CHAPTER XI.
GEN. HOOD’S DISASTROUS CAMPAIGN IN TENNESSEE—THE FATAL MISTAKE—BEFORE FRANKLIN—SCHOFIELD’S STRONGHOLD—EATING HIS LAST RATIONS—THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN—THE REBEL YELL—TERRIFIC MUSKETRY—LOCKED BAYONETS—ONE-THIRD HOOD’S ARMY LOST—CO. K WIPED OUT—LOSSES OF THE “FIRST”—FAITHFUL UNTIL DEATH—THE RETREAT FROM TENNESSEE—THE LAST ROLL CALL.
It was raining slowly as, on Sunday, November 20, the First Alabama formed and marched down to the Tennessee river, crossed the long pontoon bridge, and went into camp four miles beyond. Monday, there was a light fall of snow, and the command advanced but seven miles. At night it turned off very cold, and Tuesday morning the roads were frozen hard. During the day the army crossed the State line of Tennessee, marked by a rough board sign placed by the roadside, every regiment cheering heartily, Tennessee troops being especially enthusiastic. The day’s march was thirteen miles. Wednesday saw us twelve miles on our journey. The day was cold and wintry, and the soldiers, thinly clad and generally without overcoats, suffered keenly. It was slightly warmer on Thursday. As on Wednesday, the route lay through a hostile, mountainous country, and the slow progress made by the artillery and wagon trains, as well as the necessity of keeping the men well closed up, delayed the army, and only twelve miles were made. The mountaineers were mostly Union men, and showed no mercy to stragglers, either killing them outright or horribly maltreating them. On Friday the roads were better; the mountains were behind us; and as the troops passed through Henryville they were met with friendly greetings. The First Alabama went into camp two miles beyond Henryville, having marched fifteen miles, the best score since crossing the river. Saturday, the people were still more cordial, and the troops were cheered at Mount Pleasant. Sixteen miles had been tramped when the First went into camp eight miles from Columbia. On Sunday, the 27th, Stewart’s corps arrived at Columbia, invested by Lee’s corps the preceding day. At dusk the First Alabama were sent to the skirmish line. During the night the enemy evacuated the town, taking position on the other side of Duck River. The regiment remained in camp Monday. Gen. Forrest crossed four miles above Columbia on that day; and, a pontoon bridge having been put down, Cheatham’s and Stewart’s corps and Johnson’s division of Lee’s corps followed on the 29th. Schofield at once withdrew, and now began a spirited race for Franklin on parallel roads, the Federals having the advantage of holding the regular pike, while the Confederates marched over rough by-roads and through the fields. There was brisk skirmishing throughout the day between the flankers; but Cheatham, who had forged far enough ahead to have thrown his corps across the pike, failed to execute Hood’s positive orders to do so. Hood then ordered Stewart’s corps to the front to make the attack, but by the time they got up it was dark, and the men could not be got into proper position to ensure success. The two corps bivouacked at Spring Hill, and Schofield’s army, unmolested, filed by so near that their wagons could be heard on the stony pike. This blunder lost Hood the Tennessee campaign. Gen. Hood states that Gen. Cheatham afterwards magnanimously acknowledged his error. Even Hood did not place any blame upon the army for this failure to attack. The soldiers were greatly fatigued after the twenty miles’ march of the day; but would have gallantly responded to the order to attack, and themselves wondered why it was not given.
On the morning of November 30th the race was renewed, but Schofield had the advantage of being ahead of his foes. He was so hardly pushed, however, that he was obliged to sacrifice a considerable portion of his wagon train, overturning and burning the wagons or cutting down the wheels, and shooting the animals whenever they blocked the retreat of the infantry. In some cases whole teams could be seen lying dead in the traces. At another point a quartermaster’s wagon had been overturned, and for rods around the road and fields were strewn with blankets. About noon, when four miles south of Franklin, the Federal cavalry deployed along a wooded crest running at right angles to the Columbia pike, and covered the wearied infantry while filing into the entrenchments at Franklin.
