CHAPTER VIII

Sherman's Displeasure with Hooker growing out the Affair at Kolb's

Farm--Hooker's Despatch Evidently Misinterpreted--A Conversation

with James B. McPherson over the Question of Relative Rank--

Encouraging John B. Hood to become a Soldier--Visit to the Camp of

Frank P. Blair, Jr.--Anecdote of Sherman and Hooker under Fire--

The Assault on Kenesaw--Tendency of Veteran Troops--The Death of

McPherson before Atlanta--Sherman's error in a Question of Relative

Rank.

In the affair at Kolb's Farm, on June 22, Hascall's division of

the Twenty-third Corps was abreast of and connecting with Hooker's

right, while his advance-guard was many yards in advance of the

line, when the enemy's attack at the Kolb House began. The first

attack fell upon this advance-guard, the 14th Kentucky Volunteers,

which gallantly held its ground until twice ordered to retire and

join the main line. In the meantime Hascall's line had been formed

in prolongation of Hooker's and covered with the usual hastily

constructed parapets, and three brigades of Cox's division had been

ordered forward to protect Hascall's right. The attack was repulsed

with ease, and there was no ground for apprehension about the safety

of my immediate flank, much less of Hooker's, after the arrival of

Cox's division, which occurred before the hour of Hooker's signal-

despatch to Sherman expressing anxiety about our extreme right.

On the following morning we reoccupied the ground held by the 14th

Kentucky at the opening of the engagement, and not only did I offer

to show General Sherman that the dead of my "advance division were

lying farther out than any of Hooker's," but he actually rode with

me over the ground, and saw the dead of the 14th Kentucky lying in

advance of Hooker's picket-line.

SHERMAN'S DISPLEASURE WITH HOOKER

My impression is that Hooker, in his signal-despatch of 5:30 P. M.,

saying, "We have repulsed two heavy attacks, and feel confident,

our only apprehension being for our extreme right flank. Three

entire corps are in front of us,"( 1) meant by "our extreme right

flank" not his own right, but mine--that is, the _extreme_ right

of the entire line; for at the time of that despatch nearly my

whole corps was strongly posted on Hooker's right, and was well

"refused," forming a strong right flank. This General Hooker well

knew. But the Sandtown Road leading to our rear, on which Cox's

division had been posted until Johnston's attack made it necessary

to close him up on Hascall, was now less strongly guarded. I

believe that General Hooker had conceived the idea, as indicated

by his despatch to Sherman, that Johnston had drawn his main force

from around Kenesaw, and was about to strike our extreme right.

I recollect that I was all the time on the watch for such a blow,

but relied upon my cavalry to give me some warning of it, and made

it a rule to be always as well prepared for it as I could. Being

habitually on the flank, I had got used to that sort of thing,

while Hooker, having been habitually in the center with his flanks

well protected, was more nervous about having them exposed. At

all events, I did not regard the situation at the Kolb House as

anything unusual, and did not think of mentioning it in such a

light to General Sherman; while General Hooker, with a sort of

paternal feeling of seniority, may have thought it his duty to take

care of the whole right wing of the army, and to advise the general-

in-chief of the supposed danger to our "extreme right flank."

There occurred on that occasion one of those little and seemingly

trifling incidents which never escape the memory, and are always

a source of pride, especially to those who are comparatively young.

When Sherman read Hooker's despatch, which he interpreted as meaning

that my corps was not in position to protect Hooker's flank, he

said in substance, if not literally, and with great emphasis:

"That is not true. I sent Schofield an order to be there. I know

he received the order, for his initials, in his own hand, are on

the envelop which the orderly brought back, and I know he is there.

Hooker's statement is false." What a delight it was to execute

the orders of a chief who manifested such confidence!

HOOKER'S DESPATCH EVIDENTLY MISINTERPRETED

I do not remember that I was "very angry" about Hooker's despatch,

as General Sherman says (Vol. II, page 59), though I think Sherman

was. Indeed, he had more reason to be angry than I; for the fact,

and evidence of it, were so plain that the Twenty-third Corps had

done its duty as ordered, that if Hooker's despatch was meant to

imply the contrary, which I doubt, that was a cause of anger to

the general-in-chief, whom he had unnecessarily alarmed, rather

than to me, who had no apprehension of being suspected by the

general-in-chief of having failed in my duty.

