Personal Recollections of Distinguished Generals

by William Franklin Gore Shanks

Yet some few of them did not lack in ability, or the industry, energy, and courage which creates opportunity and wins renown. One of those whom circumstances robbed of his just renown, and who is now generally looked upon as one of the greatest failures of the war, was to my mind one of our ablest soldiers, and, as a tactician, was the equal of Grant or Thomas, or any of their subordinates. General Don Carlos Buell was a perfect soldier—perfect in manner, bearing, coolness, courage, energy—physically and mentally a perfect soldier—but he failed. If he had a fault, it resulted from education, and from this fault came this failure. "A little learning is a dangerous thing," as Pope, Bulwer Lytton, and every other person who has attempted to dispense knowledge second-handed has discovered to his sorrow; but there is also such a thing as drinking too deep of the "Pierian Spring." To be a valedictorian is quite often to be an unfortunate; and more signal failures have emanated from the first section (Engineer) graduates of West Point, and the valedictorians of Yale and Hartford, than from less brilliant, less studious, but more practically educated classes of the same institutions. Not one of the valedictorians of West Point, from the time at which class-rank was first established—1820, I believe—has ever made a great success in practical life, and few of them have ever been famous outside of the army. They are learned and able undoubtedly, but they lack in practicability, and, when they come to wrestle with the world, find themselves ill adapted to the struggle. The Engineer Corps of the army into which the higher graduates of the Academy are placed has given us fewer successful soldiers than the Infantry, which is considered the lowest arm of the service. All of the engineers have, as generals, been visibly affected in their administration, strategy, and tactics by their education, and have preferred to depend more upon mud walls than living phalanges, and their strategic marches have been more correct in mathematical calculations than successful in execution. Benham, Stevens, Franklin, W. H. C. Whiting, McPherson, McClellan, Lee, and dozens of others I could name, have in the late war proven this to be true; and Quincy A. Gilmore has proved about the only exception to the rule, doubtless from the fact that after his graduation he left the Engineer Corps for the Artillery.

Buell was not exactly a valedictorian, and was not in the Engineer Corps, but nevertheless he was one to whom all this I have said and exampled is applicable. He was not made impracticable, but too methodical by his pupilage. Not too much learning, but too much routine ruined him. He was not too much of a book-worm, but too much of a red tapist. His Alma Mater was not West Point, but that more pitiless school, the adjutant general's office. Thirteen years' constant service in that department of the army made him too systematic—smothered the fire in his heart, the impulsive in his nature, and, like Thomas, he taught himself "not to feel." It rendered him cool in danger, while not depriving him of his readiness in emergency, but it also unfortunately made him so systematic that it injured the originality of his conceptions. The adjutant general's office made him too much of a regular, so that when he came to command a great volunteer force he looked for and strove in vain to attain the perfectness in appointment, organization, drill, and all that routine duty to which he had been accustomed in the old army. Buell was a thoroughly educated soldier, as a strategist and tactician the equal of Grant; but he was too much of an organizer, and this, with a volunteer army to command, really detracted from his merit. Good organizers of large armies seldom succeed in handling them to signal advantage. Buell was too good an organizer. This mere routine duty absorbed too much of his mind; his mind became too much accustomed to dwell upon that specialty, and he gave it too much importance and consideration. So thoroughly had Buell's mind become imbued with the importance of giving to volunteer armies the precise organization of the regulars, that in taking leave of the army which he had formed from "Sherman's mob," he congratulated the soldiers who had saved us Shiloh, first, as more important in his eye than their victories, on their conversion "from raw levies into a powerful army, honored by common consent for its discipline and efficient organization, and for its esprit de corps."

