Forty-Six Years in the Army

by John McAllister Schofield

When all our efforts to accomplish decisive results by partial operations upon the flanks had failed, this question was much discussed: What more decisive movement shall next be made for the capture of Atlanta? There were practically but two propositions to be considered: That of General Sherman, which was adopted with success; and that heretofore referred to as having never been tried, to detach two or more corps to make a lodgment on the railroad at or below East Point, and then compel the enemy to come out of Atlanta and endeavor to regain control of his only line of supply, or abandon that city altogether. General Sherman thought it too hazardous to detach two corps, though he was willing for me to undertake it with one. In fact, this feeling marked General Sherman's action throughout the campaign. He had no hesitation in detaching a small force, the loss of which would still leave him greatly superior in numbers to the enemy, or a very large force under his own command, leaving the enemy to the care of the smaller part, as in his march to Savannah. General Thomas, on the contrary, thought the movement proposed by General Sherman "extra hazardous," as Sherman says in his "Memoirs" (Vol. II, page 106). I did not regard either of them as very hazardous, and upon consideration rather preferred General Sherman's, because I thought it could not fail to be decisive of the capture of Atlanta, while the other might fail if not executed with promptness and vigor, and this, experience had warned us, we could not be quite sure of.

JOHNSTON'S UNTRIED PLAN OF RESISTANCE

Some time after the war, that very able commander General Joseph E. Johnston told me that in his judgment Sherman's operations in Hood's rear ought not to have caused the evacuation of Atlanta; that he (Johnston), when in command, had anticipated such a movement, and had prepared, or intended to prepare, to oppose it by constructing artillery redoubts at all suitable points in the rear of Atlanta, as well as in front, which redoubts could be very speedily connected by infantry intrenchments whenever necessary; that he aimed to keep on longer than Sherman's army could subsist on the contents of their wagons and haversacks; and that Sherman could not possibly hold all the railroads leading into Atlanta at the same time, nor destroy any one of them so thoroughly that it could not be repaired in time to replenish Johnston's supplies in Atlanta.

Here is presented a question well worthy of the candid study of military critics. Whatever may be the final judgment upon that question, it seems perfectly clear that Johnston's plan of defense ought at least to have been tried by his successor. If Hood had kept all his troops in compact order about Atlanta, he would have been in the best possible condition to resist Sherman if the latter turned back from Jonesboro' and attacked Atlanta from the rear, or to strike Sherman's rear or flank in full force if he made any other movement. The division of Hood's forces at that time, one part holding on to Atlanta while the other went to head off Sherman, was the worst disposition that could have been made.

As related to me personally by General Sheridan,—for I have not yet studied the Virginia campaigns so thoroughly as to justify me in speaking from the records,—it was a similar mistake on the part of the Confederate cavalry commander J. E. B. Stuart, in trying to get between Sheridan and Richmond, which gave Sheridan the advantage and led to Stuart's defeat. Stuart had ridden hard all night, and got between Sheridan and Richmond, his men and horses exhausted, while Sheridan had been resting and feeding his own men and animals. In the morning Sheridan "rode over" his exhausted antagonist. These are among the many cases where exaggerated ideas of the importance of places have led to the defeat of armies. I knew Stuart well at West Point, he having been in the class next to mine. He then gave promise of his future as a cavalry leader.

The only specially hazardous part of Sherman's movement was that which would fall to my lot—namely, to hold the "pivot" against a possible attack of Hood's whole army while Thomas and Howard should swing round it, and then draw out and join them after the swing was made. Upon my reporting that I was perfectly willing to undertake this task, and had no doubt of the ability of my corps to accomplish it, all question about making the movement appeared to be settled, and it was at once ordered. Hood did not avail himself of his opportunity to attack me when alone, either in position or in motion, hence my part of the movement proved easiest of all.

I had placed my corps in a completely inclosed field-work, large enough to contain all my trains, and strong enough to resist any attack from a greatly superior force until Sherman's movement could be accomplished.

ANECDOTES OF THE MEN IN THE RANKS

I recollect even to this day a little incident of that time which was, at least to me, both amusing and instructive. After receiving Sherman's orders, which meant "suspend aggressive work and go to fortifying," I was directing the laying out of the new work at the most important part of the line, and the men had been ordered to commence digging, when I heard an old volunteer, as he laid aside his gun and put off his accoutrements with manifest reluctance, say, sotto voce: "Well, if digging is the way to put down the rebellion, I guess we will have to do it." Our old soldiers had a "mind of their own," and were not afraid to let their commanders know it; yet they were essentially as thoroughly subordinate and reliable as any troops any general ever had the honor to command.

I now recall another incident which occurred a few days earlier, in which a young Indiana volunteer was somewhat less respectful, though he had no idea whom he was addressing, nor, probably, any thought whatever about "relative rank." I had come out from my tent, before sunrise in the morning, and was performing my morning ablutions in the ordinary camp basin, preparatory to putting on my outer clothing. None of my "people" were yet up, and the night sentinel of my camp was a little way off. There came up a weary, belated soldier who had, perhaps, been trudging along much of the night, trying to overtake his regiment. I heard him ask in a loud voice: "Where is the 128th Indiana?" Not supposing the question was addressed to me, I did not look up. Then came in still louder tones and in an amended form which left no room for doubt as to whom it was addressed: "I mean you old fellow there with the red shirt! Where is the 128th Indiana?"