Personal Recollections of Distinguished Generals

by William Franklin Gore Shanks

The name and fame of General Joe Hooker are, as they ought to be, dear to every American, for he is eminently a national man. Born in Massachusetts, he has resided in every section of the country, and is cosmopolitan in habits and ideas. Nature never made him for one part of the land. He has fought over every part of the country from Maryland to Mexico, from the Potomac to beyond the Rio Grande, and from a private citizen of the most westerly district of California, he rose to command as brigadier general of the regular army in the most easterly department of the reunited country. Every Californian, if not every American, is proud of Joe Hooker, for he is a representative man of that peculiar race of pioneers drawn from every state of the Union and nationality of the globe.

Hooker is naturally a fighting man, a belligerent by nature as much as Philip Sheridan, and he insists on forcing every dispute to the arbitrament of arms. Actual blows satisfy him best, and, from the very nature of his mental organization, "war to the knife" is an admitted motto with him. A curious accident gave Hooker the title of "Fighting Joe;" but few of the multitude who read of him under that appellation, and none of those who, in the heat of political and partisan discussion, which during the war seemed to partake of the extreme bitterness created by the conflict, endeavored to ridicule both person and expression, suspected how accurately the title described the character of the man. A man born with this disposition would naturally seek the army. Hooker entered West Point and studied his way through with a zeal and industry which must have placed him higher than twenty-eight in a class of fifty graduates had he not, like Sheridan, suffered for his belligerency in the estimation of the staid and steady professors of that institute. He was not a student, nor was he an idler, nor yet a plodding, industrious, dull scholar, who learned with great difficulty, and retained only what he was taught. On the contrary, he was quick to learn, original in applying what he learned, and critical of the ideas and facts taught him. At West Point he as frequently criticised the rules of war laid down by the authorities of the past age as in the field as a general he was free in criticising his contemporaries. He got through the course creditably in 1837, and managed, being still young, and the belligerency of his nature not fully developed, to exist in the quiet position of adjutant of West Point. Afterward he also managed to endure the monotony of the adjutant general's department for five years, until the war with Mexico broke out, when he sought adventure, promotion, and fame in the active service. The Mexican War was the great opportunity of many young lives, the practical schooling of nearly all who distinguished themselves during the late war for the Union. To Hooker, young, ambitious, and belligerent, the opportunity was highly welcomed. The declaration of war was hailed by him with an intense joy that would have horrified his Puritan fathers if they could have been cognizant of it.

Hooker's career in Mexico was not remembered when the rebellion began, or he would have earlier stood high in the confidence of the government, for it was among the most brilliant of the many successes attained by the many very able young men engaged in that war. To have risen under the old and very faulty organization of the army in a short war, in which there were few casualties, from a lieutenant to be brevetted lieutenant colonel of the regular army, was no small achievement. Hooker was successively brevetted captain, major, and lieutenant colonel "for gallant and meritorious conduct" in the several conflicts at Monterey, in the affair at the National Bridge, and in the assault of Chapultepec. He was detailed, if I remember rightly, early in the campaign as adjutant general on the staff of General Gideon Pillow, and, though Gabriel Rains and Ripley were associated with him on duty, it was generally understood and felt that the young chief of staff furnished all the brains and most of the energy and industry to be found at the head-quarters of the division. Pillow, Rains, and Ripley became somewhat notorious during the late rebellion as officers of the rebel army. During the war with Mexico sectional feeling ran high on the subject of supporting the administration in the prosecution of an offensive war, and very often young Hooker was compelled to hear tirades uttered by these Southern officers against his native state, which gave only a lukewarm support to the war of invasion which that against Mexico was deemed, but he never allowed them to pass unreproved or unresented. A less positive character than Hooker might have been influenced in his state allegiance by such surroundings in a camp composed almost exclusively of Southern soldiers, and at a head-quarters where prevailed the most intensely bitter sectionalism which then disgraced the army. The discussions which grew out of the objections which the young chief of staff took to the peculiar views of the embryo rebels only served to confirm him in his adherence to and love of the government; and none of the old army officers entered into the war for the Union with more alacrity or with a clearer conception of the desperate purposes and characters of the traitors than did Joe Hooker.

