To
Craig, Kurt, Jon, and Karla
from
your brother
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
LIST OF MAPS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Battle of Atlanta Lithograph
INTRODUCTION “The Dissatisfaction with Mr. Lincoln Grows to Abhorrence”
1. Closing the Vise
2. Prelude
3. The Plan
4. Behind the Lines
5. Repulse
6. Sacrifice
7. Two-Sided Fight
8. Bloody Diversion
9. A Human Hurricane on Horseback
10. Desperation
11. Impact
APPENDIX Order of Battle
NOTES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX
Also By Gary Ecelbarger
Copyright
LIST OF MAPS
1 Leggett and Smith vs. Wheeler and Cleburne
2 General Hood’s Battle Plan
3 Atlanta Battlefield
4 Opening of Battle: Bate vs. Sweeny
5 Walker vs. Sweeny and Fuller
6 Cleburne vs. Giles Smith
7 Maney vs. Giles Smith
8 Smith’s Brigade Penetrates Gap
9 Cleburne Attacks Bald Hill
10 Diversionary Assault by Cheatham’s Corps
11 Four Confederate Brigades Breach the XV Corps Line
12 Logan Rallies to Restore Line
13 Maney & Cleburne Assault Bald Hill
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Battle of Atlanta Lithograph
Major General William T. Sherman, U.S.A.
Car Shed, in Downtown Atlanta, 1864
Major General James B. McPherson, U.S.A.
General John Bell Hood, C.S.A.
Brigadier General Mortimer D. Leggett, U.S.A.
Lieutenant General William J. Hardee, C.S.A.
Major General Grenville M. Dodge, U.S.A.
Major General William B. Bate, C.S.A.
Major General Joseph Wheeler, C.S.A.
Place where General McPherson fell
Major General Patrick R. Cleburne, C.S.A.
Brigadier General Manning F. Force, U.S.A.
Confederate earthworks at the Georgia Railroad
Major General John A. Logan, U.S.A.
Colonel Charles C. Walcutt, U.S.A.
Major General Frank Blair and his XVII Corps staff, U.S.A.
The Atlanta Cyclorama: The 1886 Memorial of the Battle of Atlanta
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This work is the product of several years of research and could not have been achieved without the assistance of those at the local, state, and national historical depositories and without the aid of historians and biographers whose interests dovetailed with mine. Their numbers run into the scores; for example, each historical society and archive listed in the bibliography employed as many as five who directly assisted me. They proved as knowledgeable as they were dedicated, and I found them indispensable to producing this book. The same holds for the authors of all the books cited. Their works held pearls necessary to tell my story, many of which I would never have found on my own. Collectively, I salute them and thank them for their time and effort spent on me.
Specifically, I wish to highlight a few talented people who made this work possible. No book about a Civil War battle or campaign can convey the author’s interpretation without a decent set of troop-movement maps to guide the reader through the author’s narrative. George Skoch is the cartographer of this book and his outstanding maps are the first ones ever published to interpret the Battle of Atlanta in more than one or two phases. His maps capture the battle in stages ranging from thirty to ninety minutes and it was a genuine thrill to see each of them for the first time. I thank Mr. Skoch for his talent, his patience, and his professionalism.
Dr. Stewart Bennett of Blue Mountain College proved indispensable to this work. His Ph.D. thesis interpreted the Battle of Atlanta, and he generously provided primary source material that filled in the gaps of my own research. More than that, Stewart became a favorite sounding board to field my questions and assess my interpretations while sharing his own take on the battle in whole and in parts. His knowledge, generosity, and warm friendship will never be forgotten. I also thank historian Steven E. Woodworth—not only for his expertise on the Army of the Tennessee, but also for connecting me with Dr. Bennett.
