In the latter part of September, 1863, just after the battle of Chickamauga, by order of General Bragg, General Wheeler was sent into Middle Tennessee with his cavalry corps. The Army of Tennessee was occupying the field they had so gallantly won at Chickamauga. He moved up the Cleveland Road to Red Clay, and forded the Tennessee River at or near Cottonport, some thirty miles above Chattanooga. The object of the raid was to cut off all supplies from the North for Rosecrans’s army, then at Chattanooga. The Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad from Bridgeport to Chattanooga was then in possession of the Confederates. The opposite bank of the Tennessee was closely picketed by the enemy, and the command was to keep as still as possible so as not to draw their attention until we had crossed. We reached the ford after a night’s ride, and rested there till daylight. I can never forget the beauty and picturesqueness of the scene that was presented that moonlight night, when four or five thousand cavalry forded the beautiful Tennessee. It happened that the Fourth Tennessee Regiment was in front; and, headed by a single guide, we descended the banks and dropped into the river, and then the line swung down the stream across the silvery surface of the broad waters, like the windings of a huge dark serpent. When we reached the opposite shore, I looked back upon the scene presented. This, with the reflection that we had turned our faces homeward again after our glorious victory, was soul-inspiring indeed. Nearly half a century has elapsed, but its recollection is as vivid in my memory as it was then. No creation of art could have been more imposing. There is too much stern reality in a soldier’s life for such to claim his attention, but this scene has left an impression that I can never forget.
As we reached the opposite shore the gray dawn of a bright September morning was breaking upon us. About one-half of the regiment was dismounted and silently moved up the bank. But a few moments had elapsed before the bang of a solitary gun was heard, and in another second bang! bang! bang! went the guns, and then a perfect fusillade. All were now wide awake, and the stillness of the scene was suddenly transformed into busy preparation for a fight. Another regiment was hurried forward, and thundered down the road leading from the river in the direction of the firing. A few more shots were heard, and all was still again. A large picket of mounted men had been driven off with the loss of several men and some prisoners. The remainder of the command moved out from the river as they came over, and in due time all were safely over. The trail of the ford was a devious one and very deep in places. One would reasonably suppose that many mishaps would have occurred, but nothing of a serious character happened.
The command then moved toward Middle Tennessee across the mountains into the Sequatchie Valley, where we went into camp for the night at the crossroads. Nothing of note occurred during the day. About daylight the following morning we were aroused by an order to saddle up and mount our horses, as the bugle sounded “boots and saddles.” In a few moments more we were moving down the valley at a rapid rate, not knowing at the time what was up. How vividly these stirring scenes flit across my memory! And how many incidents of dash and spirit do they bring to mind of the early morning “racket, when from out the empty saddlebows bravely they fell!” A few miles away we commenced overhauling Federal wagons, partially plundered; then the cry of a wagon train was raised. As the pace quickened, these captures thickened along the way; and after going ten or twelve miles down the valley to the vicinity of Jasper, there opened the richest scene that the eye of a cavalryman can behold. Along the side of the mountain hundreds of large Federal wagons were standing, with their big white covers on them, like so many African elephants, solemn in their stately grandeur. They had been rushed up there by the teamsters and abandoned. This was too rich a bonanza to be left without an escort; and in a few moments the rifles sounded from the mountain sides, indicating that we would have to do some fighting for such booty. Men were dismounted in haste and hurried to the right and left. A vigorous fire was kept up for a while, when the enemy, seeing that they were greatly outnumbered, surrendered after some casualties on both sides. The escort numbered 1,200, with many drivers of the wagons. Some of them had escaped by cutting loose the mules and mounting them. We knew that there was a large infantry force not many miles away, and we set to work destroying everything at once. Orders were given that no plunder was to be carried off. This, however, was but partially enforced. The wagons were loaded with all manner of clothing and rations for the army of General Rosecrans. Among the wagons were a number belonging to sutlers, with rich stores of all kinds. The result of the capture was seven hundred and fifty wagons, twenty-six hundred fat mules, and twelve hundred prisoners. The wagons, or the most of them, were loaded with rations for the army. The enemy were afraid to risk railroad transportation, and were endeavoring to provision their army at Chattanooga by means of wagons from McMinnville. It had rained the night before and left the roads so slippery that the wagons could not go over the steep mountain pass. Such of the mules as we could not take off were destroyed. The wagons and the greater part of their contents were destroyed on the spot, the débris covering acres of ground. I was particularly struck with the fine harness that had been stripped from the mules, as it lay chin-deep over ten acres of ground. Such a calamity as this would have been most seriously felt by us, and would have retarded movements for months; but with “Uncle Sam,” with all the world at his back, it made no perceptible difference. If it created a ripple of discomfort anywhere, we never had the satisfaction of knowing it.