These entrenchments had been carefully constructed, and had already received their baptism of blood the year prior (April 10, 1863), when Gen. Van Dorn attacked Gen. Granger and was repulsed. The inner line was a regularly constructed earthwork, with a ditch on the outside about three feet deep and five feet wide. From the bottom of the ditch to the top of the parapet was at least six or seven feet. Heavy timbers or head logs crowned the top of the parapet, space being left between the logs and earth to allow the soldiers to fire. An abattis of black locust protected the front. Two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards in front of this—an open field with gentle slope intervening—was another connected line of earthworks, made by digging a ditch about eighteen inches or two feet in depth, and throwing the earth to the front. Outside of this, again, were detached rifle pits. This was the nature of the works on each side the Columbia pike, where the heaviest fighting took place. The works extended around Franklin in a semi-circle, touching Big Harpeth River above and below the town, a length of a mile and a half.
As Stewart’s corps, which was in the advance, came up, the Federal cavalry also withdrew into Franklin. The Confederate forces rapidly deployed, Stewart’s corps forming the right and Cheatham’s the left, Johnston’s division of Lee’s corps being still in the rear. Stewart’s corps was formed in line of battle between the Nashville and Decatur Railroad and the Lewisburg pike, about one and a quarter miles from Franklin and three-quarters of a mile from the Union lines. The corps was so fronted that an advance would take it across the railroad, striking the enemy’s main line near the Columbia pike. Walthall’s division was in the centre, with Quarles’ brigade on the right. In front of Walthall was a deep cut in the railroad, which was not discovered till the advance had begun, and which necessitated his moving by the left flank, as subsequently stated, to avoid the obstacle. Much straggling had been caused by the forced marches of the two preceding days, and probably not over 15,000 or 16,000 men of Stewart’s and Cheatham’s corps were engaged in the battle, and Johnston’s division, say 2,000 or 3,000 men, did not take part till the main attack had failed, about 7, P. M. The artillery, with the exception of a section of two Napoleon guns, did not participate in the battle. Forrest’s cavalry was held in reserve on the flanks, Gen. Forrest himself being with the infantry during the charge.
Gen. Schofield’s force was composed of the Fourth Corps, which was officially reported ten days after the battle to have numbered 14,172 men, the Twenty-third Corps, 10,207 men, and the Forty-fourth Missouri and Seventy-second Illinois unassigned. A Federal officer present stated that they had more men than could stand at the works, the lines being in some places six deep, those in rear loading for those in front.
The spirit of the Confederate troops, while not enthusiastic, was good. While waiting the completion of the formation, the men of the regiments first in line were quietly discussing the probable issue of the impending battle; some with an eye to the future were picking white beans from the dead vines in a field in our front; others, no less industrious, were eating every crumb in their haversacks. Among the latter was poor Brown of Co. K, who, on being remonstrated with for his imprudence, replied that he would be killed; his forebodings proved too correct; one hour later he was dead.
About half-past three the command “Attention!” ran quietly along Stewart’s lines; a detail was ordered to the front to throw down a rail fence, and then came the orders “Forward!” “Double quick!” For two hundred yards the advance was through a corn-field, the dead stalks of which, of giant dimensions, were crossed and interlaced in every direction. When the farther side of the field was reached the command was halted, moved by the flank to the left, and the alignment corrected. The enemy’s works were now in full view, and not over a half mile distant. Immediately in the front of the First Alabama there was a valley with a small stream of water at the bottom, the descent and ascent on the other side being quite sharp. An open grove of sugar maples, entirely free of underbrush, extended to the Federal rifle pits. Away to the right the rattle of musketry showed that the battle had begun, and the order, “Skirmishers to the front!” almost immediately followed. The latter moved rapidly forward, availing themselves of the cover of the large maples and firing slowly as they advanced. As yet not a bullet had whistled by us, and it was hard to realize that it was more than a skirmish drill, with such precision did the men move.
