of men _so recently slaves_. I saw a color-bearer of one of
these regiments stand on the top of the rebel parapet and shake the flag
he bore in the faces of the confederate infantry until he fell, riddled
with bullets. Soon after this, owing to a slight accident of war, your
humble servant was compelled to go to the rear. But I remember (while
lying on a stretcher) I heard the shout of the old regiment (that I
could tell as I could my mother's voice), as they carried the rebel
works.
What I know about the remainder of the battle of Nashville, and the
pursuit of Hood, you of the old regiment and brigade know better than I.
The rebel infantry ran away, just as old Tommy had said they would. This
charge was a terribly severe and useless mistake. We had two brave young
officers, Payne[4] and Dempsey, killed, and many noble men killed and
wounded. And all for what? To gratify the ambition of an officer that
desired promotion. "What is ambition? 'Tis a glorious cheat."
Footnote 4:
An own cousin of our colonel.
Colonel Post was badly punished for this foolish and needless charge he
had gotten us into. He received a canister shot through his right thigh
that nearly cost him his life, and in addition to that suffering _he was
elected to Congress from one of the districts of Illinois_.
[Illustration:
_LIEUTENANT SAMUEL B. PAYNE._
_Killed at the battle of Nashville Dec. 16th, 1864._
]
Hood's army was completely destroyed. When the second day of the battle
of Nashville was over, Hood had not a single infantry regiment in
organization. Forrest's cavalry was all the soldiers on which he could
rely. He lost every piece of artillery, every wagon. Many of his men
were recruited in Tennessee and Kentucky, and after the battle was over
they threw away their arms and accouterments and went to their homes,
never to enter the service again. The war in the west was substantially
over. Our regiment never fired another shot after the charge on Overton
Heights. They did some marching and quite a considerable traveling,
going as far on one occasion as Warm Springs, N. Car. But their fighting
service was over, and I believe we never lost a man after Nashville.
Corporal Hood, of the confederate army, was never heard from again, and
between Nashville and Atlanta there were not troops enough wearing the
gray to hinder General Thomas' army for one hour.
While the campaign from Atlanta to Nashville closed with the battle,
before ending this very imperfect sketch suffer me to refer to the last
scene at Nashville. The spring of 1865 had come. The long bloody, cruel
war was over. The wounds had healed. We were in camp in the vicinity of
Nashville, knowing we would soon be discharged and go to our own loved
Ohio. A grand review of all the troops about Nashville was ordered. It
was to be the last good-bye of "Old Pap Thomas" to the brave men he had
led so long. Never before was such preparation made for a review. Every
piece of leather, every piece of brass and steel, was burnished as
bright as time could make it. Never saw I the old regiment turn out in
such fine shape. All the remnants of the old bands we had were revived,
as far as possible. New sheepskin was in great demand. I cannot now tell
whether the wheezy old band that General Hazen had at Manchester was in
existence at that time, or whether it had been sacrificed for the good
of the service _and given harps_, as it should have been, long before.
The column for review was formed in divisions of regiments, that is, two
companies to the division. General Thomas and staff were stationed on a
gentle eminence, the bands playing, the old tattered colors flying, and
as each regiment came opposite the "Rock of Chickamauga," every hat came
off, and such cheers went up as had not greeted the old general since
the storming of Missionary Ridge. Just a little drawing about the mouth
was all the expression one could discover in the iron face of the grand
old Virginian.
A few years afterward I stood by the last resting place of General
George H. Thomas in the beautiful cemetery at Troy, N. Y., and while
standing there I thought, "here lies the remains of a proud southerner,
that 'faithful among the faithless stood,' that loved his native state
as well as any, but loved his country better, and few, if any, in life
did more to keep the flag of our Union waiving over a free and united
country."
124th Regiment Ohio Volunteer Infantry.
THREE YEARS' SERVICE.
This Regiment was organized at Camp Cleveland, O., from August to
September, 1862, to serve three years. It was mustered out of service
July 9, 1865, in accordance with orders from the War Department.
The official list of battles in which this Regiment bore an honorable
part is not yet published by the War Department, but the following list
has been compiled after careful research during the preparation of this
work:
THOMPSON'S STATION, TENN., MARCH 4-5, 1863.
CHICKAMAUGA, GA., SEPTEMBER 19-20, 1863.
LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN, TENN., NOVEMBER 24, 1863.
MISSION RIDGE, TENN., NOVEMBER 25, 1863.
ROCKY FACE RIDGE, GA., MAY 5-9, 1864.
RESACA, GA., MAY 13-16, 1863.
PICKETT'S MILLS, GA., MAY 27, 1864.
BROWN'S FERRY, TENN., OCTOBER 27, 1864.
FRANKLIN, TENN., NOVEMBER 30, 1864.
NASHVILLE, TENN., DECEMBER 15-16, 1864.
ROSTER
OF THE
124th Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Infantry.
FIELD AND STAFF.
Mustered in from Aug. 20, 1862, to Feb. 28, 1864, at Cleveland, O., by
J. R. Paxton, Captain 15th Infantry; Charles C. Goddard, Captain
17th Infantry; C. O. Howard, Captain 18th Infantry, U. S. A.,
and other Mustering Officers. Mustered out July 9, 1865,
at Nashville, Tenn., by Philip Reefy, Captain 19th
Ohio Veteran Volunteer Infantry and A. C. M. 3d
Division, 4th Army Corps.