From here we moved on toward McMinnville, traveling all night long with the prisoners, mules, and a few of the wagons. General Dibrell had been sent forward from the crossroads where we camped to take McMinnville. We reached there the next morning. Dibrell had captured the garrison of four hundred, with stores that had been shipped there by rail to be transported by wagon train to Chattanooga. It was said that there was a full suit of clothing for every soldier in Rosecrans’s army, besides an immense amount of rations. During the night we overtook the guard in charge of the prisoners on foot. As we passed them I noticed a boy among them who could not have been over ten or twelve years of age, dressed in full Federal uniform. I asked him what he was doing there, and he answered that he was a soldier and a marker for a Michigan regiment. I took him up behind me and carried him the remainder of the night, leaving him with the guard in charge of other prisoners captured at McMinnville. We now had about sixteen hundred prisoners on our hands, and the most perilous part of our raid was still before us. So it was concluded that we would parole them. Marching them out a few miles from McMinnville, we ordered them to hold up their right hands, swearing not to take up arms again until they were legally exchanged, and then started them toward the Kentucky line. How many of them observed their parole, we will never know; but it seemed to us then and afterwards that for every one we killed or captured half a dozen would rise up in their places. When we lost a man, he was “dead for certain,” and, worse still, none was to be had to stand in his place. In fact, it was this that forced us to quit fighting after four years, during which time we had the satisfaction of knowing that we were giving them about all they could stand up to, and this after calling to their aid the negroes and an immense foreign importation.
From McMinnville General Wheeler moved toward Murfreesboro. The column was a very long and cumbersome one with the mules and wagons we were attempting to take with us. We must have been close on the rear of the column, for by the time we reached Woodbury (one-half of the distance) we were in a gallop; and when we reached Murfreesboro we were at running speed. We found the command in line of battle close up to the town, forming a semicircle covering the roads leading to the south. We took position in line, and remained there probably half the day, expecting every moment to be ordered to charge the town. All at once we moved in column down the Shelbyville Pike. The object was then comprehended to be a feint to cover the passing of the led stock and wagons. During the halt here miles of railroad track was destroyed. Christiana is a station on the Chattanooga Railroad where a ludicrous little episode transpired en passant. The pike was about half a mile from the station, but in sight. A body of bluecoats were seen about the station, and a small troop was sent over to take them in. After approaching the place, something like a cannon was observed upon an eminence back of the station, with the gunners standing about it ready to fire. The information was sent back to the pike, and one of Lieutenant White’s guns was brought down. About the time it was placed in position to rake the station half a dozen white handkerchiefs were flaunted in the air. We went over to receive the surrender, and the would-be artillery was found to be an ordinary stovepipe set on a couple of wagon wheels. There was a set of about one hundred jolly, well-fed fellows, belonging to an Indiana regiment. They were well fixed up and were equipped with every paraphernalia for camp life—in fact, they had more plunder about them than a brigade of our army. Of this, what was not appropriated was destroyed, with apologies, however, to our newly made friends, whom we paroled and started back toward Murfreesboro. Many detours of this kind were made from the main column during the raid, and hundreds of prisoners were taken and much property was destroyed.
At Shelbyville we expected to make a fight, as it was reported that a considerable force of the enemy was there and were prepared for us. On approaching the place the next morning, we found they had evacuated the town. Before leaving they had torn down the courthouse on the Square, and with the débris blocked all the streets leading to it. Had they held their ground, certainly some blood would have been spilled before taking the place. We found a great many shops, sutler’s stores, etc., in the town, well supplied with goods of every description. These were owned by the Northern camp followers, who failed to get sufficient warning for their removal. Such plunder was considered as legitimate for capture as a United States mule or wagon, and to many it was much more acceptable. No Southern sympathizer would be granted this privilege. Commanding officers would attempt to restrain in a degree, but efforts were generally futile; and the result was that, after a raiding party had left a place, not much was left to commence business on again. Both armies pleaded alike to this charge. I noticed soldiers moving out of town with their horses heavily laden with some articles that you would imagine were the last things they would have need of. A couple of ladies had come to town that morning to make some purchases. When they saw what had happened, they waved their handkerchiefs and cheered lustily for Jeff Davis. The soldiers gathered around them, filled their buggy full of goods, and then escorted them out of the town.