In fact, I do not recollect having seen Hooker's despatch at all

until I saw it quoted in Sherman's "Memoirs." My recollection is

that Sherman told me, on his visiting us the next day, that he had

received during the battle a despatch from Hooker to the effect

that his flank was unprotected. In reply to this I explained to

General Sherman where my troops had been during the engagement,

and showed him the dead of the 14th Kentucky lying on the advanced

ground they had held while Hascall's division was forming. I

believe that if I had seen Hooker's despatch at the time, I should

have interpreted it then, as I do now, as referring, not to his

immediate right, but to the extreme right of the line. I do not

recollect any words, "pretty sharp" or otherwise, between General

Hooker and myself on that subject, and do not believe it was ever

mentioned between us. In short, I do not think I was present at

the interview in the "little church" described by General Sherman

(Sherman's "Memoirs," Vol. II, page 59). I have an impression that

General Hascall was there, and that it is to him General Sherman

refers. I believe the Kolb House difficulty was almost entirely

a misapprehension between General Sherman and General Hooker. Why

this mistake was not explained at the time or afterward I do not

know, unless it was that the feelings of those two gentlemen toward

each other were unfavorable to any such explanation.

I will add that General Hooker and I were together both before and

after the opening of the Kolb House engagement. He knew perfectly

well where my troops were, and what they were doing, and it seems

to me utterly impossible that he can have meant by his despatch

what General Sherman understood it to mean.

My despatches of that date to Sherman show that I had no special

apprehension even in respect to our extreme right flank, and that

I doubted the report that one whole corps was in our front.

My orders on that day,( 2) show that Hascall was up with Hooker at

the intersection of the Marietta and Powder Spring roads, near the

Kolb House, as early as 3 P. M., and that Cox was ordered up with

three brigades at 4:15 P. M., _before the assault began_. Cox

arrived with the head of his column during the enemy's attack, and

was directed by me in person where and how to put his troops in

position. Hence I think I must be right in the inference that in

Hooker's despatch to Sherman of 5:30 P. M., the words "our extreme

right flank" must have been intended to refer to _my_ extreme right,

and not _his_. He was simply unduly apprehensive for the safety

of the extreme right flank of the army, not of his own corps in

particular. My report to General Sherman at 9 P. M. simply shows

that I did not share that apprehension; that, instead of believing

there were "three entire corps in front of us," I doubted whether

there was even all of Hood's corps.

General Hooker's habit of swinging off from the rest of General

Thomas's army, and getting possession of roads designated for

McPherson or for me, was a common subject of remark between Sherman,

Thomas, McPherson, and myself; and his motive was understood to

be, as General Sherman states, to get command of one of the armies,

in the event of battle, by virtue of his senior commission. But

the subject was never mentioned between General Hooker and me, and

he never even approximated to giving me an order. No doubt he

entertained the opinion that he would have a right to give orders

to either General McPherson or myself under certain circumstances

likely to arise, for General Sherman entertained the same opinion.

What General Thomas thought on the question I never knew. My own

opinion and McPherson's were decidedly the contrary.

CONVERSATION OVER THE QUESTION OF RELATIVE RANK

In the final movement which resulted in the withdrawal of Johnston's

army from Kenesaw, the Army of the Tennessee passed by the right

flank of my infantry line along the famous Sandtown Road. While

this was going on, McPherson and I sat on our horses together a

long time, observing the movement and renewing the familiar

intercourse of our youth. We had a long and free conversation on

a great variety of subjects--a rare opportunity for commanders,

even in the same army, where their troops were generally from ten

to twenty miles apart in line of battle. One of the first subjects

that came up was that question of relative rank; for our troops

had "met" and were then "doing duty together," in the language of

the old article of war. But the subject was quickly dismissed with

the remark, made almost simultaneously by both, that such a question

could not possible cause any difficulty between us. McPherson had

the senior commission of major-general, and I the senior assignment

as army commander. Perhaps it would have puzzled even Halleck to

frame a satisfactory decision in that peculiar case. I had long

before determined what my decision would be if that question ever

became a practical one between McPherson and myself on the field

of battle. I would have said, in substance at least: "Mac, just

tell me what you want me to do."

As we sat together that day, McPherson confided to me the secret

of his marriage engagement, for the purpose, as he stated, of

inquiring whether, in my opinion, he could before long find a chance

to go home and get married. I told him I thought that after the

capture of Atlanta operations would be suspended long enough for

that. But my dear and noble friend was killed in the next great

battle. After Atlanta had fallen I went home, as McPherson would

doubtless have done if he had lived; but our common friend and

classmate Hood cut the visit so short that there would have been

little time for marriage festivities.