By the time the skirmishers were fifty yards away there came the orders, “Forward! Double quick!” Down the hill, across the brook, up the slope, over the railroad; then came the first deadly Yankee greeting—a shrapnel bursting in the ranks of Co. E, killing and wounding nine men. In three minutes more the space was covered, the Confederates were past the rifle pits and in the outer line of the enemy’s works. Most of the Federals occupying them surrendered and were sent to the rear; many of those who tried to run back to the main line were shot down.
For an instant the line was halted and the men lay down in the captured works. Not a stump nor a stone obstructed the open field, on the farther side of which, behind their entrenchments, lay the main body of the enemy. To the right the roll of musketry was unintermitted, but immediately in our front, except from the Federal artillery, there was a momentary lull. It was but for a moment, then the order “Forward!” was repeated down the line. The men sprang to their feet, for the first time in the battle gave the “rebel yell,” and dashed forward, corps, division, and brigade officers leading in the assault. At the same instant a sheet of smoke shot out from the earthworks in front, thickening, as volley after volley poured forth, into a great white bank, but broken every moment by tongues of flame from the cannon. Looming up above the smoke in shadowy form, like some old tower, just inside the enemy’s works, were the huge timbers of a cotton-press; this was the only landmark; all else was hidden. But few shots were fired by the Confederates as they dashed forward, for, though there were no orders, each man instinctively felt that this was to be a struggle man to man. Two Napoleon guns, run forward by hand on the Columbia pike, kept well up with the line of battle and were fired steadily. No other artillery on the Confederate side fired a shot. The roar of the Federal musketry was something never to be forgotten; not even the Napoleons, nor the siege guns, firing from the fort on the other side of the river, could be heard distinct from that terrific volume of sound; yet the Confederates moved forward towards this death-dealing bank of smoke with all the precision of battalion drill. At the distance of forty yards from the works the Confederate line was unbroken and had suffered comparatively little loss. The effect of this solid, steady charge was such that Federal officers afterwards acknowledged that they could with difficulty keep their men from going to the rear. When within forty yards the enemy’s fire began to tell, and the Confederates fell rapidly. The enemy fired remarkably low, due, it is said, to their simply laying their muskets on the slope of the parapet and pulling the trigger without exposing themselves to take aim. At last the ditch was reached; some of the assailants dashed through the embrasures of the battery; others tried to clamber over the parapet, and others exchanged shots with the Federals under the head logs. Men were brained with butts of muskets or bayonetted on the parapet, while the flanking fire of the angles soon filled the ditch with the dead and dying; a few got inside of the works unscathed and were taken prisoners. Just to the left of the pike the Confederates broke the Federal line, and for a short time held one of their batteries, but the Federal reserve charged, and after a desperate struggle regained possession. This was the situation at dark: the opposing forces confronting one another, with but a bank of earth between, like two stags of the forest head to head and antlers locked. Johnston’s division coming up at 7, P. M., made a gallant effort to turn the evenly-balanced scale, but only added to Hood’s already appalling losses. About 9, P. M., the firing slackened and the roar of musketry gradually died away, but was renewed at intervals as one or the other side perceived or suspected some movement of its foe.
So soon as the Federals were satisfied that the assault was over, they commenced quietly to withdraw, and by 3 o’clock the next morning they were safely across the river.
Daylight revealed to the Confederates their fearful loss; in front of some portions of the works the ground was covered with the dead. Report at the time placed the Confederate loss at 1,500 killed and 3,000 wounded. Hood, in his despatches from the battle-field, gave his loss at 4,500 killed, wounded and prisoners, the last being estimated at 1,000. Swinton, the historian, gives the Confederate loss as 1,739 killed, 3,850 wounded and 702 prisoners; total, 6,201. This would, in a measure, agree with Hood’s own statement in “Advance and Retreat,” where he places his total losses from all causes, from November 6th to December 10th, 7,547; this includes the losses at Columbia and in Forrest’s skirmishes. It will thus be seen that nearly one-third of those engaged were killed and wounded, and that one-tenth were killed. Probably there never was a battle fought on the American continent, between civilized armies, where the slaughter was so great as in Hood’s army. The Federals reported their loss at 189 killed, 1,033 wounded and 1,104 prisoners; total, 2,326. Their report of killed is, in the writer’s opinion, understated, though the total may be correct. It was reported at the time that 300 Federal dead lay in the rear of the centre, where the heaviest fighting took place.