From here the command moved out near the Lewisburg and Nashville Pike and went into camp. I think we remained there as long as two days. It is said that General Wheeler’s object was to await the return of scouting parties. We had created such a stir among the enemy that they took the time to set on our trail all the forces that were available. It seemed that it should have been the policy of the commanding general to have hastened our escape at this time, as the men, I am sorry to say, were so full of plunder that fighting had gone out of their minds, and they were anxious to get to a safe place where they could make an inventory of their property. However, we moved out one morning toward Lewisburg. The Fourth Tennessee and the First Kentucky Regiments were the rear guard. The first intimation that we had of the presence of the enemy was when cannon balls came crashing through the timber and we could hear the firing of our men and the enemy out on the pike, half a mile off. We sent Captain Wyly, of the Fourth Tennessee, down in that direction. He returned in a few moments, reporting that the enemy were between us and the remainder of the command. Lieut. Col. Paul Anderson and Colonel Chenyworth, of the First Kentucky, held a hasty consultation, when it was concluded that we would cut our way through. When this was announced, it was amusing to see the men falling out of their new Yankee uniforms and donning the faded gray again. It was more amusing still, as I think of it, when the gallant Colonel Chenyworth waved his sword over his head and took his position in front of his regiment, crying out in a loud voice, “Follow me, my brave Kentuckians!” as we moved down a blind pathway overhung with bushes. The two regiments had hardly gotten straightened out when bang! bang! went the enemy’s guns, seemingly only a few paces distant in the dense growth. The order was given, “Right into line;” and we moved through the woods one hundred yards or more, when we could see to our left a narrow lane leading out to the pike, and could see our men engaged fighting the enemy. Then the order was given, “Left into column,” as we made for the lane. Fortunately, this lane was old and well-worn, and the roadway dipped considerably. By drooping on their horses’ necks, this, with the fence, afforded protection to the men from the firing of the enemy, about a hundred yards across a little field. The two regiments went through with but few casualties, and joined with the remainder of the command in the fight. When I meet an old comrade who was present, he always asks: “Did you ever see as much kindling wood flying in the air as at that time?” Here opened up what is well remembered as the battle of Farmington. I wish I were prepared with the data to give a correct account of this fight, but I am unable from memory to give more than the results. I think both sides lost about equally in killed and wounded—say, about two hundred each. We fought for two hours, when General Wheeler learned that a large column of the enemy both in our rear and on the right flank was moving to surround us. The Confederates quietly and without pursuit moved off down the pike toward Lewisburg. The enemy afterwards picked up and made prisoners about one hundred of our men who had not joined the column when the fight took place. Among the number of Confederates captured at the battle of Farmington was the present well-known and efficient Secretary of the State Pension Board, Capt. John P. Hickman. He and his squad had been on detail duty, and were endeavoring to get to their company when captured. He was probably the youngest man in his company. He was confined in Rock Island Prison, and was not released until some weeks after the surrender of the armies. General Wharton, Colonel Cook, Major Christian, Captain Jarmin, and Capt. Polk Blackburn were among the wounded. Blackburn was very seriously wounded, and was thereby rendered incapable of further service during the war. He is now living at Lynnville, Giles County. Tenn., as one of the best-known and most worthy citizens of the county. He has represented that county several times in the State Legislature. The enemy ought to have destroyed us at Farmington. The Confederates were flushed with booty, and the Federals were smarting under their heavy losses in men and material.
We camped at Cornersville that night, along the road. It was quite cold, and the men had to burn (what the owner doubtless thought afterwards) a considerable amount of rails. The next day we passed through Pulaski. Here the Fourth Tennessee was detailed to hold till sundown the bridge that spans Richland Creek. The remainder of the command passed on toward the ford at Bainbridge, on the Tennessee River. We sat upon our horses that evening and watched for hours long lines of Federals as they came over the hills into the town, and expected every moment for them to open upon us. We were commanded to hold the bridge at all hazards—in fact, to be sacrificed, if need be, for the good of the cause. All of which would have read very heroically to the boys of the fourth reader of the next generation, but it was void of sentiment to us as we watched with supreme satisfaction the god of day sink behind the western horizon. Never had we seen so lovely a sunset. We ventured five minutes longer at the post, and then followed the command. We traveled all night and overtook the rear guard a few miles from the river the next morning. It consisted of about two hundred and fifty men, a remnant of Gen. John Morgan’s command after his capture in Indiana. They were in command of that gallant soldier Capt. J. D. Kirkpatrick, whom we knew well; and to many of the men we expressed our fear of their capture, as we knew that the enemy had been convinced of our intention and were now pressing us vigorously with a heavy force. We passed on to the river, which we forded without interruption, near Bainbridge, Ala. Our conjectures about Captain Kirkpatrick proved too true, for we learned afterwards from those who escaped that the enemy rushed upon them from every point of the compass, frenzied that we should escape so successfully. About one-half of the men were killed or wounded and captured, not, however, without having inflicted severe loss upon their assailants.
Thus ended Wheeler’s celebrated raid in 1863, commencing at the crossing of the Tennessee River at Cottonport, above Chattanooga, and ending with the crossing of the Tennessee River at Bainbridge, Ala.—about four weeks’ time in passing from crossing to crossing. The result was as follows: We killed, wounded, and captured of the enemy three thousand men; burned and brought out one thousand wagons; captured thirty-five hundred mules and horses, half of which I suppose we had to abandon in the fight at Farmington. I cannot estimate the loss of the enemy in stores of clothing, provisions, arms and ammunition, the destruction of miles of railroad tracks, bridges, engines, etc., but it was immense. Our own loss in men, from all causes, was eleven hundred, which loss was replaced to a great extent by new recruits and absentees we brought out with us.