McPherson, among other high qualities, was one of the most generous

men I ever knew. He was remarkably skilful in topographical drawing,

etching, lettering, and all other uses of the pen. Although at

the head of the class and a most conscientious student whose time

was very valuable to himself, he would spend a very large part of

that precious time in "lettering" problems for classmates who needed

such help. For this reason and others he was, by common consent

of all the classes, the most popular man in the corps. I could

not compete with "Mac" at all in the lettering business, but I

tried to follow his good example, in my own way, by helping the

boys over knotty points in "math" and "phil." I had taught district

school one winter before going to West Point, and hence had acquired

the knack of explaining things.

Hood was not well up in mathematics. The first part of the course

especially he found very hard--so much so that he became discouraged.

After the unauthorized festivities of Christmas, particularly, he

seemed much depressed. On the 26th he asked me which I would prefer

to be, "an officer of the army or a farmer in Kentucky?" I replied

in a way which aroused his ambition to accomplish what he had set

out to do in coming to West Point, without regard to preference

between farming and soldiering. He went to work in good earnest,

and passed the January examinations, though by a very narrow margin.

From that time on he did not seem to have so much difficulty. When

we were fighting each other so desperately fifteen years later, I

wondered whether Hood remembered the encouragement I had given him

to become a soldier, and came very near thinking once or twice that

perhaps I had made a mistake. But I do not believe that public

enmity ever diminished my personal regard for my old friend and

classmate.

VISIT TO THE CAMP OF FRANK P. BLAIR, JR.

In thinking of McPherson, I recall an interesting incident connected

with Frank P. Blair, Jr.'s arrival with his corps about June 9,

referred to by General Sherman (Vol. II, page 24). For some reason

we had an afternoon's rest the day after Blair arrived; so I rode

over to his camp--seven or eight miles, perhaps--to greet my old

friend. McPherson, to whose army Blair's corps belonged, and other

officers were there. To our immense surprise, Blair had brought

along great hogsheads of ice and numerous baskets of champagne, as

if to increase the warmth of our welcome. Of course we did not

disdain such an unusual treat in the enemy's country. About sunset

McPherson invited me to visit his camp, and we started off at a

full gallop, which we kept up all the way, yet it was some time

after dark when we reached the headquarters of the Army of the

Tennessee. A good camp supper was awaiting us, with jolly young

officers to make it merry. It was not until supper was ended that

I began to realize the necessity of a night's march to get back to

my own camp. As our infantry line was twenty miles long, and the

cavalry stretched it out on either flank as many more, my single

orderly was quite sufficient protection from any attack by the

enemy; but the Georgia bushes, brambles, and mud, combined with

the absence of any known road, constituted an enemy hard to overcome.

However, by the aid of the compass which I have always carried in

my head since I used to hunt in the wilds of the West, I got back

to camp, and went to bed, taking care not to observe the time of

night by my watch.

As I have said, I was often much annoyed by General Hooker's corps

getting possession of roads which had been designated for mine to

advance upon, thus greatly delaying my movements. But it is but

just to say that this is susceptible of an explanation much more

creditable to General Hooker than that given by General Sherman.

General Thomas's army was so large that he could never get his

three corps into position as soon as expected by the use of the

roads designated for him. Hence, when Hooker was not in advance

he would "switch off" and hunt for another road to the right or

left, and thus sometimes strike in ahead of McPherson or me, and

leave us no road at all to move on. In fact, the army was so large

and the roads were so few that our movements were often painfully

slow and tedious, and General Hooker's motive may have been only

to get ahead and bring his corps into action or to the position

assigned to it in whatever way he could.

ANECDOTE OF SHERMAN AND HOOKER UNDER FIRE

The first time I ever saw General Sherman and General Hooker

together, or got even a suspicion that their personal relations

were other than the most satisfactory, was at Resaca. Cox's division

had gained possession of some portions of the enemy's outer works,

so that from a bald hill just in rear of our line some parts of

the main line of defense could be distinctly seen. Upon my informing

General Sherman of this, he soon appeared on the ground, accompanied

or closely followed by a large number of general and staff officers.