The casualties among the Confederate general officers were unparalleled, and their reckless exposure of their lives was the general subject of comment in the army. Nearly all went into the charge mounted, and Gens. Cleburne and Adams were killed while trying to spur their horses over the breastworks. Maj.-Gen. P. R. Cleburne and Brig.-Gens. Gist, John Adams, Strahl and Granberry were killed; Maj.-Gen. Brown and Brig.-Gens. Carter, Marrigault, Quarles, Cockrell and Scott wounded, and Brig.-Gen. Gordon was captured. Of Gen. Quarles’ staff all were killed and wounded but the General’s son, a lad of fourteen, who seized the brigade flag when the color-bearer fell, and bore it inside the enemy’s works. Dismounted in the melee, he tore the flag from the staff, concealed it under his coat and got safely out with it.
Of Co. K, eleven men went into the charge; of these, two were killed, four wounded and two taken prisoners. Private C. W. Brown was shot through the heart, Private J. W. May was killed on breastworks by the butt of a musket, Lieut. Smith received a ball in the face, breaking the lower jaw, when near the main line of the enemy; Sergt. C. H. Royals was shot in the knee in the ditch and captured, but left behind when the enemy retreated; Serg. Averheart was wounded in the abdomen by a pistol bullet; Corp. Tunnell was shot through one thigh and across the other; Private W. L. Ellis was captured in the ditch, and Private J. C. Hearn sprang through the embrasure of the battery and was captured inside the enemy’s lines. He relates that he placed his hand on the 12-pounder as he went in, and that it was so hot that it burned him. Corp. Rice and Privates A. D. Ellis and John Killough escaped unhurt. Of the members of Co. K not in the charge three were detailed, three were in the rear, footsore, barefoot or sick, and one—E. Hearn—had accidentally shot himself through the hand. A singular fatality followed the members of the Brown family in Co. K. There were three brothers—A. Pinkney, Elnathan and C. Wesley Brown—and a brother-in-law, J. A. Fergerson. The first two died of disease, and the last two were killed in battle. All were good men and brave, reliable soldiers. A fourth brother—Richard—who belonged to another command, lost an arm in battle. The loss in the regiment was about 150 out of 300 engaged. The color-guard were all killed or wounded. Lieut. Crymes, of Co. I, went over the entrenchments, and, refusing to surrender, was shot dead while waving his sword and calling to his men to follow. Maj. Knox was mortally wounded, Capt. Williams was taken prisoner, and the command of the remnant of the regiment devolved upon Lieut. McRae.
Corp. Rice collected together, on the morning after the battle, six men of Co. K, viz.: Privates T. M. Boggan, Day, A. D. Ellis, Killough, Martin and John Tunnell, and proceeded with the regiment to Nashville, where, some days later, O. Sergt. Alexander and private Moncrief rejoined the command.
Companies C and K were now united, and Orderly-Sergt. Alexander, of Co. K, was placed in command; Sergt. Blaylock, of Co. C, being second. The weather was extremely cold, and as nearly all the remnant of Co. K were barefoot and thinly clad, they suffered severely.