We remained a short time in the vicinity of Bainbridge, Ala., getting horses shod, etc. Many soldiers who had been cut off while in Tennessee crossed the river at different points and rejoined their command. In rejoining the Army of Tennessee we again passed through the field of the battle of Chickamauga. Though it had been six weeks since we had seen it, much of the ravages of the battle were still to be seen. I regret to say that many of the bodies of the Federal soldiers were lying where they fell, but such is the state of war. Missionary Ridge extended from Rossville Gap to a point above Chattanooga where the Chickamauga River empties into the Tennessee River, and about four miles from the city. General Bragg was occupying its top, a distance of four or five miles in length, with his thin line of about twenty-five thousand muskets. From its summit the immense army of General Grant could be seen in the vicinity of Chattanooga. It was naturally a very strong position, and no army near the number of the Confederates could have driven them from it.
The Fourth Tennessee was ordered from here to Trenton, Ga., for the purpose of picketing the gaps in Lookout Mountain, notably at Johnson’s Crook and other places some twenty miles from Chattanooga and on the extreme left. I suppose they were sent out there from the fact that a good many members of Company H lived at Bridgeport, Ala., and were familiar with the country and railroad track from there to Chattanooga. These same men had been detailed by order of General Bragg, and had given him important information preceding the battle of Chickamauga. They had been highly complimented by General Bragg on their scouts and the information they had given him. On reaching Trenton, Lieut. Col. Paul F. Anderson availed himself of the first opportunity he had had of making his report to brigade headquarters of the action the regiment had taken in the battle of Chickamauga. The same appears in the war records published by the United States government after the war. When Richmond fell the Federals captured many of the records of the Confederate government that were on file at the Capitol. We have copied it verbatim:
Headquarters Fourth Tennessee Cavalry Regiment,
In Field, Trenton, Ga., October 30, 1863.
Capt. W. B. Sayers, Adjutant General Harrison’s Brigade, Wharton’s Division, Wheeler’s Corps.
Sir: The report of the action taken by this regiment in the battle of Chickamauga has been delayed by reason of the fact that immediately after the battle we were ordered to Middle Tennessee with the balance of Wheeler’s Corps and did not return from that most eventful raid until a few days ago. On or about the 10th of September, 1863, we received while at Rome, Ga., marching orders from the commanding general, and reported to him near La Fayette, Ga., where our infantry were being mobilized. A corps of the enemy had crossed the Tennessee River at Bridgeport, Ala., and, crossing Sand Mountain, marched toward Rome. We were sent to the front, and were engaged in daily skirmishing till the battle occurred. On the 15th of September, in conjunction with Gen. Ben Harden Helm’s brigade of infantry, at Tryon Factory, on the Rome Road, we had quite a brush with the enemy, driving them off; also at Catlett’s Gap, Bluebird Gap, McLemore’s Cove, and other places, driving them toward Chattanooga to the right wing of Rosecrans’s army. On Saturday evening, September 19, Wharton’s division of cavalry relieved Gen. John C. Breckenridge’s infantry division at Glass’s Mill, on the south bank of the Chickamauga River. He had had a heavy fight there that evening with General Negley’s Federal division, and still farther to the right there had been heavy fighting. We remained in this position during the night, ascertaining that about the time Breckenridge was moved to the right Negley’s infantry had moved to the Federal left, Gen. George Crook’s cavalry taking Negley’s position at Glass’s Mill. At an early hour on Sunday morning, September 20, the skirmishers from both armies faced each other along the banks of the Chickamauga. About eleven o’clock the enemy planted a battery upon an eminence half a mile distant and commenced vigorously to shell us. At this time the battle to our right was raging with desperate fury along the whole line, and seemed to be a succession of infantry charges upon batteries in chosen position. You would first hear the rapid discharges of the guns, indicating that their position was threatened. Then would come the crash of musketry, as if every tree in the forest had fallen, and, high above all this, the shouts of the Confederates. We could tell unmistakably that we were driving them. It was twelve o’clock in the day, we suppose, when General Wharton ordered the brigade to dismount and take the battery that was shelling us from across the Chickamauga. The brigade consisted of the Eighth and Eleventh Texas, the First Kentucky, and the Fourth Tennessee, Col. Thomas Harrison commanding. The Eighth Texas remained mounted, while the other regiments counted off (No. 4 being directed to hold the horses) and formed line in infantry style. We forded the river at the mill, formed line in the edge of a low beech wood, placed our skirmishers in front, and advanced through the woods. The enemy knew we were coming, and kept shelling the woods. Some of our men were injured by the limbs of trees torn off by cannon balls. We had advanced but a short distance before the skirmishers became hotly engaged, which was the signal for a rapid advance, and we swept through the woods, driving the enemy before us. They rallied at a fence at the outer edge of the woods. After delivering an effective volley at us, they fell back rapidly across a small field to the position of their battery on the hill. As we emerged from the woods, this battery, shotted with grape and the support armed with seven-shooting Spencer rifles, opened upon us. We were commanded to lie down, which we did for a moment, then arose and charged across the field. The battery limbered up and disappeared. We killed many of the enemy as they ran off. About two hundred surrendered in a body. We pursued for some distance till we came in sight of Crawfish Springs, and were the first to reach that place, where we captured an immense host. Besides their killed and wounded, the enemy lost a large number of wagons, hospital attendants, and many shirkers from the fight. When we first came in sight, we supposed that the whole army had surrendered to us, so large was the crowd that met our sight. Our loss was considerable. The line of attack for a mile or more was well defined with the killed and wounded, and where a stand was made they lay thick upon the ground. This was our first experience with the seven-shooting Spencer rifle. We armed two of our companies from the captures. We do not think the enemy’s loss in killed or wounded exceeded our own. However, we captured several hundred prisoners on the field. Among the killed was Capt. J. J. Partin, of Company L. Lieutenants Barbee, Corbett, Preston, Scruggs, and McLean were among the wounded. The regiment’s loss in killed and wounded was forty-five, the details of which from the company officers accompanies this report.