Besides Sherman, Thomas, Hooker, and Newton, a score of others were

there, all eager to see what they could of the now famous stronghold

which McPherson had refrained from assaulting. I led them to the

hill, on which a few dead trees were still standing, and from which

the much-desired view could be obtained. Of course all were on

foot, yet they were too numerous not to attract the attention of

the enemy. Very soon the sound of musketry in front, then not very

heavy, was varied by the sharp explosion of a shell overhead, and

fragments of branches of dead trees came falling all around. A

general "scatteration" occurred in all directions save one. Newton

and I, who were conversing at the time, quietly stepped aside a

few paces out of the line of fire, where we were much safer than

we would have been in full retreat, and then turned round to see

what had become of our companions. All save two had disappeared,

even Thomas having abandoned the field, probably for the first and

only time in his life. But still there, on the bald hill, in full

view of the hostile artillery, were the two already highly

distinguished generals, Sherman and Hooker, both alike famous for

supreme courage, striding round the ground, appearing to look at

nothing in particular and not conversing with each other, but

seeming at least a foot taller than usual, each waiting for the

other to lead off in retreat. After quite a long continuance of

this little drama, which greatly entertained Newton and me, the

two great soldiers, as if by some mysterious impulse,--for they

did not speak a word,--simultaneously and slowly strode to the

rear, where their horses were held. I cheerfully gave the "Johnny

Rebs" credit for the courtesy of not firing another shot after they

saw the effect of the first, which I doubt not was intended only

as a gentle hint that such impudence in Yankees was not to be

tolerated. Yet a single shell from the same direction,--probably

from the same battery,--when we were moving into action that morning,

exploded near my head, and killed the aide who was riding behind

me.( 3) My too numerous staff and escort had attracted attention.

I had at Dalton a few days before forbade the staff and escort to

follow me into action, unless specially ordered to do so; but they

had not so soon learned the lesson which the sad casualty at Resaca

taught them. It was then early in the campaign. Later, both

generals and orderlies had learned to restrain somewhat their

curiosity and their too thoughtless bravery. The perfect old

soldier has learned to economize the life and strength of men,

including his own, with somewhat the same care that he does those

of artillery horses and transportation mules. It is only the young

soldier who does not know the difference between husbanding the

national resources and showing cowardice in face of the enemy.

At Wilson's Creek, where the brave Lyon was killed in August, 1861,

and where the gallant volunteers on both sides had fought with

almost unexampled courage, standing up to their work all the time,

until one third of their numbers were killed or wounded, and their

forty rounds of ammunition gone, the little companies of old,

regular Indian-fighters had been deployed as skirmishers in close

order, behind trees and bushes and hillocks, and had suffered

comparatively small losses. The following colloquy occurred between

one of them and a volunteer whose cartridge-box, as he was proud

to show, was empty. Volunteer: "How many shots did _you_ fire?"

Old soldier (looking into his cartridge-box): "I fired just

nineteen." Volunteer: "And how many rebs do you think you killed?"

Old soldier: "I guess I killed about nineteen."

One beautiful, quiet Sunday afternoon, in front of Atlanta, when

even the pickets were respecting the Sabbath day, my headquarters

band, which had been playing selections of sacred music, easily

heard on the other side of the lines, struck up a favorite Southern

air of quite a different character. Quickly came a shell crashing

through the trees far over our heads. The band as quickly took

the hint and changed the tune. Such little "courtesies" from our

"friends the enemy" were not at all uncommon in the short intervals

of rest from deadly work.

THE ASSAULT ON KENESAW

General Sherman says in Vol. II, page 60, of his "Memoirs":

"During the 24th and 25th of June, General Schofield extended his

right as far as prudent, so as to compel the enemy to thin out his

lines correspondingly, with the intention to make two strong assaults

at points where success would give us the greatest advantage. I

had consulted Generals Thomas, McPherson, and Schofield, and we

all agreed that we could not with prudence stretch out any more,

and therefore there was no alternative but to attack 'fortified

lines'--a thing carefully avoided up to that time."

The first sentence literally means that I extended my right "with

the intention," _on my part_, "to make two strong assaults," etc.

But that is a mere verbal error. General Sherman, of course, meant

to say that the intention was his.

The second sentence is, perhaps, ambiguous. At least it has been

construed to mean more than the truth. It is undoubtedly true that

"we all agreed that we could not with prudence stretch out any

more," but we did not agree in the conclusion "and therefore there

was no alternative," etc.