The peace which ensued in 1847 found Hooker with the natural belligerency of his quick temper fully developed, his ambition fired, and his restless activity of mind and body increased. He had no disposition to return to the monotony of the adjutant general's office, or to that quiet of garrison duty, that a captain of artillery, which he had become, would have to endure. The unadventurous career which a professional life in a settled country among civilized people promised was also without charms to his restless mind. He remained in the army only as long as the prospect of service in Mexico and on the Pacific Coast had any promise of activity; but soon finding that the peace which followed the Mexican War was likely to be profound and undisturbed, he resigned his commission, and plunged into the excitement of pioneer life in the newly-discovered gold regions of California. He purchased a ranche across the bay from the city of San Francisco, and for a short time became interested in the, to him, novel duties of a farmer. It is natural to suppose that this monotonous existence soon became painfully dull to a person of Hooker's restless disposition. The ranche was neglected for other objects affording more excitement and adventure; but by the year 1860 this existence had lost many of its charms, and Hooker again found the "horrors of peace" upon him. Peace, it must be known, has its horrors for some men, just as the calm has its terrors for the seaman. The consequence was that Hooker fell into some of the bad habits which follow idleness. He was a "fish out of water," with nothing of an agreeable character to do, and he restlessly ran into some excesses, which I have heard his California friends allude to as the process of "going to the dogs." His business-character suffered, but not his social standing. His ranche was neglected and went to ruin. His health became somewhat impaired, when, fortunately for him, the rebellion broke out. He hastened to Washington to offer his services to the President.

He succeeded after much difficulty in obtaining a commission, and gladly launched again into active service. He became a changed man. He had abandoned his bad habits with the ease and readiness of a man of resolute and determined mind, and now, engaged in that profession which had every charm for him, he began in earnest the prosecution of the true aim of his life. He believed in fate and destiny; believed that strong minds and brave hearts control their own fortunes; and, with firm confidence in himself, announced to his friends, who congratulated him on his appointment, that one day he would be at the head of the army, of which he was then only a brigade commander.

If Hooker's military career be examined critically, it will be found that his success as a leader has been due to the impetuosity, boldness, and energy with which he fights. His presence on a battle-field may be said to be calculated to supply all deficiencies in the discipline of the troops. His presence and demeanor inspired his troops with the qualities of courage and daring which distinguished himself, and restored morale to broken columns with the same success as that which ever marked the presence of Philip Sheridan. As commander of the Army of the Potomac, General Hooker never met with brilliant success. He assumed command at a time when the bitter jealousies which disgraced that army most impaired its energies and retarded its action. He had little of the love or admiration, and, consequently, little of the genuine support of his subordinate commanders; while he was, by reason of his promotion, farther removed from immediate direction of his troops, and the inspiration of his presence was lost on those who had learned to believe in him.

