HOOD’S RAIDS ON SHERMAN’S RAILROAD COMMUNICATIONS—FINDING LOST
MOUNTAIN—HOLD THE FORT—TEARING UP RAILROADS—IN ALABAMA—A DISMAL
NIGHT—REVIEW OF THE ARMY—FORAGING IN TENNESSEE—CATCHING MUD
LARKS.
The First Alabama remained in camp at Lovejoy’s till Sunday, September
18th, a camp-ground was cleared up in the woods, and drilling was
resumed. During the Atlanta campaign the cooking was done at the
wagon-yards; now, cooking utensils were issued, and the men were enabled
to have comparatively decent fare. W. L. Ellis was detailed to go to
Montgomery after the company’s knapsacks, and also to procure clothing
from home for the men. On the afternoon of the day he left orders were
received to cook up two days’ rations, and at noon on the 18th the
command broke camp and marched to Fayetteville, a distance of ten miles.
At 2 o’clock Monday morning the reveille sounded, but it was 5.30, A. M.,
before the march was resumed. At dark the regiment bivouacked three miles
beyond Palmetto, having marched eighteen miles.
On Tuesday, after a march of five miles, the command was deployed and
orders given to entrench. The position was four or five miles from the
Chattahoochie and about twenty-five miles from Atlanta. While camped near
Palmetto, on Monday morning, September 26th, President Davis informally
reviewed the army, being greeted along portions of the line by cries of
“Give us Johnston!”
Thursday, September 29th, the command again received orders to march.
Private W. L. Ellis arrived that morning with the company baggage and
boxes from home, and a hasty distribution had to be made of the contents
of the latter. Clean clothing from the knapsacks was donned, the baggage
repacked and sent into Palmetto to a private house for storage; it was
never seen again.
At noon the command started, crossing the Chattahoochie that evening
on a pontoon bridge at the Pumpkintown, or Phillips, Ferry, and going
into camp after a march of eight miles. It was showery on the 30th, but
a march of ten miles was made on the Powder Springs Road. October set
in stormy, the rain falling all day and night, the command remaining in
camp. A march of twelve miles on Sunday, the 2d, brought the regiment
to familiar scenes, and it bivouacked three miles from Lost Mountain.
The troops recognized their old battlegrounds, and there was no little
enthusiasm aroused. After a march of ten miles on the 3d, the command
struck the railroad at Big Shanty Station, which was captured, with a few
prisoners, after a slight skirmish.
Our division (Walthall’s) was deployed along the track, which was torn
up, ties piled and burned, and the rails—heated red hot—bent. This work
continued till 3 o’clock on the morning of the 4th. After a few hours’
rest, the division moved up the road, tearing up the track and burning
the ties. At noon, tired and hungry—being without rations—the regiment
took the road towards Lost Mountain, and went on picket five miles from
Big Shanty Station. A march of seven miles was made on the 5th, and
just at dark the brigade began the ascent of Lost Mountain, the regiment
going on picket near the top. The mountain side was thickly carpeted with
prickly pear, and falls and ejaculations more forcible than pious were
frequent. On the 6th the command marched twelve miles, passing the site
of New Hope Church.
Near New Hope, French’s shattered division, repulsed the previous day at
Allatoona Bridge, was met. Gen. French’s assault on the fort at Allatoona
was of the most desperate character, and resulted in placing half his
command _hors du combat_. Gen. Sherman, marching to the relief of the
beleaguered garrison, signaled from the top of Kennesaw Mountain to its
commander that despatch made memorable by Bliss’s hymn:—
“Hold the fort, I am coming.
W. T. SHERMAN.”
The arrival of the Federal troops forced the Confederates to retire just
as they were about to reap the fruit of their tremendous sacrifices.
Thus far it had rained every day since the army left Palmetto, but the
7th was pleasant, the roads were good, and a march of fifteen miles
was made towards Van Wirt. Another march of fifteen miles on the 8th
brought the regiment to Cedartown. This ended Hood’s first raid on the
railroad; ten or twelve miles of track had been torn up, and about 400
prisoners taken. The First Alabama did not load their guns. Co. K lost
one man—Sergt. George Hearn—who was barefoot, and on the night that the
regiment ascended Lost Mountain was left behind, captured, and sent to
Rock Island, Ill.