After the capture of Crawfish Springs, we left a guard there. Being ordered to our horses, we mounted and moved rapidly to Lee and Gordon’s Mill, where we crossed the bridge and, charging down the road, captured a long line of prisoners, wagons, ambulances, etc. We bivouacked upon the field of battle Sunday night, and at an early hour on Monday morning the regiment was ordered to report to General Longstreet, which we did. He ordered us forward toward Chattanooga, and all day long we were sending him couriers, telling him that the enemy had retreated into Chattanooga, leaving behind every evidence of a complete rout and defeat. We secured many prisoners and much abandoned property. On Tuesday, September 22, with the balance of Wheeler’s cavalry, we skirmished with the enemy up to the line of the corporate limits of Chattanooga. We captured the signal flag of the enemy on the point of Lookout Mountain. The officer worked his machine until hands were laid upon him. This ended the battle of Chickamauga, and we left the field on Wednesday, the 23d, with the balance of Wheeler’s cavalry on the raid into Middle Tennessee.
Permit me to say that I never found my regiment in better fighting trim. From the highest ranking officer to the humblest private they seemed to vie with each other in the performance of a soldier’s duty. Where all demeaned themselves with such soldierly fidelity it would be invidious to make individual mention, but I must be permitted to mention the following: Surgeon W. T. Delaney, who was often in the thickest of the battle caring for the dead and wounded, and his assistant, Dr. T. A. Allen. Captain Grissim, Quartermaster, and Capt. R. O. McLean, Commissary, both rendered efficient service upon the field and in attending to the wants of the men. I would like to mention acts of individual courage of men and officers, but time forbids. A grateful country will remember them and embalm their names as heroes worthy of honor and distinction.
I am respectfully,
Paul F. Anderson,
Lieutenant Colonel Commanding Fourth Tennessee Cavalry.
George B. Guild,
Adjutant.
The Regiment remained in the vicinity of Trenton, and were not ordered back to the main army till after the battles of Lookout Mountain, Orchard Knob, and Missionary Ridge had been fought, including the battle of Ringgold, which occurred successively from the 23d to the 27th of November, 1863.
Gen. Joe Hooker’s Corps bravely led the assault up Lookout Mountain. They were gallantly resisted by General Walthall’s brave little brigade of less than one thousand Confederates. General Hooker’s men reached the Cravens house, which stands there still, and is, I suppose, three-fourths of the distance from the base and one-half the altitude of the mountain. Some distance from there the palisades of solid rock rise to the summit of the mountain, a distance of several hundred feet, very precipitately. The enemy halted at the Cravens house for the night. The next morning, everything appearing to be so quiet, a call was made for volunteers to go up and view the situation. A captain and twelve men from a Kentucky regiment went up and reported the fact that a citizen had informed them that “they had left the night before.” This ended the “Battle above the Clouds.” Lookout Mountain and Orchard Knob were both outposts of the army on Missionary Ridge, with small commands at each.
The Confederates were driven from Orchard Knob the next day, and on the third day General Grant assaulted Missionary Ridge with his whole army, attacking the entire line of General Bragg. At some points the line held out bravely, repulsing every assault, and were about to conclude that they had successfully repulsed General Grant’s large army. But at last he penetrated the left of General Bragg’s line, pouring in in large force and, taking the line in reverse, drove the Confederates in rout and confusion from the summit, capturing a large number of prisoners, many of whom, we regret to say, abandoned their colors by voluntarily surrendering to the enemy. No pursuit was made; if there had been, one-half of General Bragg’s force would have been captured. At a favorable position near Ringgold, Ga., Gen. Pat Cleburne placed his division and artillery to await the coming of the enemy. He killed and wounded twenty-five hundred of them, with comparatively little loss of his own. The enemy withdrew and did not attempt to come any farther. The Confederates fell back to Dalton, Ga., and Wheeler’s Cavalry Corps were left on outpost duty at Tunnel Hill, about seven miles north of Dalton.
