John Bell Hood: The Rise, Fall, and Resurrection of a Confederate General

by Hood, Stephen

  Throughout the Staff Ride program, attendees were subjected to stories about an enraged and incompetent Hood taking out his frustrations on his army. These stories were further spiced with allegations of Hood’s desire to impress Southern belle Buck Preston, Hood’s reluctant fiancée. Nearly every Confederate military action conducted by the Army of Tennessee at Spring Hill, Franklin, and Nashville was said to have been influenced somehow by Hood’s anger, his incompetence, or by his desire to impress his girlfriend. To be fair, not all of the faculty on the tour engaged in this baseless hyperbole, but the intense anti-Hood theme was present at most of the visited sites and facilities.

  As the saying goes, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.” Conversely, if something sounds too bad to be true, it often isn’t. My fellow attendees and I frequently spoke among ourselves about the conflicting logic with regard to John Bell Hood. On one hand he was portrayed as naïve, lacking in intellect, and socially unrefined. On the other hand, he is said to have successfully manipulated and bamboozled the Confederate president, his cabinet, and the Confederate war department into consistently attaining higher commands. During the Tennessee Campaign, Hood—who the Staff Ride faculty frequently painted as being devoid of any tactical or strategic ability— nonetheless conceived and executed what the faculty universally described as a “brilliant flank movement” at Spring Hill that nearly trapped and destroyed Schofield’s army. Even at Franklin, where the staff claimed an incoherent Hood launched a hopeless suicidal attack, we attendees were told that his assault broke Schofield’s main lines and that only the presence of a regiment under Col. Emerson Opdycke—which was in its position because of Opdycke’s insubordination—saved the Union army from destruction. So was John Bell Hood smart and capable or was he dumb and vindictive? Was the Tennessee Campaign a bold strategic gambit or a fool’s errand? Was the attack at Franklin a decisive assault that came close to destroying Schofield’s Army of Ohio, or was it the insane act of a deranged, lovelorn, drug-crazed lunatic bent on punishing his subordinates for their failure at Spring Hill the previous evening?

  Back in 2000 I had not yet thoroughly studied my famous cousin. I had read biographies by Richard O’Connor and John Dyer, as well as Hay’s Hood’s Tennessee Campaign, but that was about it. When I returned from the tour I immediately read Sword’s book. Hood’s face dominates the cover. The titles of the chapters foretold the author’s premise: “A Cupid on Crutches,” “The President’s Watchdog,” “Too Much Lion, Not Enough Fox,” “Courage Versus Common Sense,” and “One Whose Temper Is Less Fortunately Governed.” On virtually every page where Hood is mentioned, the author’s assertions and characterizations were inconsistent with those written by Hay, O’Connor, and Dyer. Many of his conclusions seemed illogical to me. Thus began my odyssey.

  And here, I hope, it ends.

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not have happened without the assistance of many people, all of whom either directly assisted me with research or, perhaps more importantly, encouraged me and provided motivation when mine was waning.

  I wish to thank my distant cousin, close friend, and confidant Oliver C. “OC” Hood of Franklin, North Carolina. The earliest of my fellow crusaders, nobody provided me more assistance or encouragement over a longer period of time than OC, who in many ways could be considered a co-author of this book.

  I am also grateful to David Fraley, former interim executive director of the Carter House in Franklin, Tennessee, one of God’s truly gentle people. David patiently endured my worst behavior and set an example of dignity and compassion that I will always try to emulate. Longtime Carter House executive director Thomas Cartwright also patiently indulged my annoying complaints, befriended me when I least deserved it, and helped guide me to valuable research materials. I cannot express sufficient gratitude to Eric Jacobson, current chief operations officer and historian of the Battle of Franklin Trust. Eric is the author of For Cause & for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill & the Battle of Franklin, the latest most balanced and objective book on the Spring Hill Affair and Franklin. Not only did he share primary source material with me, but my respect for him is immeasurable, as he publicly challenged many of the inaccurate and incomplete charges against John Bell Hood in the very eye of the storm: Franklin, Tennessee. I also wish to thank novelist Robert Hicks of Franklin, not only for his encouragement, but for his steadfast dedication to recovering and preserving the hallowed Franklin battlefield.

