BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA, SEPTEMBER 20, 1863
Arrival at Catoosa--Riding to General Bragg--The meeting--Order of
battle--Polk the right wing, Longstreet the left--attack to begin on
right--Delayed some hours--Left wing takes it up victoriously--Attack
on right checked--Thomas reinforces his right against Longstreet's
assaults--Cannot stand and retreats toward Chattanooga--A great
victory for the Confederates--Pursuit next day expected--Bragg says
no--Army marches to positions in front of Chattanooga--A barren
result--Lieutenant-General Polk--Sketch.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon of September 19 that our
rickety train pulled up, with jerks and bangs, at the little railway
landing, called Catoosa Platform. Longstreet and some of his personal
staff, Colonels Sorrel and Manning, were in this train and immediately
took horse. The remainder of the staff, with most of the horses, were
on a train two or three hours later. The Lieutenant-General and part of
his staff at once started to find General Bragg.
That General should surely have had guides to meet and conduct us to
the conference on which so much depended. A sharp action had taken
place during the day and it would appear that if Bragg wanted to
see anybody, Longstreet was the man. But we were left to shift for
ourselves, and wandered by various roads and across small streams
through the growing darkness of the Georgia forest in the direction of
the Confederate General's bivouac. At one point in our hunt for him
we narrowly escaped capture, being almost in the very center of a
strong picket of the enemy before our danger was discovered. A sharp
right-about gallop, unhurt by the pickets' hasty and surprised fire,
soon put us in safety, and another road was taken for Bragg, about whom
by this time some hard words were passing.
But all things have an end, even a friendly hunt for an army commander,
and between 10 and 11 o'clock that night we rode into the camp of
Gen. Braxton Bragg. He was asleep in his ambulance, and when aroused
immediately entered into private conference with Longstreet. It lasted
about an hour, and in that time the plan of battle for next day was
definitely settled, and then we all took to the leafy ground under the
tall oaks and hickories for some sleep against the work before us.
An hour was quite enough to settle the plan and details, since
nothing could be simpler than the operation proposed for Rosecrans's
destruction.
Bragg's army was already occupying favorable ground and but little
preliminary movement was positively necessary. The enemy's force was
not far off in our immediate front, seemingly easy to attack. Bragg's
army was, however, strange to say, rather deficient in artillery, and
its want was felt the next day. Our own batteries, under Alexander,
had not yet detrained. Bragg made a good disposition of his separate
divisions and commands, dividing his army into two wings, the right
under Lieutenant-General Polk and the left under Lieutenant-General
Longstreet. There was consequently thrown under the latter three
of Hood's brigades and two of McLaws's (under Hood), and Stuart's
and Preston's divisions (under Buckner), and a division of B. R.
Johnson's, and Hindman's with artillery. The order for the day was
simple in the extreme.
There was no question about all the troops being in position by
daylight, and at that hour the attack was to be opened by General Polk
on the extreme right and followed up vigorously by the lines to the
left, until the entire front of Bragg's fine army should be engaged and
charging the enemy, exposed to an attack so furious it was not believed
he could sustain it, and he could not. It will be shown how he was
partially saved after the roughest handling he had had since Bull Run.
The right wing was formed of Breckinridge's and Cleburne's divisions
under D. H. Hill, Walker's and Biddell's divisions under Walker, and
Cheatham's division, besides artillery.
Longstreet's front had Wheeler's cavalry on his extreme left, then
Hindman, Hood's corps, Stuart, and Preston in the order named, and they
were ready for their work at daylight on the 20th, the other commands
in close support. Unhappily, a most serious delay occurred on the
right, by which Polk's attack was retarded until near 10 o'clock, a
loss of at least four previous hours. Lieutenant-General Hill's command
was on Polk's extreme right and should have begun the attack. Orders
sent during the night by General Polk failed to reach him. On our part
we waited with the utmost impatience for the guns, but no sound came
until 10 o'clock. Then Polk's attack was made, but does not appear to
have achieved a decided success. The enemy were able to hold their
ground against most of the right wing commands.
When it came, as it quickly did, to the left wing to put in its work
there was another tale. The ground was in parts difficult in front of
us, but never was a more determined, dashing attack made, never a more
stubborn resistance. But our men would not be denied. The fighting
lasted nearly all day. Finally everything broke before us, and the
enemy's right was in full flight. It was a panic-stricken host that
fled. Our Virginia contingent was always to the front and seemed to
fire their western comrades with emulation of the grand example of the
Army of Northern Virginia.