On the point of Lookout Mountain, near the magnificent monument erected by the State of New York, are quite a number of tablets which were agreed upon and placed there by a joint committee of ex-Federal and ex-Confederate soldiers, with the following inscription upon their faces:
In the battle of Chattanooga, from November 23 to November 27, 1863, which includes Orchard Knob, Lookout Mountain, Missionary Ridge, and Ringgold Gap, Ga., it is authoritatively written that the Confederates had eight divisions and the Federals thirteen.
It must be remembered that the Confederate divisions were much smaller than the Federals’. The enemy had been recruited to the highest point, while the Confederates from long service had but little to draw upon and were very small. The Confederates in these four battles, from November 23 to November 27, lost in killed, wounded, and missing 6,667; the Federal loss in killed and wounded alone was 5,824. The Confederates missing were 4,146; the Federals, comparatively nothing. We know the fact that nearly all the missing from the Confederate ranks were men who voluntarily left their ranks in the rout at Missionary Ridge. The loss of the two armies in killed and wounded, then, was as follows: Federals, 5,824; Confederates, 2,521. The Federal loss in killed and wounded was more than double that of the Confederates in the four engagements.
After the Army of Tennessee had become settled in their winter quarters at Dalton, Ga., in December, 1863, criticism of General Bragg became hot and severe both on the part of the soldiers and the citizens, and a change of commander was demanded of the government; so much so that General Bragg tendered his resignation, and General Joseph E. Johnston was appointed in his stead.
General Braxton Bragg was seemingly a cold, austere officer and a thorough disciplinarian, but no one ever doubted his bravery and patriotism. The greatest battles fought by the Army of Tennessee were fought while he was commander in chief. His plans and orders for battle could not be excelled in their clocklike accuracy. Every soldier knew that when Bragg got ready to fight it was to be a real fight, and some one was sure to be hurt before it was over. He was particularly unfortunate in the failure of his officers in obeying important orders. He died without giving to the public a history of his campaigns, as other generals have done. But we must add that Bragg seemed to lose his head at the supreme moment after gaining a battle and let its fruits slip out of his grasp when he could have accomplished decisive results, as was the case at Murfreesboro and Chickamauga. He was a great favorite with President Davis, and was given a position in the War Department at Richmond. Just before the war closed he was placed in the field again. He fought a battle at Kingston, N. C., defeating General Cox and capturing fifteen hundred prisoners and some field artillery. Let us forget his faults and remember with pride his valor as a soldier and his patriotism to his native Southland.
Gen. Joseph E. Johnston’s appointment to the chief command of the Army of Tennessee was received with much satisfaction by the soldiers. The morale of the army had depreciated after the battle of Chickamauga, and especially after the disastrous rout at Missionary Ridge. The transportation facilities of the army—horses, mules, wagons, etc.—were in bad condition. The ranks had greatly diminished in numbers, and there was no expectation of their being recruited except from conscript camps and the return of absentees. The Confederate armies at Gettysburg and Chickamauga on the two occasions had reached the zenith of their strength and enthusiasm. General Johnston, upon assuming command, soon exhibited his great ability as an organizer, in which he had no superior; and it was but a little while till all of his departments put on a cheery appearance, and, what is better, the morale of his soldiers showed confidence and enthusiasm again. Men and horses were well supplied with good, substantial rations—not dainty food, for it could not be had. Drills of men and officers were held daily, and dress parades were the order of the day. He showed, too, that he was in every sense a thorough disciplinarian. We thought General Bragg was well up in the service in this regard, but General Johnston far excelled him. In the maximum punishment meted out to deserters judge advocates were kept busy. We remember on one occasion to have met Col. Andrew Ewing in the road near Tunnel Hill. While we were talking a volley of musketry was heard from the direction of the infantry encampment at Dalton, when he remarked that the volley had killed twelve deserters. Colonel Ewing was a distinguished lawyer, whose home was at Nashville, and was then Judge-Advocate-General of the army. Notwithstanding this, General Johnston was popular with the soldiers and had their fullest confidence.
General Wheeler’s headquarters were at Tunnel Hill, some seven miles from Dalton. His cavalry were kept busy all winter in scouting and fighting back the enemy. Some of his encounters approached the dignity of a battle, in which he lost in killed and wounded a good many men and inflicted a like loss upon the enemy. The country surrounding Tunnel Hill and Dalton was thin, mountainous land and very poor in production and sparse in population. The subsistence of the army had to be brought there by railway. The soldiers always say that they went hungry longer there than at any other encampment during the war. However, I don’t think any one really suffered.