  Thanks as well to Greg Wade, president of the Franklin Civil War Round Table for his open-mindedness and encouragement. My friend Daniel Mallock of Nashville also joined me in battle and supported my efforts and the encouragement of my “second mom” Betty Callis of Hendersonville, Tennessee, was always a breath of much-needed fresh air.

  The first suggestion that I take up the cause of General Hood came from Jerry and Vicki Spier of Tucson, Arizona, who have supported and encouraged me for more than ten years. Infinite inspiration and endorsement for my efforts was provided by Ms. Rose Cox of Ohio, the great-granddaughter of General John Adams (who was killed at Franklin), whom Rose felt would undoubtedly have been disappointed by the historical treatment his commanding general has thus far received.

  I must also thank Carlo DiVincenti of Metairie, Louisiana, General Hood’s “Guardian Angel,” and Dale “Fish” Fishel of Washington state, whose great-grandfather Warren Fishel fought at Franklin as a member of the immortal 125th Ohio Infantry (“Opdycke’s Tigers”). My respect and appreciation for Fish’s assistance and moral support cannot be overstated. Also standing beside me during the entire project were Bob Hufford of Hopewell, Virginia, Thomas Panter of Atlanta, Georgia, Ruth Hood Maddix of New Boston, Ohio, Steve Cagle of Hueytown, Alabama, and Dan Paterson of Centreville, Virginia, great-grandson of General James Longstreet.

  Thanks as well to Herb Sayas of New Orleans, Jenseen Petersen of Honesdale, Pennsylvania, and Kentucky belle Elizabeth Whipkey for their research assistance, as well as Jack Dickinson, bibliographer of the Rosanna Blake Confederate Collection at the Marshall University library in Huntington, West Virginia. Acclaimed author Winston Groom of Point Clear, Alabama, patiently mentored me on matters of writing and publishing and introduced me to outstanding copyeditor Don Kennison.

  Another eminently patient mentor was the managing director of Savas Beatie, Theodore P. Savas, who was expertly assisted by marketing director Sarah Keeney and copy editor Alexandra Maria Savas. Another mentor and encourager extraordinaire is the incomparable Dr. Stephen Davis of Atlanta, perhaps my most enthusiastic supporter.

  I must also thank Dr. Keith Bohannon of the University of West Georgia for patiently and professionally indulging me and guiding me to important primary sources. My friend Dr. Brandon H. Beck, emeritus professor of history at Shenandoah University, has been a steadfast supporter and has assisted me with every aspect of the book. Academia is truly blessed to have these two outstanding and dedicated scholars among their ranks.

  Members of General Hood’s family have provided invaluable assistance in the extensive research required for this book. Special thanks to Susan Graves Tebbs of Lexington, Kentucky, Mary Hood Pearlman of Asheville, North Carolina, Holly Hennen Hood of New York City, and Jim Bagg of Galveston, Texas, a professional editor who generously shared his substantial talents by assisting me with final editing of the manuscript. Thanks as well to William and Joan Thomas for their generosity, assistance, and hospitality.

  My late friend Thomas Brown of Spreckels, California, great-grand nephew of General George Thomas, the “Rock of Chickamauga,” provided valuable assistance and inspiration far beyond words, demonstrating the very essence of scholastic integrity as well as personal courage, strength, and dedication. I am fortunate that his Foreword graces my book.

  This book might never have been completed without the kind assistance of my wife of 35 years, Martha, who assisted me with photocopying, fact-checking, proofreading, and countless hours entertaining our Engl
ish Bulldog, “Rebel” while I worked on the book.

  Although the aforementioned people provided invaluable moral support and material assistance, I am solely responsible for the entire content— including the inevitable errors.

  My study is critical of the historiography of many historians and other authors, living and dead. All assumptions, conclusions, and opinions expressed herein are mine and mine alone.