And yet this army thus congratulated was the weakest in organization of any great army that ever existed. It was not imperfect in its details; on the contrary, it was very admirable in that respect, but certainly no army was ever so weak in its corps commanders—McCook, Crittenden, and Gilbert. Circumstances took the organization out of Buell's hand. On the arrival of the army at Louisville in pursuit of Bragg, in September, 1862, General Halleck, then commander-in-chief, concluded that Buell ought to be removed. Halleck was one of those men who, instead of arguing himself from an array of facts into a correct position, would first conclude that affairs were in the condition that he wished or feared, and would then argue himself into the belief that they undoubtedly were so. He would wish his enemy to occupy a certain position, and actually bring himself to the belief that he had done so. Too good a lawyer ever to be a good soldier, he depended for success on tricks in war as he had on quibbles in the law. He concluded, in 1862, that Buell's army was demoralized through want of confidence in its commander, and decided upon his removal. The command was tendered to General George H. Thomas, who not only declined, but promptly urged the retention of General Buell. The other corps commanders then joined in this request, and Buell was retained. He was forced to hastily organize his army in order to continue the pursuit of Bragg, and, consolidating Nelson's army, decided upon three corps, with Nelson, McCook, and Crittenden in command, while General Thomas acted as second under Buell. This last arrangement was very faulty. Thomas was the best man in the army, and this arrangement virtually deprived the army of his services, and made him merely an inspector general. Before the campaign had opened, Nelson, who was a very superior soldier, was assassinated, and his place was supplied—it is really ridiculous to say so, however—by General C. C. Gilbert. Never did a single army possess three such weak corps commanders as Alexander McDowell McCook, C. C. Gilbert, and Thomas L. Crittenden. They were doubtless brave and gallant—every soldier is supposed to be that; they doubtless did their duty to their full ability—every soldier does that, and expects no particular commendation for it; but these men were not capacitated by nature or education for the positions they held. Not one of them had any iron in his nature—neither were deep reasoners or positive characters. They were of that class of men who "intended to do well," but who, without any fixed and unswerving principle to guide them, vacillated and procrastinated until the great motive and the propitious time for action had passed, and left them the doers only of positive evil or negative good, which is just as bad. McCook was an overgrown school-boy, without dignity (Sherman, once alluding to him, called him "a juvenile"); Crittenden was a country lawyer with little legal and no military ability, and Gilbert a martinet, without an idea of discipline or system—the worst kind of a martinet. It would have been a miracle had Buell succeeded. His campaign was a failure when the circumstances of Nelson's death and Halleck's interference made Thomas the "fifth wheel to the coach," and McCook, Crittenden, and Gilbert the immediate directors of the corps forming the Army of the Ohio.

Buell was removed for the failure at Perryville, and actually court-martialed for that crime of McCook and Gilbert. The fact is that it was fought against Buell's express orders; and McCook, the corps commander directing it, boasted during the battle to Captain James S. Stokes (formerly of the regular army, but at that time in command of the Chicago Board of Trade Battery) that he had General Buell's orders not to fight in his pocket, and added that if General Buell supposed that "Aleck McCook was coming in sight of the enemy without fighting him, he was much mistaken in his man." The fact is that Perryville was an unnecessary battle, and was fought only through the jealousy existing between our commanders. The great blessing of the late civil war in this country—I am not going to stop now to say how it was a great blessing, taking, as it eventually did, the form of a crusade against ignorance and slavery—a crusade for knowledge and liberty, in which all Christendom of this enlightened age should have joined with the same fervor that in a darker age it did in the crusade against the Crescent for the Tomb—this great blessing brought with it certain evils, and the basest of these was jealousy. This most degrading passion existed in our armies to a most surprising degree—to such an extent, indeed, that noble actions, instead of being held up as examples worthy of emulation, were often—in nine cases out of every ten—in which the actor survived, made the means of bringing him into ridicule among his immediate associates. Great men were injured in their prospects—brave men have been debarred from their just reward of promotion—ay, and even great campaigns retarded and ruined by the jealous interference of the envious and malicious. Important junctions of armies were prevented, needed re-enforcements held back, and many a brave man sacrificed by the jealousy and envy of commanders who would be great, but who could not suffer to see others great. Jealousy did more actual damage to the cause during the war than did incompetency, and I don't think I can put the fact any more forcibly than by saying that.