Keith Bohannan is a valuable Civil War historian and the expert of all things Georgia. I thank him for all the times he directed me to source material I had not previously considered and for sending me some archival gems from his own research. I also thank historian Scott Patchan for sharing his expertise on the Civil War in 1864 and for his skills in research and battlefield interpretation. All of my trips to Atlanta have been with Scott as well as other research trips to several other states where we collected source material specific to the battle and campaign for Atlanta. Nearly twenty years of friendship with Scott have proven invaluable to my understanding of this pivotal period of America’s past. Rod Gainer, another historian and yearslong friend, critiqued some of my manuscript chapters for which I am grateful.
I thank Ed Knappman (New England Publishing Associates) for representing this work and finding it a great home. I am also grateful for those who produced this book at Thomas Dunne Books, particularly Rob Kirkpatrick for acquiring the project and overseeing its publication, Bob Berkel for line editing the manuscript, and to Margaret Smith for guiding it through all the necessary steps to produce the final product.
I close with acknowledging my wife, Carolyn, for her numerous sacrifices made to afford me the countless hours necessary to research and write this history. Her selflessness in this regard is but one reason why she always has and always will own my appreciation, my respect, and my love.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Most historians and Civil War buffs concur that the war was won for the Union and lost for the Confederacy in the West. The meaning here generally refers to a military theater bordered by the Appalachians in the east and the Mississippi River in the west. In the spring and summer of 1864 the theater boundary expanded southeastward as the opposing armies that had spent the two previous years battling in Kentucky, Mississippi, and Tennessee waged war within 250 miles of the beaches lining the Atlantic coast. This book isolates one battle of the summer of 1864 that had a greater impact on that outcome than previously recognized.
The fact that two Western armies fought in the East symbolizes the difficulties a historian must overcome to present this history as clearly as possible. Understanding the Battle of Atlanta presents challenges to even the most voracious readers of military history. The aggravating similarity in the names of the opposing armies—the Army of Tennessee versus the Army of the Tennessee—is guaranteed to confuse readers and sometimes even writers. Add to this the facts that there are several brigade and division commanders surnamed “Smith,” that opposing forces clashed against each other from opposite directions in consecutive days, and that aside from “Sherman,” “Hood,” and perhaps “Cleburne” most of the personalities involved in the battle are unknown to those with a general interest in the Civil War as well as to those well versed in Eastern campaign battles. There are hundreds of Civil War aficionados who can rattle off the names of Sickles, Hancock, Ewell, and Longstreet as the surnames of corps commanders at Gettysburg, but will be reduced to scratching their heads when asked to name just one corps commander active in the Atlanta campaign, let alone any of the six Un
ion and Confederate corps commanders at the Battle of Atlanta. Nor would it be surprising to see the Eastern theater buffs respond with a vacuous stare when asked to name the general in charge of the victorious army at the close of the Battle of Atlanta.
Aside from the lack of recognition of the participants opposing each other at Atlanta on July 22, 1864, challenges to interpretation exist that are not unique to this battle or theater for that matter. Oftentimes Confederate brigades, divisions, and corps are identified by a proper name taken from an earlier war commander no longer in charge of the unit. For example, Cheatham’s Division (note the capitalization of the unit) fought in the Battle of Atlanta commanded by Brigadier General George E. Maney. Major General Benjamin Franklin Cheatham—for whom the division was named—fought in the battle as a corps commander, not in charge of the corps for which his old division served, but, instead, at the helm of Hood’s Corps that had a vacancy when its namesake commander, General John Bell Hood, ascended to command the entire Army of Tennessee in this battle. One can imagine the tedium and confusion reading the following phrases that would pepper the battle narrative, “General Cheatham, in charge of Hood’s Corps,” and “Cheatham’s Division, under General Maney.” Furthermore, referring to these two specific commands by their capitalized names renders ambiguous the phrase “Cheatham’s command” or even “Hood’s men.” Other named units, such as Granbury’s Brigade and Hindman’s Division, fought in the Battle of Atlanta without their namesake commanders; Generals Granbury and Hindman were nursing wounds that kept them from this battle. To constantly refer to these commands by their absent commanders will guarantee confusion for both writer and reader.