  I must offer both thanks and apologies to Len Riedel, founder and executive director of the Blue Gray Education Society of Chatham, Virginia, whose advice—had I followed it explicitly—would doubtless have resulted in a book that would have served Civil War scholarship more completely. Being fully immersed in Civil War history, Len is deeply concerned with the deterioration of the historiography of Civil War scholarship in recent decades. He urged me to write a book that would communicate the need for disciplined and honest historiography as a basis for scholarly work, using John Bell Hood as a case study. As Len astutely observes, during the war Hood was among the senior Confederate military commanders forced to negotiate the convoluted web of petty personality conflicts and political alliances between and among disparate Richmond government officials; after the war, he became one of the pawns in the often ruthless work of prominent Southerners who wished to define the morality of the failed revolution, and to explain the defeat. A careful study of John Bell Hood from 1861 until now strongly suggests that his modern reputation is an extension of scapegoating that began in 1865—and an illustration of the power and influence of the Lost Cause architects. Unfortunately, I have neither the ability nor the energy to perform the necessary research for such a monumental project, which I leave to a more able and motivated future scholar.

  Several chapters of this book include sections that relied heavily on articles and essays written by others. I wish to make a special acknowledgment and further thank the following gentlemen for their works, which in varying degrees provided not only factual material, but a template for my chapters and sections on specific subjects. Although they are appropriately cited in my endnotes, their contributions make them, in my mind, contributors rather than mere sources.

  John Goddard, M.D., of Shreveport, Louisiana, wrote an article titled “Baptism of Fire” on the Battle of Eltham’s Landing for the John Bell Hood Historical Society newsletter, as did Jim Bagg of Galveston, Texas, who wrote “Hood’s Dilemma,” on the subject of Hood’s decision to leave the U.S. army for Confederate service. Oliver C. Hood of Franklin, North Carolina, published an article called “Hood’s Epic,” on Lieutenant John Bell Hood’s 1857 battle with Comanches on the Texas frontier, which was a valuable resource. Stephen Davis’s renowned forensic studies of the myth of Hood’s laudanum use, published as an article in the October 1998 issue of Blue and Gray magazine (“John Bell Hood’s ‘Addictions’ in Civil War Literature”) and in essay form in Confederate Generals in the Western Theater, vol. III, Essays on America’s Civil War (University of Tennessee Press, 2011) were important resources and served as a template for my section on Hood and laudanum. Mr. Timothy F. Weiss of Roswell, Georgia, whose essay on the Cassville controversy, published in the winter 2007 issue of the Georgia Historical Quarterly, was a guide to my section on that important event. Noel Carpenter’s excellent micro-history, A Slight Demonstration: Decatur, October 1864, A Clumsy Beginning of General John Bell Hood’s Tennessee Campaign, published posthumously in 2007 by his daughter Ms. Carol Powell of Austin, Texas, was a treasure trove of information on Hood’s post-Atlanta campaign. These talented and generous writers have my greatest respect and gratitude.

  Author’s Note

  I quote many authors in an effort to be scrupulously fair and for the purpose of objective scholarly criticism. I have endeavored to use only enough material from their books and/or articles for readers to make their own unbiased judgment. I encourage readers to purchase and read these books and articles, should they desire to do so, and in the end reach their own conclusions on this debate about historical accuracy.

  Because my book is not chronologically presented, I have decided to introduce both Union and Confederate general officers as simply “General.” Otherwise, the repeated use of Brig. Gen., Maj. Gen., etc., sometimes for the same officer, would not only slow the pace of the text but perhaps confuse the reader.

  General John Bell Hood

  Alfred Waud, Library of Congress

  1 Genealogical files of the John Bell Hood Historical Society, in possession of certified genealogist Ms. Gail Lamer of Savannah, Georgia.

  2 John R. Lundberg, The Finishing Stroke: Texans in the 1864 Tennessee Campaign (Abilene, TX: McWhiney Foundation Press, 2002).

  3 Christopher Morley, Modern Essays (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1921), 278.

  4 Brian Craig Miller, John Bell Hood and the Fight for Civil War Memory (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 2010); Thomas Brown, Master’s Thesis, John Bell Hood: Extracting Truth from History, in the possession of the author.