Unhappily, amid shouts of victory, General Hood was shot down at the
head of his seasoned veterans. His leg was taken off on the field, the
operation being well borne. But we were forced into a temporary halt.
Reinforcements were pouring fresh and ready against our front. The
attack of the right wing having partly broken down, the enemy in front
of Polk was not held to their own, but were in large numbers free for
a masterly movement by that fine soldier, Gen. George Thomas. He was a
Virginian, and it is said started to join his Southern friends at the
beginning, but was finally won over to the Northern side.
He was one of the ablest of their soldiers, perhaps none equaled him,
and I heartily wish he had been anywhere but at Chickamauga. Thomas
pressed rapid columns to relieve his overwhelmed right and was in time
to make a good stand, but it was unavailing, although costing more
blood and time. His defenses were finally broken down, about dark, by
our incessant hammering, and it was right-about-face and hasty retreat
to Chattanooga.
This was just as darkness spread its mantle over the fields and
forests, and simultaneously there sprang up on that bloodstained
battle-ground camp fires innumerable, and the wildest Confederate
cheers and yells for victory that ever stirred the hearts of
warriors--and such warriors as had that day borne the battle-flags
forward. It was one of the greatest of the many Confederate successes.
That night was passed in caring for the wounded, burying the dead, and
cooking rations, for in all that host there was probably only one who
did not believe that "pursuit" would be the word early next day, and
that was the commander-in-chief. It is thought by some that General
Bragg did not know a victory had been gained. He does not appear to
have been closely present on the battlefield, nor for that matter was
Rosecrans. A unique instance of a great battle being fought out of the
immediate presence of the respective commanders. The next morning Bragg
asked Longstreet for suggestions. "Move instantly against Rosecrans's
rear to destroy him," was the instant reply. "Should we fail, we can
put him in retreat, and then clear East Tennessee of Burnside and the
Union forces."
Apparently, Bragg adopted this view, and gave orders to march out at
4 p. m. The right wing marched about eight miles, ours next day at
daylight. We were halted at the Chickamauga Red House Ford, I think it
was, and then directed to march to Chattanooga. At the close of the
battle we could have strolled into that town; now it was vigorously
defended. This was the fruit of the great battle; the pitiable end of
the glorious victory that was ours. The spoils were 8,000 prisoners, 36
pieces of artillery, 15,000 small arms, and 25 stands of colors.
It was a lasting regret that I had no more than a passing glimpse
during these operations of the distinguished soldier, Lieut.-Gen.
Leonidas Polk, second in command of Bragg's army.
A pure and lofty character, nothing but the most self-sacrificing,
patriotic convictions, and the almost peremptory wishes of the
Executive had led him to lay down his great Episcopal station and
duties and take to arms. His training at West Point had well prepared
him for the stern efforts in the field awaiting Southern men.
Throughout his army career he was never without a desire to put by his
sword and take up again his dearly loved people, his Bishop's staff,
for prayer and strength and consolation in their many trials and
sufferings. But the President, holding him in the highest esteem and
confidence, insisted on retaining him in the armies of the Confederacy.
He could not but yield. Of commanding presence and most winning
address, he served with distinction and renown. While suffering at the
hands of Bragg treatment unjust and harsh, he on the other hand had won
to himself the abiding affection and confidence of all officers and men
whom he commanded.
On June 1, 1864, near Marietta, Georgia, that noble life ended. In the
distance lay the hills of the Etowah; on the right, Kenesaw reared its
lofty heights. The Generals--Johnston, Hardee, and Polk--had together
walked off to observe a portion of the enemy's lines, some distance
away. Soon after they slowly separated.
Dr. W. M. Polk, the General's son, eminent in his profession, and
author of his interesting biography, simply relates what then happened
(Vol. II, p. 349):
General Polk walked to the crest of the hill, and, entirely exposed,
turned himself around as if to take a farewell view. Folding his arms
across his breast, he stood intently gazing on the scene below. While
thus he stood, a cannon shot crashed his breast, and opening a wide
door, let free that indomitable spirit. He fell upon his back with his
feet to the foe. Amid the shot and shell now poured upon the hill, his
faithful escort gathered up the body and bore it to the foot of the
hill. There in a sheltered ravine his sorrow-stricken comrades, silent
and in tears, gathered around his mangled corpse.