by Sam Watkins
* * *
1. The battle plan was good. General Johnston later said he was planning just such an assault prior to being relieved. The intent was to attack Union General Thomas's Army of the Cumberland as its soldiers broke ranks to cross Peachtree Creek. If launched as planned at 1:00 p.m., the attack may have succeeded. However, confusion about Hood's orders—or direct disobedience to them—delayed the assault until 4:00 p.m. By then the federals had already crossed the creek and were entrenched on the south side. The battle occurred July 20, 1864, only three days after Hood assumed command on July 17.
2. Sam's memory is incorrect. His brigade commander, General George Maney, had taken over Cheatham's division while Cheatham was temporarily commanding Hood's corps since Hood had only days earlier been promoted to lead the entire army. Unfortunately, Maney's performance at the battle of Peachtree Creek was subpar. His division was supposed to be the center of attack, but it got tangled up in trees and undergrowth. Consequently, it never really pressed hard enough to have much effect. Evidently this was good for Sam because it resulted in minimal casualties for his division. Apparently it also explains why Sam has little to say about the battle.
3. With fists and heels.
4. As narrated earlier in his memoir, Sam claims he witnessed this very scene as the old married couple described it.
5. Forrest's cavalry was sent to Mississippi and Wheeler's to North Carolina and East Tennessee. In Sam's metaphor, Hood detached both his “arms”; cavalry was considered an army's “arms,” with infantry corresponding to the “feet” and its artillery the “body.” Hood had been severely wounded twice before taking command of the Army of Tennessee. He lost a leg at Chickamauga, and at Gettysburg he suffered a wound that left his left arm useless.
6. Sam is making the point that Civil War cavalry was often used as a reconnaissance tool to locate the enemy and determine the opponent's strength at various positions. Since Forrest and Wheeler were off raiding Sherman's supply lines, there was not much cavalry available around Atlanta. However, Sam's chronology is once again off. Wheeler did participate in the battle of Atlanta on July 22, 1864, which is the next incident in Sam's narrative.
7. The battle of Peachtree Creek was on the northwest side of Atlanta on July 20. The fight that became known as the battle of Atlanta—although modern historians often name it the battle of Bald Hill—was on the east side, on July 22.
Hood required that Hardee's corps march fifteen miles overnight from the Peachtree Creek battlefield to attack Union General McPherson's Army of the Tennessee on the east side of Atlanta. McPherson's army was composed of three federal corps: the 15th, 16th, and 17th. Hardee was to attack the south end of McPherson's army, composed of the 16th and 17th Corps.
Hardee's corps had four divisions led by generals: Bate, Walker, Cleburne, and Maney. Sam was in Maney's division.
General Cheatham's corps was to make a frontal assault on McPherson's 17th Corps at the north end of the Yankee position after Hardee's attack had “rolled-up” the southern flank. Cheatham was only temporarily in charge of the corps, which only days earlier had been Hood's. The movement asked too much from a weary and already reduced Confederate army. Hardee's attack did not drive McPherson's southern flank far enough north to create the panic and confusion that might otherwise make a frontal assault by Cheatham successful. Therefore, Cheatham's soldiers met stiff resistance, and the Rebels lost the battle of Atlanta.
8. Sam is apparently making a prejudicial reference to Colonel Hugo Wangelin, who was a native of Prussia. However, the German only commanded a brigade, whereas McPherson commanded an entire corps. Wangelin's brigade had many German-Americans in its ranks from St. Louis. Nevertheless, it was positioned near the spot where McPherson was killed.
9. Sam's memory is faulty. General John C. Brown was given command of Thomas Hindman's division on July 4, owing to an injury to Hindman. As at Peachtree Creek two days earlier, General Maney was in charge of Sam's division, which was previously Cheatham's before the latter temporarily took over Hood's corps.
10. In February 1864, the Confederacy extended the age limits on conscription to fifty at the top and seventeen at the lower end.
11. This attack occurred about 3:00 p.m. and was directed almost due east. Cleburne and the rest of Hardee's corps had started their assault from the south at 12:45 p.m. Although they had driven the federal defenders north, they did not drive them far enough to enable Cheatham's corps to be successful.