Perryville was a battle growing out of jealousy, and lost through jealousy. The first movement made by our troops, and the one that induced the attack of the rebels, who would have been glad to lie still and avoid a conflict which could only interfere with their retreat, was the result of General James S. Jackson's jealousy of General Rousseau, into whose line of battle circumstances had placed one of the former's brigades. Jackson went to McCook and begged to be placed in position in another part of the field, where he could fight his command untrammeled. To gratify this desire, McCook moved him nearly a mile to the front, and, as it happened, directly upon the enemy, who attacked and surprised him. Jackson was killed, and the brigade routed. Despite the reverse, McCook was confident he could win the fight and the glory unaided, and so jealous was he of Gilbert that he would not ask for assistance, although Gilbert lay with his whole corps within a stone's throw, looking with interest on the desperate fight of Rousseau's division, which was all that was left of McCook's corps after Jackson had been routed. And Gilbert was such a martinet that he would not tender aid unasked, and so jealous of McCook that he looked upon his probable defeat with positive pleasure. And although Generals Steedman and Sheridan begged permission to go to Rousseau's aid, Gilbert declined to give them permission, because General McCook had not, and would not ask for assistance. Alas! for the vanity of human calculations! While McCook and Gilbert thus indulged in criminal jealousy of each other, Rousseau, a subordinate of both, but greater than either, stepped in and carried off the laurels by saving that portion of the army which their jealousy had endangered. For this failure of McCook's Buell was removed, and Rosecrans given the command. The latter improved the faulty organization only by returning Thomas to the immediate command of his corps. It was a fortunate thing that he did so, for this corps, under Thomas's immediate direction, at Stone River and Chickamauga, twice saved Rosecrans's army from total annihilation.

Had the military genius of Buell been developed in 1863 instead of 1861, that officer would have won a splendid reputation with the public, and a fine position in the army. In 1861 the people were clamorous for successes, even if bloody; in 1863 they were rapidly growing wiser, and demanded positive advantages for every drop of blood. Buell was one of the early developments sacrificed to the nation's ignorance of war. His policy would have been admired in 1864, but it ruined him in 1862. Then his policy was misrepresented, his character maligned, and even his loyalty impeached, and he was placed on trial before a court, one member of which, General Scheopff, was openly convicted of having declared that he "believed General Buell to be a traitor." There were other members of the same court who held similar opinions, but in the end the court failed to criminate Buell fully. He was acquitted, and ordered to duty. General Buell believed that Andrew Johnson, then Governor of Tennessee, and now President of the United States, was the principal instigator of this persecution of him, and always entertained toward that officer a very bitter and hostile feeling. Governor Johnson believed that Buell's usefulness in Tennessee had departed, was much opposed to his returning to command in that department, and when its command was again tendered Buell, he telegraphed to Washington to protest against the appointment. Before Buell could accept or decline the command, he received a notice that the order was changed, and that he would assume command of the Department of the Gulf, relieving General Banks. General Buell shortly after declined, also, to accept the latter appointment, no explanation being given. I was much interested in the study of Buell's character at the time, and wrote him asking his reasons. His reply to me touched upon several other points of his administration which I had inquired about in a previous letter, and there was but a single paragraph explaining his reasons for resigning. He stated that on receiving notice that he had been transferred from the Tennessee to the Gulf Department, he had made unofficial inquiries at Washington, and had discovered that the change had been ordered by President Lincoln immediately on receipt of the protest of Governor Johnson. On learning this, Buell resigned. Shortly after this he published a letter, giving as his grounds for resigning that the officers to whom he had been ordered to report (Sherman and Canby) were his juniors. I can not but have wished that he had put his motive for resigning on the higher grounds upon which he really acted, however unfounded may have been his prejudice against Governor Johnson; for, though it is doubtful if the latter acted from personal prejudices, certainly General Buell would have been justified in declining to serve a government which removed, transferred, and court-martialed him on the representation of a single person.