  5 Thomas R. Hay, Hood’s Tennessee Campaign (Dayton, OH: Morningside Bookshop Press, 1976), 42.

  6 Wiley Sword, Embrace an Angry Wind: The Confederacy’s Last Hurrah: Spring Hill, Franklin, and Nashville (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 263. This same title was published in paperback the following year as The Confederacy’s Last Hurrah: Spring Hill, Franklin, and Nashville (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1993); Ben Stein, “Cellphones in Flight? This Means War!” New York Times online, March 26, 2006; Steven Woodworth, Civil War Generals in Defeat (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1999), 3.

  7 The Battle of Franklin: Five Hours in the Valley of Death, Wide Awake Films, Kansas City, MO, 2005.

  8 American Historical Association, 400 A Street SE, Washington DC, 2006.

  9 Scott Bowden and Bill Ward, Last Chance for Victory: Robert E. Lee and the Gettysburg Campaign (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2001), 230.

  10 Thomas Buell, The Warrior Generals: Combat Leadership in the Civil War (New York: Crown Publishing, 1997), xxviii.

  11 Paul Wasserman and Don Hausrath, Weasel Words: The Dictionary of American Doublespeak (Herndon, VA: Capital Books, 2006).

  12 Sword, The Confederacy’s Last Hurrah, 435. Whoever authored the 1865 newspaper article apparently wanted to remain anonymous, but signed it “GWS.” If the well-known General Gustavus W. Smith, commander of the Georgia militia, wrote the article for a Georgia newspaper and wanted to remain anonymous, however, would he have used his own initials?

  13 Gary Ecelbarger, The Day Dixie Died: The Battle of Atlanta (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2010), 23. Ecelbarger cites Thomas P. Lowry, The Story Soldiers Wouldn’t Tell: Sex in the Civil War (Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1994), 157. Lowry, the author of several books, called into question his own credibility when he admitted in 2011 to deliberately altering the date on a Lincoln pardon in the National Archives. He has been permanently banned from all of its facilities and research rooms.

  14 McMurry, John Bell Hood, ix.

  Chapter 1

  “History to be above evasion must stand on documents, not on opinion.”

  — Lord Acton

  John Bell Hood: The Son and the Soldier

  Regardless of the subject, it is difficult to find unanimity of opinion among Civil War historians. But when considering the enigmatic career of Confederate General John Bell Hood, both pro-and anti-Hood historians would probably agree that the life and career of the native Kentuckian was extraordinary.

  Hood’s meteoric rise and precipitous fall paralleled that of the Confederacy. His remarkable successes at the head of the Texas brigade in Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia in 1862 made him a star of Richmond society, a genuine public hero, and a favorite of the government and high command. Arguably, Hood and the Confederacy reached their apex in 1863 just before Lee’s invading army was defeated at Gettysburg, where Hood suffered his first serious wound while leading a division of infantry in an assault against General Dan Sickles’s III Corps on the afternoon of July 2.r />
  Although he is associated with Texas troops, Hood was not a native Texan. The dashing charismatic leader was born in Owingsville, Bath County, Kentucky, on June 29, 1831, and reared in the rural Montgomery County community of Reid Village near Mount Sterling. The son of a scholarly rural doctor, John was heavily influenced by his grandfathers—one a crusty veteran of the French and Indian War and the other a Revolutionary War veteran. Hood’s grandfathers were his primary male influences during the early 1830s while his father, John W. Hood, was absent on frequent trips to Pennsylvania studying medicine at the Philadelphia Medical Institute under a prominent physician believed to have been John Bell Hood’s namesake, Dr. John Bell.1

  Philadelphia’s Dr. Bell, a native of Ireland, had studied medicine in Europe and in 1821 had attended the commencement ceremonies at Transylvania College in Lexington, Kentucky, near the Winchester, Kentucky, home of the aspiring young doctor John Hood. Since John Hood’s two older brothers were also physicians, it is likely that the future doctor John W. Hood met Dr. John Bell in Kentucky in 1821.2