12. According to Greek mythology, Acheron was a river in the underworld.
13. While Maney performed well at Bald Hill, he was tepid at Peachtree Creek and later at Jonesboro. Maney's conduct probably explains why Sam has a lot more to say about this battle as compared to the battle of Peachtree Creek.
14. This is the second time Sam is wounded.
15. Dr. Edward Jarvis was a leading proponent of sanitary Civil War hospitals in the North. His influence evidently extended south as well. Presumably he also had dietary recommendations that included a “Jarvis breakfast.”
16. There had not yet been a Union invasion of central Alabama. However, undoubtedly many families from the area had sons and fathers in the Confederate armies.
17. This is a reference a 1728 opera, The Beggar's Opera, with lyrics by John Gay.
18. Adam Forepaugh was a circus owner and competitor to P. T. Barnum. He attributed the famous quote, “A sucker is born every minute,” to Barnum in a newspaper interview.
19. Sam is ridiculing the Georgia state militia because it is composed of men who had thus far avoided military service. However, the militia actually served with credit at the battle of Atlanta (Bald Hill).
20. Governor Joseph Brown of Georgia was a thorn in the side of President Davis because Brown resisted granting authority to the central government in Richmond.
21. Presumably at this point in the war, the Georgia militia included large numbers of old men and boys.
22. The real purpose of Union General George Stoneman's cavalry raid was to cut the railroad supply lines south of Atlanta. He also hoped to head south and liberate the prisoners at Andersonville. Stoneman was a failed cavalry commander in the more prestigious Army of the Potomac that fought Robert E. Lee in Virginia. After a poor performance at the battle of Chancellorsville, Stoneman was given a desk job in Washington. He requested another field command, and his old friend General John Schofield, who was subordinate to Sherman, arranged for Stoneman to be given a cavalry command in Sherman's army. Stoneman later became governor of California.
23. Stoneman could not capture Macon because he was unable to defeat the garrison of Georgia militia. In reality, Stoneman surrendered part of his force to Confederate cavalry under General Alfred Iverson, who tricked Stoneman into believing he was outnumbered, although he wasn't.
24. Deadly war.
25. “Graybacks” are lice.
26. Sherman bombarded noncombatants in Atlanta for five weeks.
27. Margret Mitchell, author of Gone with the Wind, considered Sam Watkins's memoirs to be among the best information sources of the Civil War. Perhaps her impression of the Atlanta hospital stems from this description.
28. Wheeler's cavalry had been sent on a raid to destroy Sherman's railroad supply line to the north, but it was gone longer than Hood expected. Actually, Hood sent General Hardee to Jonesboro with two corps. One was S. D. Lee's and the other was Hardee's, which Hardee temporarily assigned to Cleburne. Watkins was in Cleburne's command, which was composed of divisions under Generals George Maney, John Brown, and Mark Lowery.
29. Once Sherman threatened to cut the last railroad link out of Atlanta, it was pointless for the Army of Tennessee to try to hold the city. It would be trapped inside it, much like Pemberton's Confederate army at Vicksburg that was forced to surrender to Grant about fourteen months earlier.
FOURTEEN
JONESBORO
THE BATTLE OF JONESBORO
Stewart's corps was at Atlanta, Lee's corps was bet
ween Atlanta and Jonesboro, and Cheatham's corps, then numbering not more than five thousand men—because the woods and roads were full of straggling soldiers, who were not in the fight—was face to face with the whole Yankee army, and he was compelled to flee, fight, or surrender. This was the position and condition of the grand Army of Tennessee on this memorable occasion.1
If I am not mistaken, General Cleburne was commanding Cheatham's corps at that time.2
We expected to be ordered into action every moment, and kept see-sawing backward and forward, until I did not know which way the Yankees were, or which way the Rebels. We would form line of battle, charge bayonets, and would raise a whoop and yell, expecting to be dashed right against the Yankee lines, and then the order would be given to retreat. Then we would immediately re-form and be ordered to charge again a mile off at another place. Then we would march and counter march backward and forward over the same ground, passing through Jonesboro away over the hill, and then back through the town, first four forward and back; your right hand to your left hand lady, swing half round and balance all. This sort of a movement is called a “feint.” A feint is what is called in poker a “bluff,” or what is called in a bully a “brag.” A feint means anything but a fight. If a lady faints she is either scared or in love, and wants to fall in her lover's arms. If an army makes a feint movement, it is trying to hide some other movement.