General Sherman did not begin his march on Atlanta till the 1st of May, 1864. (See Appendix, C.) His army was more than double in number that of General Johnston, and he had all the reserves he could ask for, which he received time and time again before reaching Atlanta. General Johnston had no accessions but, as has been stated, from conscript camps and absentees, except the brigade of General Quarles, from Mobile, and probably some few small detachments of infantry and cavalry from other points in the South that joined during the march to Atlanta.
The Fourth Tennessee Cavalry happened to be holding the advance station in front of Tunnel Hill and on a direct line to Chattanooga when Sherman commenced his march, giving and receiving the first shots that were fired. The cavalry contested every foot of ground to the vicinity of Dalton, having quite a battle on the outskirts of the town. It was ascertained from scouts that Sherman, about the time he began his advance on Tunnel Hill, had sent a large column of his army to the right to flank Dalton. General Johnston had anticipated this movement, and had a strong line of works at Resaca, about fourteen miles below, to which he hastened with his little army. Thus Sherman began what his large force enabled him to do: while he would attack in front with a formidable force, he would use as large a one for flanking purposes against his enemy’s rear. When Sherman came up, a heavy battle took place at Resaca, lasting two days, and in which both sides lost a large number in killed and wounded. It was here that Col. S. S. Stanton, of the Tennessee infantry, was killed. It is not designed in this brief narrative to undertake to describe specifically these battles, and the reader can consult the battle reports. Among others, see the history that General Johnston has contributed of his campaigns to the Southern war lore. We know, however, that Sherman’s losses at Resaca were heavier than the Confederates’; for we fought behind breastworks most of the time, which protected us to some extent. About the second or third day at Resaca, Johnston was forced to fall back to Kingston (or Calhoun), where the Federals were crossing the river. In fact, the Atlanta campaign of Sherman was a series of flank movements upon General Johnston’s army. He would approach his front with a large army and send a like column to the rear to break his communications. The Federal army was driven off at Kingston. The next halt of Johnston’s was near Cassville, Ga., where he issued his well-remembered battle order to the effect that “we would now turn upon the enemy and give battle.” This order, as it was read to the different commands, was received with the wildest enthusiasm. The bright reflection from the long lines of the enemy’s guns across the open space was an inspiration for the troops to move upon them at once. Some delay ensued, when General Johnston was informed by a staff officer from General Hood that the enemy could enfilade his lines, and that he would not be able to hold it. This from one of his highest ranking officers caused him to countermand the order, to the great dissatisfaction of the troops. That night Johnston retired, and it was not surprising that some soldiers dropped out of line, to be picked up by the enemy.
About Allatoona we had some fighting, participated in by detachments of the army. From here General Wheeler was sent back across the river to protect and drive off a force that was destroying some large manufacturing establishments. In the fight that ensued he killed and wounded quite a number of the enemy and destroyed some two hundred wagons. We had some more heavy skirmishing with the enemy at Allatoona; then we were hastened to New Hope, some distance to the right rear, to meet the enemy. On arriving there, the Fourth Tennessee, in conjunction with a brigade of A. P. Stewart’s infantry, had a hard fight, but finally drove the enemy back. The regiment had quite a number of killed and wounded. That evening General Stewart built some temporary breastworks. At night (about ten o’clock, I suppose) a large force of the enemy attacked Stewart’s works, but were repulsed with heavy loss. It is stated that seven hundred and fifty soldiers were found dead in front of General Granberry’s line, and that many of the Federal attacking column were in an intoxicated condition and actually staggered over the works when they were captured. At another time General Bate’s division made an attack upon the enemy protected by breastworks, but was repulsed with heavy loss. There was hard fighting on other portions of the line during our three or four days of battle at New Hope Church, but no general engagement of the army took place.
We left there on a dark, rainy night, going to Marietta. The infantry had preceded us, leaving the cavalry in the ditches; later we followed, leaving about ten o’clock at night. It had been raining, and the road which the infantry had passed over was left much torn up. I remember that a cavalryman just ahead of us went down in a mudhole, horse and rider; and as he scrambled to his feet again, he cried out to the amusement of the boys: “Be aisy, men; old Joe will get them yet.” This was the most comforting expression we heard during the long, dark ride through the slush and mud.
General Johnston fell back to Kennesaw Mountain, and the enemy, coming up, assaulted the position with a large force. “Fighting Joe” Hooker again led the attacking force of the enemy. Gen. Frank Cheatham’s division held the center of the Confederate line, where the most desperate part of the fighting took place, though other portions were hotly engaged. It was a brave attack made by the enemy. Some of them came up to the works, and many of them were killed near our line. The battle lasted several hours before the enemy were repulsed. The next day Sherman asked an armistice to bury his dead, which was granted. General Johnston in his report of the battle says that “the Federal loss was 4,000 or 5,000. More of Sherman’s best soldiers lay dead and wounded than the number of British veterans that fell in General Jackson’s celebrated battle at New Orleans.”