Numerous were the misrepresentations made of the supposed quarrel between Buell and Johnson, much to the damage of the former and disgust of the latter. Among the other stories told were two to the effect that Governor Johnson had forced General Buell to fortify Nashville, and secondly to garrison instead of evacuating the city. During the summer of 1862, Governor Johnson became convinced that it would have a good effect upon the rebel citizens of Nashville to fortify it, as evidence of the intention of the army to hold the place. In the absence of General Buell, the governor called upon Major Sidell, who was Buell's adjutant general stationed at Nashville, and, opening the subject, got excited in its elaboration, and delivered a stump speech of half an hour's duration. When he had retired, Sidell came to the conclusion that the governor had intended what he had said for General Buell's ear, and immediately wrote out a synopsis of the speech in a letter to the general, and forwarded it to him. The answer came back, "Consult with Governor Johnson, and commence the works." Major Sidell called upon the governor, and the two rode around the city, and at last decided upon the erection of a stockade fort on what was known as St. Cloud Hill. This was the commencement of that series of works which now so formidably environ Nashville, and which formed such an impregnable barrier to Hood's advance in 1864. The story of the evacuation, as popularly received, is a very gross exaggeration of Governor Johnson's would-be, but mistaken friends. When the army was moving through Nashville in September, 1862, in pursuit of Bragg, it certainly looked very much like an evacuation was about to take place, and many of the Union citizens became nervous over the prospect. Governor Johnson, accompanied by a single aid, waited upon General Buell, and found him in his quarters poring over a map. Governor Johnson at once opened his budget—remarked that the movement of the troops had created the fear on the part of the people that the intention was to abandon Nashville to the enemy, and if such was the purpose, the Union citizens should be informed, in order that they might be enabled to leave with the army. He therefore requested of General Buell to know his intention in that respect. General Buell laid aside his maps, and with that dignity and deliberation which characterized his every word and action, replied,

"Governor, according to all the rules of military art, I ought to evacuate this city, for its possession depends upon the result of the battle which is to be fought with Bragg in Kentucky, whither he is now advancing, and where I am pursuing him. To hold this city deprives me not only of a large force available in a battle, but also places me at the disadvantage of having to watch two important points, Louisville and Nashville, at once. If Bragg is attacked and defeated (and the force necessary to garrison this city can materially contribute to that result), I can reoccupy Nashville at any moment. If Bragg attacks and defeats me, the force left here will be endangered, I shall be powerless to aid it, and it will eventually be sacrificed with the city. But the moral effect of holding Nashville will be very great upon my army and upon the people of the North, though it may prevent my attacking Bragg; and for that reason I have determined to hold it, and shall leave General Thomas in command, with his corps for its garrison."

To this speech Governor Johnson replied, expressing his gratification, and immediately retired. General Thomas was left in command, but on reaching Gallatin, and finding Bragg was still in advance of him, moving north upon Louisville, General Buell sent orders to General Thomas to leave General James S. Negley in command of the garrison, and to join him with the rest of his corps. It was to this movement that Governor Johnson objected, and on his representation General Thomas so far disobeyed Buell's orders as to leave General John M. Palmer and his division, as well as that of General Negley, to hold Nashville.

The speech of General Buell to Governor Johnson embraced his whole plan of the campaign, and he followed it out faithfully and successfully. He followed Bragg closely, but refused to fight him, covered Nashville and protected Louisville, and eventually forced Bragg to retreat from the state by way of the mountains of East Tennessee. Had he urged battle and been defeated, or even disabled, General Negley would have been forced to retreat, harassed at every step, to the Ohio River, at Paducah. As it was, Bragg accomplished nothing, and had Buell remained in command he would never have again advanced north of Chattanooga. Buell having driven Bragg from Kentucky, proposed to go by forced marches to Murfreesborough, Tennessee, drive Breckinridge from that point, and reoccupy the rich country of Middle Tennessee. But he was very unwisely superseded by Rosecrans, who delayed until Bragg had moved north to Murfreesborough, and had actually advanced to take Nashville. This delay necessitated the fighting of the battle of Stone River, and cost us ten thousand men.