This book was written with the deliberate attempt to avoid the aforementioned pitfalls in comprehension. To prevent confusion between the nearly identical names of the opposing armies, the Confederate Army of Tennessee is more frequently called “Hood’s army” while the Union Army of the Tennessee retains its name throughout the narrative to distinguish it from the other two Union armies surrounding Atlanta. Additionally, all of the Union corps—and only the Union corps—are identified by a Roman numeral (e.g., XV Corps). All Union and Confederate regiments are designated by their number and state (e.g., 5th Arkansas, 11th Iowa); whenever the terms “Artillery,” “Cavalry,” or “Infantry” do not immediately follow the numeric and state designations, it can be assumed that the unit referred to is infantry.
For other bodies of troops, Union and Confederate brigades and divisions as well as Confederate corps, identification in the narrative will usually be in reference to its commander on the Atlanta battlefield and not by its numeric designation or—in the case of Confederate units—by a name of a commander no longer in charge of the body of troops. Therefore, the four Tennessee brigades commanded by General Cheatham from 1862 until four days before the battle are not referred to as Cheatham’s Division, but instead are called Maney’s division after the general in charge of them on July 22, 1864. Not only does this method eliminate the confusion of misidentifying any of the divisions Cheatham led as a corps commander, for other units it prevents the introduction of superfluous commanders who had nothing to do with the Battle of Atlanta. So, Clayton’s division replaces Hindman’s Division, and James A. Smith’s brigade replaces Granbury’s Brigade. For consistency’s sake, nearly every brigade, division, and corps identified by its commander is depicted in lower case letters. (The exceptions are the Orphan Brigade, a prominent Kentucky force, and the Florida Brigade, which are identified by capitalization.) For the sake of consistency, lower-case designations also apply to brigades, divisions, and corps still led by the same commander for which they earned a proper name. Thus, Cleburne’s division replaces Cleburne’s Division and Lowrey’s brigade is used instead of Lowrey’s Brigade. A complete Order of Battle for the Battle of Atlanta is listed in the Appendix; in it can be found the original names of these units for the Confederate side and the numeric designation of divisions and brigades on the Union side.
It seems impossible to keep up with the Smiths during the battle of Atlanta. No fewer than six generals and colonels with that ubiquitous surname led troops during this bloody day of battle—four Confederates and two Union. Every time one of these commanders appears and reappears in the story he will be identified by his full name or at least the initials of his first and middle name to make it absolutely clear to the reader which Smith is described. Fortunately, no Smith was directly opposed by a Smith during the battle. Equally as fortunate, the chronological and geographical flow of the battle allows for separate chapters to isolate the battle to smaller and sometimes uniform bodies of troops. For example, chapters 4 and 5 describe two Confederate divisions against troops from one Union corps. Chapter 7 isolates two other Confederate divisions against three new Union divisions, and chapter 8 introduces an entirely new Confederate corps attacking Union troops who had not been mentioned in earlier chapters because they are active here for the first time. This “natural” isolation of portions of two large armies brings the reader into chapters describing action varying in length between thirty to ninety minutes where no more than one-third of the opposing armies are fighting each other.
It is the intention and hope of this author that these deliberate decisions provide the reader with a more appreciative and less frustrating battle “experience” than one would normally expect given all of these impediments to comprehension. If the reader still finds himself enveloped by the fog of war with the multitude of personalities and military units associated with the Battle of Atlanta, the troop movement maps and the Order of Battle should serve as a beacon to help guide him through the action of July 22, 1864.
INTRODUCTION
“THE DISSATISFACTION WITH MR. LINCOLN
GROWS TO ABHORRENCE”
July was a terrible month for Abraham Lincoln, certainly his worst month thus far in 1864 and one of the most troublesome periods of his entire presidency. It started out well enough. After gratefully accepting the resignation of his thorny secretary of the treasury, Salmon P. Chase, Lincoln swiftly and smoothly sent in the nomination of Senator William B. Fessenden to the U.S. Senate as Chase’s replacement (it was confirmed the same day). As satisfied as he was to be rid of the trouble-making Chase, the resignation underscored the brewing problems in Lincoln’s cabinet. Three of the initial seven members of the Lincoln cabinet did not successfully complete the first term of his presidency with him and two more—Attorney General Edward Bates and Postmaster General Montgomery Blair—were growing so cantankerous and dissatisfied with the administration that their service would also end before the year did (Blair was gone by September; Bates would resign in November).