In the vicinity of Kennesaw stands Lone, or Pine, Mountain, somewhat isolated and standing to itself. Lieutenant General Polk had occupied its base with a force in temporary breastworks—to wit, with General Bate’s division. He had gone over with his staff to make observations of the enemy, as it afforded a fine view of the surrounding country. The position of his infantry was a constant target for the enemy’s largest guns. On reaching the summit, Polk and his staff dismounted and, walking out to the front, were plainly seen by the gunners, who immediately commenced a furious cannonade, and about the first shot killed General Polk. His death was greatly lamented by the whole army. He was educated at West Point, but had retired from the army to become a minister of the gospel; and when he enlisted in the Confederate army he was a bishop in the Episcopal Church. Since the beginning of the war he had served most gallantly in the Confederate army as a general in the Army of Tennessee. He had taken a conspicuous part in all of its campaigns and battles. Gen. A. P. Stewart was made lieutenant general in his place, Lieutenant General Hardee having before this been transferred to another department. John B. Hood and A. P. Stewart became lieutenant generals of the Army of Tennessee.
Several hot contests were had with the enemy in the neighborhood of Marietta, amounting frequently to the dignity of a battle. In some of these we remember that Col. Ed Cook, of the Thirty-Second Tennessee, Colonel Walker, of the Third Tennessee, and his adjutant, John Douglas, were among the number killed.
Marietta, Ga., is a distance of some twenty miles from Atlanta, the Chattahoochee River intervening eight or ten miles from the latter city. Its banks are low and approachable, and the river is fordable in many places. Further than the usual cannonading and skirmishing of the two armies, nothing of interest occurred until General Johnston reached Atlanta. General Johnston fought battles out at Peachtree Creek and perhaps at other places. In one of these Colonel Walker, of the Nineteenth Tennessee Infantry, was killed. He was the father of Laps Walker, the well-known and able editor of the Chattanooga Times. Colonel Walker was in command of the brigade when killed. It was well known in the army at this time that General Johnston was making ready to attack Sherman by placing the militia under command of General Smith in the forts and fortifications around Atlanta, and then moving with his entire army to the flank of Sherman, to defeat him and destroy his army before they could reach their base at Chattanooga. The army was in high spirits in anticipation of this movement. Instead of being dispirited by the long retrograde movements, their confidence had increased, and they were ready to obey his every order with supreme confidence in its success.
At this time President Davis visited the army at Atlanta, and in a few days General Johnston was relieved of the command of the Army of Tennessee and Lieut. Gen. J. B. Hood named as his successor. It is said that another had been asked to take the command, but had declined, saying that the army had the supremest confidence in General Johnston. I repeat what was reported and generally believed. Nothing could have overwhelmed both soldiers and citizens with more surprise than this order. Soldiers were speechless, shaking their heads in answer to questions, as much as to say that a great mistake had been made, predicting the most direful results, which were proved in so brief a time afterwards. I remember having heard an able address since the war from that highly intellectual Christian gentleman and splendid soldier, Lieut. Gen. A. P. Stewart, upon this subject. His position in the army and in its councils enabled him to speak advisedly and in stronger and more convincing words than I have used.
The distance from Dalton to Atlanta is about seventy-five miles. The contending armies were seventy days in covering the distance—a little more than a mile a day. It was a great battle scene from its beginning to its close. At night the camp fires of the two armies were visible one from the other. A number of large battles were fought, and many were killed and wounded on both sides. The daytime was an incessant crash of musketry from the skirmishers and heavy cannonading from batteries. In fact, from the number of killed and wounded in many of these skirmishes, they would be called battles at the present time. There was no evidence of rout or hasty retreat on the part of the Confederates along the way, not even the waste of a peck of corn meal.
I notice the statement made in a magazine recently that in looking over the private papers of Mr. Davis there was found a correspondence between him and his Secretary of War, Mr. Benjamin, when the following reasons were assigned for the dismissal of General Johnston: “That he had failed to give battle to the enemy at the many available positions passed from Dalton to Atlanta, and that he now proposed to move upon the enemy with his entire army, leaving the State militia to hold the works at Atlanta.” It has been said, and General Johnston repeats it in his book styled “Johnston’s Narrative of His Campaigns,” that “his loss from Dalton to Atlanta was ten thousand, while that of the enemy was equal to the number of the soldiers then in his army.” I take this to mean at least thirty-five thousand. Sherman was enabled to keep his army up to its original strength by troops sent him from time to time during the campaign. The Confederates had none except those I have mentioned before. General Hood in taking command issued a battle order, and in ten days’ time is said to have lost as many men as Johnston had during the campaign.