Indeed, such conclusion was extremely illogical, as was demonstrated

a few days later, when one of the other "alternatives" was adopted

with success. This successful movement was essentially the same

as that which had been previously made to dislodge the enemy from

Dalton, and that by which Sherman's army had been transferred from

New Hope Church to the railroad in front of Allatoona, as well as

that by which Atlanta was afterward captured. Hence the existence

of this "alternative" could not have been unthought of by any of

us at the time of the assault on Kenesaw.

But there was another alternative in this and similar cases, which

was much discussed at various times during the campaign. Its

practicability can be judged of only upon general principles, for

it was never tried. It was to detach two or three corps, nearly

half our army (which was about double the strength of the enemy),

make a detour wide enough to avoid his fortifications, and strike

directly at his flank and rear. Such a movement, it was urged, at

Dalton, Kenesaw, or Atlanta would have compelled Johnston to fight

a battle on equal terms with one half of Sherman's army, while he

had to hold his parapets against the other half. Whatever else

may be said of this proposed movement, it would undoubtedly have

been more hazardous and much more decisive, one way or the other,

than any of the plans actually adopted. It certainly promised

success proportionate to the cost, instead of a costly failure,

which the assault of fortified lines had almost invariably proved

to be.

I did not see Thomas or McPherson for some days before the assault,

but I believe their judgment, like mine, was opposed to it.

Undoubtedly it was generally opposed, though deferentially as became

subordinates toward the commanding general. The responsibility

was entirely Sherman's, as he afterward frankly stated; and I

presume he did not mean to imply otherwise by the language used in

his "Memoirs" above quoted (Vol. II, page 60). General Sherman's

orders, issued on June 24 (Special Field Orders, No. 28), directed

each of the three armies to make an attack (under the word "assault"

for Thomas and "attack" for McPherson and me). I had made all

preparations to carry out the order on my part. Being visited by

General Sherman a day or two before the date named for the execution

of the order (June 27), I explained to him what I had done, and

how little hope there was of success, on account of the smallness

of my reserve to push the advantage even if we should break the

line, when he at once replied that it was not intended that I should

make an attack in front, but to make a strong demonstration in my

front, and gain what advantage I could on the enemy's flank. During

the day Cox's division forced the passage of Olley's Creek and

secured a position on the head of Nickajack, which was spoken of

by Sherman as the only success of the day.

TENDENCY OF VETERAN TROOPS

There were doubtless many occasions in the Atlanta campaign when

the enemy's intrenchments could have been assaulted with success.

These were when the position had been but recently occupied and

the fortifications were very slight. After several days' occupation,

as at the points attacked by Thomas and McPherson, the lines became

impregnable. Frequent efforts were made, and by none more earnestly

than by General Sherman, to press the troops to a vigorous assault

of the enemy's position under the favorable circumstances above

referred to. But the general feeling of the army, including not

only privates, but officers of nearly all grades, was undoubtedly

opposed to such attacks. The notion was very prevalent that there

was no necessity of fighting the enemy on unequal terms. When

attacked, either with or without cover, the troops would fight with

the most determined valor, and almost invariably with success. So

when attacking the enemy in open ground there was no lack of energy

or pluck. But we lose one of the most important lessons of the

war if we fail to remember and appreciate the fact that our veteran

troops are very loath to make an attack where they believe they

have not a fair chance of success. This feeling must be attributed,

not to a lack of high soldierly qualities, but to intelligence and

good sense. The veteran American soldier fights very much as he

has been accustomed to work his farm or run his sawmill: He wants

to see a fair prospect that it is "going to pay." His loyalty,

discipline, and pluck will not allow him under any circumstances

to retreat without orders, much less to run away; but if he encounters

a resistance which he thinks he cannot overcome, or which he thinks

it would "cost too much" to overcome, he will lie down, cover

himself with a little parapet, and hold his ground against any

force that may attempt to drive him back. This feeling of the

soldier is an element in the problem of war which cannot be ignored.

The general who, with such an army, would win the full measure of

success due to greatly superior numbers, must manoeuver so as to

compel the enemy to fight him on approximately equal terms, instead

of assaulting fortifications where, against modern weapons, numbers

are of little or no avail. In the days of the bayonet successful

tactics consisted in massing a superior force upon some vital point,

and breaking the enemy's line. Now it is the fire of the musket,

not the bayonet, that decides the battle. To mass troops against

the fire of a covered line is simply to devote them to destruction.