“Hello, Lee, what does Cleburne say the Yankees are doing at Jonesboro?”
“They are fanning themselves.”
“Well keep up that feint movement until all the boys faint from sheer exhaustion.”
“Hello, Stewart, do you think you will be able to burn up those ten locomotives, and destroy those hundred car loads of provisions by day after tomorrow?”
“Lee, ask Cleburne if he feels feinty? Ask him how a fellow feels when he feints?”
Cleburne says: “I have feinted, feinted, and feinted, until I can't feint any longer.”
“Well,” says Hood, “if you can't feint any longer, you had better flee, fight, or faint; Balaam gets along mighty slow, but I'll be thar after awhile.”
At one o'clock we were ordered to the attack. We had to pass through an osage orange hedge that was worse than the enemy's fire. Their breastworks were before us. We yelled, and charged, and hurrahed, and said booh! booh! we're coming, coming, look out, don't you see us coming? Why don't you let us hear the cannon's opening roar? Why don't you rattle a few old muskets over there at us? Booh! booh! we are coming. Tag. We have done got to your breastworks. Now, we tagged first, why don't you tag back? A Yankee seems to be lying on the other side of the breastworks sunning himself, and raising himself on his elbow, says, “Fool who with your fatty bread? W-e are too o-l-d a-birds to be Caught with that kind of chaff. We don't want any of that kind of pie. What you got there wouldn't make a mouthful. Bring on your pudding and pound-cake, and then we will talk to ye.”
General Granberry, who, poor fellow, was killed in the butchery at Franklin afterwards, goes up to the breastworks, and says, “Look here, Yank, we're fighting, sure enough.”
Meynheer Dutchman comes out; and says, “Ish dot so? Vel I ish peen von leetle pit hungry dish morning, und I yust gobble you up for mein lunch pefore tinner dime. Dot ish der kind of mans vot I bees!”
Now, reader, that is a fine description of this memorable battle. That's it—no more, no less. I was in it all, and saw General Granberry captured. We did our level best to get up a fight, but it was no go, any way we could fix it up.3
I mean no disrespect to General Hood. He was a noble, brave, and good man, and we loved him for his many virtues and goodness of heart. I do not propose to criticize his generalship or ability as a commander. I only write of the impression and sentiment that were made upon the private's mind at the time, and as I remember them now. But Atlanta had fallen into the hands of the Yankees, and they were satisfied for the time.4
DEATH OF LIEUTENANT JOHN WHITTAKER
At this place we built small breastworks, but for what purpose I never knew. The Yankees seemed determined not to fight, no way we could fix it. Every now and then they would send over a “feeler,” to see how we were getting along. Sometimes these “feelers” would do some damage. I remember one morning we were away over a hill, and every now and then here would come one of those lazy-looking “feelers,” just bouncing along as if he were in no hurry, called in military “ricochet.” They were very easy to dodge, if you could see them in time.
Well, one morning as before remarked, Lieutenant John Whittaker, then in command of Company H, and myself were sitting down eating breakfast out of the same tin plate. We were sopping gravy out with some cold corn bread, when Captain W. C. Flournoy, of the Martin Guards, hallooed out, “Look out, Sam; look! look!” I just turned my head, and in turning, the cannon ball knocked my hat off, and striking Lieutenant Whittaker full in the side of the head, carried away the whole of the skull part, leaving only the face. His brains fell in the plate from which we were sopping, and his head fell in my lap, deluging my face and clothes with his blood. Poor fellow, he never knew what hurt him. His spirit went to its God that morning. Green Rieves carried the poor boy off on his shoulder, and, after wrapping him up in a blanket, buried him. His bones are at Jonesboro today. The cannon ball did not go twenty yards after accomplishing its work of death. Captain Flournoy laughed at me, and said, “Sam, that came very near getting you. One-tenth of an inch more would have cooked your goose.”