At noon on the 9th orders were received to march; the left wing of the
First Alabama, including Co. K, was the brigade rear guard, and did not
get into camp until 10.30, P. M., after a march of twelve miles. On the
10th the Coosa River was crossed at Coosaville, on a pontoon bridge, the
day’s progress being ten or twelve miles. Eighteen miles were scored
on the 11th, on the Dirt-town road, and on the 12th over twenty miles,
the regiment camping at 9, P. M., three miles from Resaca. Soon after
bivouacking it began to rain. An attack on Resaca having failed, that
post was flanked, and the railroad struck at Tilton at noon on the 13th,
which post surrendered to Gen. French. The track was torn up all the way
to Dalton, the ties burned, and rails bent. Dalton surrendered to Gen.
Cheatham with about 1,000 prisoners without a fight. The First Alabama
did good service tearing up track, and camped that night two miles south
of Dalton. On the 14th Rocky Face Mountain was crossed at Dug Gap, and
after marching twelve miles the regiment went into camp. The route on the
15th lay through the Chattooga Valley for eighteen miles. Passing through
Treadwell Gap and across Chattooga River, the regiment, after a march
of ten miles, bivouacked on the evening of the 16th, two miles beyond
Summerville, Ga.
The second raid resulted in the capture of about 1,500 or 2,000 prisoners
and the destruction of twenty miles of railroad track. Co. K had no more
stragglers, but the men were weary and footsore, having, since leaving
Palmetto, marched some two hundred miles in seventeen days.
On the 17th, at 2, A. M., the command again broke camp, and marching ten
miles halted for the day at sunrise. The army crossed the state line of
Alabama on the 18th, passed through Gaylesville, and camped three miles
beyond, having marched fifteen miles. Fifteen miles were scored again
on the 19th, the route taking us past the Round Mountain Iron Works, in
Cherokee County. Reveille sounded at an early hour on the 20th, and by 3,
A. M., the regiment was on the road; twenty miles were made by 2, P. M.,
when we camped five miles beyond Gadsden. A welcome rest of forty-four
hours was here allowed the soldiers, and on the 21st some clothing was
issued to those most in need. Another treat was the distribution of a
large army mail, the accumulation of two weeks or more. The order to
march was given at 3, A. M., on the 22d, but it was countermanded before
we had gone three hundred yards, and it was 10, A. M., before the final
start was made; fifteen miles were, however, accomplished before camping,
the route being over Lookout Mountain. The army crossed the Black Warrior
River on the 23d, and, passing through Brooksville, added seventeen miles
to the march record. Though the road was very rocky, a march of seventeen
miles was also made on the 24th; the town of Summit was the only point of
interest. On the 25th the regiment marched thirteen miles to Somerville,
and on the 26th thirteen miles to the lines around Decatur, a total of
one hundred and thirty-five miles in ten days, including two days’ rest
at Gadsden.
A brisk cannonade was in progress when the regiment arrived, and it was
at once ordered to the picket line. It had been raining at intervals
all day, and the night closed in cold and gloomy. When the picket line
was reached it was quite dark. At 10, P. M., an order was received to
advance the line one hundred and fifty yards and dig rifle pits. It
was impossible to see more than five feet in any direction, and as the
command was deployed as skirmishers, the movement was executed with
considerable difficulty, but the new line was at last formed. About
the time the rifle pits were completed, the men supplementing the few
entrenching tools with tin-cups and pans, the rain came pouring down,
filling the pits and converting the whole ground into a marsh. The men
were so exhausted that so soon as the rain had ceased and they had bailed
out the pits all but those on guard lay down in the mud and fell asleep.
At daylight skirmishers were ordered forward, but finding the enemy in
force they fell back to the picket line with a loss of one man mortally
wounded in Co. E. Soon after daylight the regiment was relieved and
rejoined the brigade. It rained at intervals all day, and to add to the
discomfort of the soldiers no rations were issued except a little beef;
there was no bread for two or three days. At this time began the private
foraging, which later proved so disastrous to the discipline of the army.