The greater the mass, the greater the loss--that is all. A large

mass has no more chance of success than a small one. That this is

absolutely true since the introduction of breech-loaders is probably

not doubted by any one; and it was very nearly true with the muzzle-

loading rifles used during our late war, as was abundantly demonstrated

on many occasions.

I have always believed that the true tactics of our late war,

whenever our force was double that of the enemy (as it sometimes

was and always should have been at all points where decisive

movements were to be made), were to throw one half the force upon

the enemy's rear, so as to compel him to attack that force or else

retreat by side roads with loss of trains and artillery. This

would doubtless have been a bold departure from the ancient tactics,

which had not yet been proved obsolete. Yet I always thought it

strange that our leading generals were unwilling to attempt it.

Had Sherman divided his army in such a way, and struck at Hood's

rear, he might have found a chance to destroy that army as well as

the railroads in Georgia.

THE DEATH OF McPHERSON BEFORE ATLANTA

The death of McPherson, on July 22, was felt by all to be an

irreparable loss, and by none more so than by General Sherman, who

manifested deep feeling when the body was brought to the Howard

House, east of Atlanta. I recollect well his remark to the effect

that the whole of the Confederacy could not atone for the sacrifice

of one such life.

My recollection of some of the incidents of that day differs in

some respects from that of General Sherman. As soon as it was

known that the Army of the Tennessee was heavily engaged I drew

out of line the larger part of my troops, leaving the picket-line

in position, with strong reserves behind the parapets, and massed

them near my left, ready to send reinforcements to the Army of the

Tennessee if necessary, or to form a temporary left flank if the

line on my left should be broken, as it was late in the day, as

described by General Sherman.( 4)

When that break was made in the line immediately to the left of

mine, I had a rare opportunity of witnessing Sherman's splendid

conduct as a simple soldier, the occasion for which occurs so rarely

to the general-in-chief of a great army. Sherman at once sent to

me for _all my artillery_, which responded to his call at a full

gallop. He led the batteries in person to some high, open ground

_in front of our line_ near the Howard House, placed them in

position, and directed their fire, which from that advanced position

enfiladed the parapets from which our troops had been driven, and

which the enemy then occupied. With the aid of that terrible raking

fire, the division of Union troops very quickly regained the

intrenchments they had lost. General Sherman, on page 81, Vol.

II, gives me the credit due to himself for that soldierly conduct

as an artillery commander. I was occupied in forming my infantry

reserve to meet the enemy if Logan's troops did not drive them

back. Only my artillery was used in restoring this broken line,

because Logan's infantry proved sufficient without further aid.

This action of mine was taken with General Sherman's knowledge and

approval, and was the correct thing to do, for the reason that the

ground in my front was such as to make both my position and that

of the enemy practically unassailable. I had no apprehension of

an attack in my front, and there was no question of my attempting

to "make a lodgment in Atlanta" that day, as stated by Sherman in

Vol. II, page 80.

It was proposed by me that my reserve and Thomas's should go the

assistance of the Army of the Tennessee, either directly or, better

still, by making a counter-attack in front of the right of that

army, which, if successful, would cut off the hostile force then

attacking in left. Sherman replied, as I recollect, that he had

asked Thomas to send some troops to the left, and the latter had

replied that he had none to spare. Without these the proposition

to make a counter-attack could not be entertained. But my memory

is only that of conversations with General Sherman during the day,

and he ought to be much better informed than I concerning what

passed between General Thomas and himself. I recollect that General

Sherman during the day expressed something like a wish to "let the

Army of the Tennessee fight its own battle," but in his statement

of motive for so doing I think he does that army injustice. My

impression was, and is, that they would have been very glad of

assistance, and that timely help would have increased the fraternal

feeling between the armies, instead of creating unworthy jealousy.

I cannot but believe, as I then thought, that we were losing a

great opportunity that day. A large force of the enemy had made

a wide circuit from his defenses about Atlanta and attacked our

left several miles distant. We there had a chance to fight him on

equal terms. I thought, and still think, we ought to have concentrated

a large part of Thomas's force and mine near the Howard House, and

made a strong counter-attack upon this attacking column of the

enemy, with the hope of cutting it off from Atlanta. Instead of

this, Thomas spent the day in efforts to "make a lodgment in Atlanta"

over well-prepared fortifications which the Georgia militia could

hold against him about as well as the veteran Confederate troops.