I saw another man try to stop one of those balls that was just rolling along on the ground. He put his foot out to stop the ball but the ball did not stop, but, instead, carried the man's leg off with it. He no doubt today walks on a cork-leg, and is tax collector of the county in which he lives. I saw a thoughtless boy trying to catch one in his hands as it bounced along. He caught it, but the next moment his spirit had gone to meet its God. But, poor John, we all loved him. He died for his country. His soul is with his God. He gave his all for the country he loved, and may he rest in peace under the shade of the tree where he is buried, and may the birds sing their sweetest songs, the flowers put forth their most beautiful blooms, while the gentle breezes play about the brave boy's grave. Green Rieves was the only person at the funeral; no tears of a loving mother or gentle sister were there. Green interred his body, and there it will remain till the resurrection.
John Whittaker deserves more than a passing notice. He was noble and brave, and when he was killed, Company H was without an officer then commanding. Every single officer had been killed, wounded, or captured. John served as a private soldier the first year of the war, and at the reorganization at Corinth, Mississippi, he, W. J. Whitthorne and myself all ran for orderly sergeant of Company H, and John was elected, and the first vacancy occurring after the death of Captain Webster, he was commissioned brevet second lieutenant. When the war broke out, John was clerking for John L. & T. S. Brandon, in Columbia. He had been in every march, skirmish, and battle that had been fought during the war. Along the dusty road, on the march, in the bivouac and on the battlefield, he was the same noble, generous boy; always, kind, ever gentle, a smile ever lighting up his countenance. He was one of the most even tempered men I ever knew. I never knew him to speak an unkind word to anyone, or use a profane or vulgar word in my life.
One of those ricochet cannon balls struck my old friend, N. B. Shepard. Shep was one of the bravest and best soldiers who ever shouldered a musket. It is true, he was but a private soldier, but he was the best friend I had during the whole war. In intellect he was far ahead of most of the generals, and would have honored and adorned the name of general in the C. S. A. He was ever brave and true. He followed our cause to the end, yet all the time an invalid. Today he is languishing on a bed of pain and sickness, caused by that ball at Jonesboro. The ball struck him on his knapsack, knocking him twenty feet, and breaking one or two ribs and dislocating his shoulder.
He was one of God's noblemen, indeed—none braver, none more generous. God alone
controls our destinies, and surely He who watched over us and took care of us in those dark and bloody days, will not forsake us now. God alone fits and prepares for us the things that are in store for us. There is none so wise as to foresee the future or foretell the end. God sometimes seems afar off, but He will never leave or forsake anyone who puts his trust in Him. The day will come when the good as well as evil will all meet on one broad platform, to be rewarded for the deeds done in the body, when time shall end, with the gates of eternity closed, and the key fastened to the girdle of God forever. Pardon me, reader, I have wandered. But when my mind reverts to those scenes and times, I seem to live in another age and time and I sometimes think that “after us comes the end of the universe.”
I am not trying to moralize, I am only trying to write a few scenes and incidents that came under the observation of a poor old Rebel webfoot private soldier in those stormy days and times. Histories tell the great facts, while I only tell of the minor incidents.
But on this day of which I now write, we can see in plain view more than a thousand Yankee battle-flags waving on top the red earthworks, not more than four hundred yards off. Every private soldier there knew that General Hood's army was scattered all the way from Jonesboro to Atlanta, a distance of twenty-five miles, without any order, discipline, or spirit to do anything. We could hear General Stewart, away back yonder in Atlanta, still blowing up arsenals, and smashing things generally, while Stephen D. Lee was somewhere between Lovejoy Station and Macon, scattering. And here was but a demoralized remnant of Cheatham's corps facing the whole Yankee army. I have ever thought that Sherman was a poor general, not to have captured Hood and his whole army at that time.5
But it matters not what I thought, as I am not trying to tell the ifs and ands, but only of what I saw. In a word, we had everything against us. The soldiers distrusted everything. They were broken down with their long days’ hard marching—were almost dead with hunger and fatigue. Every one was taking his own course, and wishing and praying to be captured. Hard and senseless marching, with little sleep, half rations, and lice, had made their lives a misery. Each one prayed that all this foolishness might end one way or the other. It was too much for human endurance. Every private soldier knew that such things as this could not last. They were willing to ring down the curtain, put out the footlights and go home. There was no hope in the future for them.