Success with Hooker depended upon his immediate presence with his troops, and to remove him from close intimacy with them was to impair his effectiveness. No one will attempt to deny that Hooker held such an inspiring control over his men, and that his presence among his troops in battle had much to do with their effectiveness. He was what has been called "a powerful presence." He was destined for a leader, not a director of troops, and hence his great success has been as the leader of fractional corps of great armies. His battles on the Peninsula; his vigorous pursuit of the rebels from Yorktown; his conduct throughout the "battle-week on the Chickahominy," and his engagement at Malvern Hill, were the deeds which are familiarly known throughout the country. His success as the commander of a corps in the West has become not less familiar to the public; and his achievements at Lookout Mountain, Resaca, and before Atlanta, will be the basis for the establishment of his true character as a military man. I do not mean by this to say that Hooker can not command with success a great army. I have no personal knowledge of his career as a commanding general, but from his mental organization it is evident that he is greater as a leader than as a director of men. My personal recollections of Hooker's battles are confined to a few, the most remarkable of which was the battle of Lookout Mountain. The "battle above the clouds," as the assault of Lookout Mountain was called, was one of the most remarkable operations of the war. The mountain which was carried is fourteen hundred feet above the Tennessee River, and was held by a force of at least six thousand rebels strongly fortified. It is not a regular slope from the summit of Lookout to the foot, but the first twenty-five or thirty feet of the descent is perpendicular rocks, or what is generally understood to be meant by "palisades." These are very high and grand, and there are but two routes by which they can be overcome. One of these is a gap twenty miles south of the point on the Tennessee River where the assault was made. The other is by a road to Summertown, which winds up the east side of the mountain, ascending the palisades by a steep acclivity and narrow road. General Hooker's plan of operation was to get possession of the road. To do so was to gain possession of the mountain. He must be a regular mountaineer who can unopposed make the ascent of the Lookout without halting several times to rest; and the story of the assault seems incredible to one standing on the summit, where the rebels were posted, and looking at the rough ascent over which Hooker charged. Only a general in whom the disposition to fight was largely developed could have conceived such a project, and only troops inspired by the presence of one whom they knew to be a brave and daring leader could have executed the ambitious plan. It was planned in all its details, and executed in all its completeness by Hooker. The original intention of General Grant, who was commander-in-chief, was to attack Lookout with a force only sufficiently large to keep busy the rebel force occupying it while the main attack was made elsewhere. The destruction of a pontoon bridge, which connected Hooker's camp with that of the main army, forced Grant to leave him a much larger corps than he had at first intended, and he then gave Hooker permission to assault the mountain with all his force. The order was received about noon on the 25th of November, 1863, but before nightfall General Hooker had planned and had executed an attack which was as brilliant as daring. Two months' observation of the mountain from his camp in the valley had given him a full knowledge of all its outlines, its roads, etc., and it is easy to believe that the plan which Hooker decided upon had had for some time a place in his mind. It was as unique in conception as it proved successful in execution.

A small force under General Osterhaus was ordered to make a feint upon the enemy's rifle-pits at the point (or "nose," as Rosecrans calls it) of the mountain, while with Geary, and Ireland, and Crufts, and Whitaker, General Hooker moved up the valley west of the mountain until a mile in rear of the enemy's position; the troops then ascended the side of the range until the head of the column reached the palisades which crown the mountain, and formed in line of battle at right angles with them; they then marched forward as Osterhaus made a sharp attack as a feint, and, by taking the rebel works in flank and rear, secured about thirteen hundred prisoners. The enemy fled around the "nose" of the mountain, closely pursued, to a position on the opposite side, where Hooker again attacked. After one or two desperate efforts the rebel works were carried, but it was at such a late hour (midnight) that it was impossible to dislodge them from the Summertown road, a route by which they evacuated during the night. Hooker made a great reputation by his unique plan, and the vigor with which he executed it. The battle on the other parts of the line were suspended for that day, and Hooker on the mountain became the "observed of all observers." The troops in the valley watched him and his Titans with equal admiration and astonishment; astonishment at the success attained, and admiration of the daring displayed. When our troops turned the point of the mountain, taking the rebels in rear, capturing many and pursuing the rest rapidly, the troops in the Valley of Chattanooga cheered them repeatedly. As the lines of Hooker would advance after nightfall, those in Chattanooga and the valley could see the fires built by the reserves springing up and locating the advancing columns. As each line became developed by these fires, those on the mountain could plainly hear the loud cheers of their comrades below. One of the expressions used by a private who was watching the fires from Orchard Knob grew at once into the dignity of a camp proverb. On seeing the line of camp-fires advanced beyond the last line of rifle-pits of the enemy, a soldier in General Wood's command sprang up from his reclining position on Orchard Knob and exclaimed,

"Look at old Hooker: don't he fight for 'keeps?'"

"Fighting for keeps" is army slang, and signifies fighting in deadly earnest.