The movement of August 4 and 5 was designed to be substantially

what had been frequently suggested, but which I have heretofore

referred to as having never been tried, with the exception that

the attacking force was not to sever its connection with the main

body, and hence might not reach far enough to strike an exposed

flank of the enemy. But even with this modification I thought the

movement ought to have a fair chance of success. That movement

was not suggested by me in any way, and, so far as I know, not by

General Thomas. I believe it originated entirely with General

Sherman. I never heard of it until I received his orders. There

was no "argument" by me of the question of relative rank, as

suggested by General Sherman (Vol. II, page 99).

SHERMAN'S ERROR IN A QUESTION OF RELATIVE RANK

The positions of the troops when the order for the movement was

made rendered it convenient that the Twenty-third Corps be put in

first,--that is, next to the right of General Thomas's troops then

in position,--while the Fourteenth Corps, commanded by General John

M. Palmer, was relied upon to develop rapidly to our right and

endeavor to strike the enemy's flank before he could extend his

intrenched line far enough to meet and resist our attack. It was

not until some time after my orders for this movement had been

issued and should have been in progress of vigorous execution that

I received the first intimation that the question of rank had been

raised, as stated by General Sherman, and that my orders had simply

been transmitted to the division commanders of the Fourteenth Corps.

It cannot for a moment be admitted that any share of the blame for

that failure attaches to the Fourteenth Corps, as such. Nor do I

believe with General Sherman that its slowness on that occasion

was due to anything "imbibed" from General Thomas.

SHERMAN'S ERROR IN A QUESTION OF RELATIVE RANK

My own view of military duty was different from that entertained

by the commander of the Fourteenth Corps, as was shown in my

subsequent action, hereinafter referred to, when I was ordered to

report to and act under the orders of General Stanley. But if the

distinguished statesman who then commanded the Fourteenth Corps

fell into error at that time, he has doubtless since regretted it

far more than any other man could possible do; and he has many

times atoned for that error by the great services to the country

which he has continued to render up to the present time.

The primary and principal cause of this and all similar difficulties

during the Atlanta campaign was the grave error of opinion which

disregarded the special rank of army and department commanders

given them by the President's assignment under the law, and the

still graver error of judgment in leaving such an important question

open until the eve of battle, in the "hope that there would be no

necessity for making this decision." This error seems incomprehensible

when it is considered that it in effect nullified the President's

selection of army and department commanders at the most important

of all moments, the crisis of battle, by making these commanders

subject to the orders of any general of older commission whose

troops happened to be adjacent to theirs.

In the midst of battle, when the orders of a common superior cannot

be obtained in time to meet an emergency, the highest commander

present must give the necessary orders and must be obeyed. This

is probably the gravest responsibility of war. Yet Sherman's

opinion and decision would have placed this responsibility, not

upon the army commander who had been selected by the President,

upon the advice of the general-in-chief, under an act of Congress

passed especially for the purpose, but upon some one who through

political influence or otherwise had got an earlier commission of

major-general. So many of the latter had proved to be unqualified

for responsible command that Congress had enacted a special law

authorizing the President to supersede such prior commissions and

assign commanders of armies or army corps in the field and in any

department whom he deemed competent.( 5) Palpable as this fallacy

seems, yet it was adhered to until overruled by the War Department.

It is proper for me to add that I had at that time but a very slight

personal acquaintance with General Palmer. However, I knew him

well by reputation, and esteemed him highly. General Thomas,

especially, had given me a high estimate of his character and

abilities. If there was any cause of jealousy or ill-feeling

between us, I never suspected it.

[( 1) War Records, Vol. XXXVIII, part iv, p. 558.]

[( 2) War Records, Vol. XXXVIII, part iv, pp. 566 and 568.]

[( 3) Captain A. H. Engle, who was killed at Resaca, was a most

charming and talented youth, only twenty years of age. That was

his first battle. He was caterer of the headquarters mess. That

morning, before leaving camp, Captain Engle made out all his accounts

and handed them, with the money for which he was responsible, to

another staff officer, saying that he was going to be killed that

day.]

[( 4) Vol. II, pp. 80, 81.]

[( 5) Reference is made here to the 122d Article of War, and the

resolution of Congress especially intended to modify it in respect

to command in any "field or department," approved April 4, 1862.]

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