On the morning of October 29, the regiment left Decatur and marched
sixteen miles westward, along the Memphis and Charleston Railroad,
camping three miles east of Courtland. The line of march on the 30th was
through a level, fertile country, but desolated by Federal raids, nearly
every plantation building having been burned. We camped that night at
Leedam, having marched fifteen miles and passed during the day through
Courtland and Jonesboro. On the 31st a march of ten miles brought the
regiment to Tuscumbia. The march record from September 29th now footed up
three hundred and eighty-five miles.
For several days after arriving at Tuscumbia it was rainy; it then
cleared off cold. On Sunday, November 6th, there was a general review and
inspection, and on the 12th Gen. Beauregard reviewed the army, which,
at that time, was said to number about 30,500 men. In Stewart’s Corps
there were 9,000 men. Corp. Rice and Privates A. D. Ellis and J. W. May
rejoined the company on November 2d, and Junius Robinson on the 4th,
making a total of 20 muskets. Our number was reduced by several sick sent
to the rear before we crossed the Tennessee.
Monday, November 14th, the regiment marched to Florence and went into
camp, and on the 18th received several months’ pay, the first since
leaving Meridian. At this muster there were present Lieut. Smith, O.
Sergt. J. L. Alexander, Sergts. C. H. Royals and E. L. Averheart, Corps.
J. D. Rice and Josiah Tunnell, and Privates T. M. Boggan, C. W. Brown,
W. W. Day, A. D. Ellis, W. L. Ellis, E. Hearn, J. C. Hearn, J. Killough,
J. W. May, G. F. Martin, Wm. Moncrief and John Tunnell. Private Martin,
during the entire campaign, was detailed at the wagon camp as cook.
One great want of the army when it started on this campaign in the depth
of winter was that of shoes. At the outset there were not a few who had
but apologies for shoes, and when Hood reached the Tennessee River on
his retreat, no less than 3,000 barefooted men straggled in the rear,
literally leaving a trail of blood along the frozen pikes. The lack of
rations was another serious misfortune; for a month prior to entering
upon the campaign the troops had been on short rations of a miserable
quality. Three-quarters of a pound of very coarse cornmeal and one pound
of fresh beef, bone and all—and generally the bone predominated—nominally
constituted a day’s rations. These rations were issued at the wagon-yards
or camps, where details from the companies cooked them. The beef was
boiled and the meal, wet up with cold water and made into “pones,”
was browned—not cooked—in “Dutch ovens.” Thus prepared, the food was
distributed—company commissioned officers and men sharing alike—the
bread, three days’ rations at a time, the beef every day. By the time
it reached the company the ration had so “shrunk in the pot” that the
writer has seen a lean and lank Confederate dispose of his three days’
rations of bread and one of beef at one sitting. All the army had chronic
diarrhœa, and all were hungry. As a consequence of this latter fact, when
the rich fields of Tennessee—the “land of hog and hominy”—were reached,
no discipline could restrain the men, and thousands at a time were
scattered through the country searching for something to satisfy their
hunger. Company officers, themselves half-starved, sympathized with their
men, and would not have punished them for foraging had it been possible;
but what punishment could be inflicted upon men who were marching from
early morn till night? “Mud Lark,” as skinned hog meat was called by the
soldiers—who even in their suffering still indulged in jokes—was brought
in every night; six hundred pounds was captured one night by the foragers
of the “First.” The Regimental Commissary, who was on the lookout, seized
it and compelled a _pro rata_ distribution; but no other notice was taken
of the offence. Parched corn augmented the scanty ration of bread, and,
after marching all day, half the night would be spent by the hungry men
in cooking up what had been gathered along the road or after camping.
In spite of the many hardships which our company had endured, the men,
when they crossed the Tennessee, marching northward, were cheerful and
willing for any duty or danger, and this was the spirit in the regiment
and army.
A commander never uttered a more unfounded libel against his soldiers
than Gen. Hood when he published that his troops were demoralized and
could not be trusted in battle. Even when his half-starved legions left
one-fourth their number on the battle-field of Franklin, after fighting
for hours against a superior force, strongly entrenched, and at one time
penetrating the enemy’s line, he was not satisfied, but is reported to
have said, in private conversation, that if his old Texas brigade had
been with him he would have won the battle. In his book, however, he gave
the troops who fought at Franklin a scanty meed of praise.