The month turned sour beginning in the second week. The Civil War was brought to Lincoln’s doorstep when Confederate General Jubal Early carried his Shenandoah Valley campaign to the northern outskirts of Washington, D.C. The threatening Confederate tide ebbed on July 12 with the timely arrival of Major General Horatio G. Wright’s VI Corps of the Army of the Potomac, who were Union troops detached from their Petersburg, Virginia, campaign. General Early wisely turned tail and hustled back to the west side of the Blue Ridge Mountains, chased by Wright’s corps that had come to Washington to rid the area of the menace. According to John Hay, one of the President’s personal secretaries, Lincoln was never concerned for the safety of Washington during the peak of Early’s offensive, seeing that as an opportunity to severely damage his army. Two days after the threat receded Lincoln sarcastically reported to Hay, “Wright telegraphs that he thinks the enemy are all across the Potomac but that he has halted & sent out an infantry reconnaissance, for fear he might come across the rebels & catch some of them.” Hay entered into his diary that night, “The Chief is evidently disgusted.”1
Indeed he was and America was disgusted with him. Obviously, the Confederate States of America had no love for the president, but the North—those states that elected Lincoln with a clear majority of the Electoral College in 1860 (although
he only received 39 percent of the popular vote nationwide)—had grown more and more disillusioned with his job performance. They displayed that anger first in the off-year election of 1862, stripping Lincoln of twenty-two Republican seats in the U.S. House of Representatives. A promising 1863 had given way to an 1864 that was growing more alarming and frustrating for the North with each passing day. Indeed, June and July of 1864 had inaugurated the summer of America’s discontent.
“The dissatisfaction with Mr. Lincoln grows to abhorrence,” vented a native Kentuckian since removed to Cincinnati. His opinion was somewhat tainted as he had been a friend of Chase, but his connections to his birth state explained much of his observation. Lincoln suspended the writ of habeas corpus in Kentucky and established martial law throughout that Border State. Anti-Lincoln fervor was displayed in newspaper editorials, private letters, and public displays across the states of the Union. It came from prominent men and ordinary citizens, from people who had always opposed Lincoln to those who had supported him in years—and months—past. All shared their disapproval of the way the president was handling his duties as commander in chief.2
Collapsing support for the president had many contributions to it, none bearing more negative influence than the current state of the Civil War. So much promise in March of 1864 had turned to anger, frustration, and despair four months later. On March 6, 1864 Ulysses S. Grant was commissioned as a lieutenant general, a rank last bestowed upon George Washington, and made general in chief of all the Union armies in the field. Grant moved across the Alleghenies, leaving the Western theater, where he had won all of his laurels, behind to work directly with the Army of the Potomac, officially still commanded by Major General George Meade. Grant submitted a plan for simultaneous movements on four fronts. The objective was to apply overwhelming pressure upon the Confederacy and prevent shifting of troops from one harried war front to another. Grant would move with Meade’s army to take on Robert E. Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia in central Virginia; Grant’s former department, the Military Division of the Mississippi, would carry forward where it left off in Chattanooga the past autumn and battle General Joseph Eggleston Johnston’s army with an objective to destroy the army while penetrating as deep into Georgia as possible. A third front placed an army on the Yorktown Peninsula, the scene of a major Union campaign failure in 1862, to attempt to take Richmond while guiding up the James River. The fourth front was another war-long headache for the Union: the Shenandoah Valley. There a Union force would drive southward to strike and destroy the rail lines at Staunton, Virginia, and the hub at Lynchburg, Virginia.
The Day Dixie Died: The Battle of Atlanta Page 1