On December 15th, the first day of the battle of Nashville, Stewart’s corps occupied the left of Hood’s army. The First Alabama was stationed on the left flank of the corps, at right angles to the main line, behind a stone wall on the Hillsboro’ pike. In response to a call for sharpshooters, Sergt. Alexander detailed T. M. Boggan, Killough and Moncrief to go to an outlying redoubt on the extreme left. The ground was covered with snow and ice. Late in the evening the enemy advanced in two heavy lines on the left, and, overlapping the Confederates, captured the redoubt, and appeared in the rear of the stonewall. The First had up to this time successfully held their ground against the attack in front, but now had to fall back, a considerable number being captured. Of Co. K, Moncrief was captured in the redoubt, and Sergt. Alexander, Corp. Rice and Private A. D. Ellis at the stonewall. T. M. Boggan, in attempting to leave the redoubt, was seriously wounded in the thigh and captured; he recovered from his wounds, and remained at Camp Chase till the war closed. Day, Killough, Martin and John Tunnell succeeded in escaping. The “First” was hotly engaged again on the 16th, and in the two days lost some 75 killed, wounded and prisoners.
The retreat from Tennessee abounds with incidents, but they belong either to the history of the army or to personal experience. Gen. Walthall commanded the rear-guard, of which Gen. Obdycke, the Northern officer who restored Schofield’s broken lines at Franklin, says:—“The rear-guard remained firm, and did its work bravely to the last.... Walthall and Forrest selected one position after another with such unerring judgment that even Wilson and Wood were unable to gain any important advantage during a period of twelve days, and over a distance of 100 miles.” As in the advance, so in the retreat, the ragged remnant of the First Alabama was always ready for duty—“faithful even unto death.”
The following letter from Gen. E. C. Walthall to the writer testifies to their services:—
“Grenada, Miss., April 20, 1885.
“My Dear Sir:—Your letter written to me at Washington was mislaid but not forgotten. Gen. Quarles’ brigade was with us on the retreat from Nashville, and the First Alabama Regiment was along. The rear-guard was composed of eight brigades, but they were all so small that I temporarily consolidated them in four. Quarles’ and Featherston’s were put in one, commanded by Gen. Featherston. The troops all behaved splendidly, and their services were all of great value.
“Your friend truly,
“E. C. Walthall.”
Wounded men got out as best they could, many hobbling along the frozen pikes on crutches. Among these were all the members of Co. K wounded at Franklin. Shoal Creek, a stream swollen at that time to formidable proportions, seemed at one time to have cut off the retreat of the cripples, but kind-hearted cavalrymen carried those across who could not wade. It was nearly 100 yards wide, with a rocky bottom full of holes. In one instance, seen by the writer, a mule slipping threw a cripple into water nearly to his armpits; but the soldier held on to his crutches, and without assistance finally hobbled ashore. A cavalryman who had already carried several over returned, against the remonstrances of his companions, and took the writer across. The next morning, Saturday, December 24, the crowd of wounded men were ferried across the Tennessee in pontoon boats at a point near Florence, Ala., and were safe.
The First Alabama arrived at Verona, Miss., on January 16, 1865; thence they were ordered to report to Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, in North Carolina. Six of Co. K were with the regiment: Corp. Josiah Tunnell, Privates Griffin, Killough, Martin, Robinson and John Tunnell. The regiment, numbering about 100 men, participated in the last two battles of the war, Averysboro and Bentonville. On the last day of the second battle, at sundown, Lieut. William Williamson, Co. C, a gallant Christian gentlemen, was mortally wounded. The First Alabama was present, and ended its untarnished career at the surrender of Gen. Johnston’s army at Greensboro’, N. C., on the 27th of April, 1865. Those of Co. K present at the surrender arrived at Prattville about the middle or last of May, but it was about the 1st of July before all the scattered band got to their homes.
John Killough, John and Josiah Tunnell won the honorable distinction of being present when the company was mustered in and when it was disbanded. If the writer remembers correctly, the first two mentioned were never absent during the three years of service except when the main body of the regiment were prisoners of war or paroled. The last named of the three was also present except for two brief intervals, during one of which he was at the hospital, wounded.
Death, wounds, disease and imprisonment—the sad fortunes of war—kept others from sharing this honor.