Personal Recollections of Sherman's Campaigns in Georgia and the Carolinas

by George W Pepper

  The rebels got off a large portion of their wounded during the fight. The next day the enemy sent in a flag of truce, desiring to get their dead.

  The day's work seemed over. Our line tonight, would be that of last night. Men, separated in the heat of battle of the day, now chancing to meet, congratulated each other. “The rebels can't endure such another day, and we can," was the expressed conviction on all hands, and this statement epitomizes the situation at sunset. The sun went down red, the smoke of battle of over a hundred thousand men destroying each other with villainous saltpetre, through all the long hours of a long day, filled the valleys and rested upon the hills of all this country, hung in lurid haze all around the horizon, and built a dense canopy overhead, beneath which this grand Army of Freedom was preparing to rest, against the morrow. Quiet reigned, but during the reign of quiet, the enemy was forging a thunderbolt. Darkness and smoke were mingling in grim twilight, and fast deepening into thick gloom, when we were startled out of repose back into fierce excitement. The forged thunderbolt was sped, and by a master. A wild rebel yell away to the right— they had massed and were charging.

  The enemy came down like a torrent, rolling and dashing in living waves, and flooding up against our lines. The thrilling description of Junius A. Brown, of another bloody battle, might be very appropriately applied to this terrible engagement.

  Four o'clock P. M. was fixed by Hood, for the grand assault on the Fifteenth Corps, which held the right of the Army of the Tennessee, behind excellent breastworks. Meantime a feigned attack was made against our left, while Hood precipitated his fierce legions upon Logan, driving before him two regiments, and capturing two guns. The fight continued with a ferocity on the part of the rebels, never before witnessed. The whole strength, nearly, of the entire rebel forces, were advancing on the centre, and all our available strength was required to prevent its being overwhelmed by the terrible onset of a desperate enemy. Lightburn, commanding a brigade in the Fifteenth Corps, was forced to retire, losing a twenty-pound Parrot, and four guns. A terrific volley of musketry and artillery mowed down our gallant boys as they steadily advanced. Morgan L. Smith's Division lost a thousand in the charge. Charge after charge was made upon the rebels, to regain the ground we had lost.

  The balance of victory ever varied. It now inclined to this side, and now to that. Here Logan's men gained an advantage, there the Confederates. Advance was followed by retreat, success by repulse. Success was always shifting, but never settled. Hope and fear, joy and sorrow, seized the soul by turns, and every hour held a month of emotions. All consciousness of time ceased;all thought of the future, all recollection of the past, everything was absorbed in the sanguinary present, and external nature assumed the hue of blood. Men glared at each other as at wild beasts, and when a shell burst with fatal effect among a crowd of the advancing foe, and arms, legs and heads were torn off, a grim smile of pleasure lighted up the smoke-begrimed faces of the transformed beings who witnessed the catastrophe. Soldiers were wounded and knew it not, so intense was their excitement, and often a mortal hurt was announced to the victim only by the cessation of vitality. Men with knitted brows and flushed cheeks, fought madly over ridges, along ravines, and up steep ascents, with blood and perspiration streaming down their faces. Men with shattered fingers changed their muskets to the left hands, and still fired their pieces as best they could. Everywhere was mad excitement, everywhere was horror. Commanders galloped wildly to the front of their regiments, and cheered them on, using their sabres on each and every foe, and urging on their spirited troops wherever they were falling back.

  A crisis had arrived. General Logan was busy in the midst of the terrible conflict. He rode up and down the lines, regardless of a storm of balls and shells, directing the movements of his Corps, inspiring and encouraging the men. His conduct was magnificent.

  Sherman being present, near Colonel Howard's house, ordered two batteries to a position commanding a flank fire upon the enemy. The Fifteenth Corps was then peremptorily ordered to regain the lost ground, and to retake the lost guns. General Charles R. Woods, with his division, came up, going into action at once, leading the charge. Woods himself dashed wildly into the hottest of the fight, cap in hand, cheering on the men. The charges of our men were stubbornly resisted, but the determination of the onset overwhelmed everything. The fight was terrific. Notwithstanding the frightful havoc in their ranks, the rebels pressed fiercely on — our boys rushed on their rifle-pits, bayoneting them in their works, cutting the lines and capturing hundreds of prisoners, careless of their own lives, as if they had a million souls to spare.

  Captains, Majors, Colonels and Generals fought like common soldiers, and it was not uncommon to see a field officer firing a musket, or charging with his revolver upon the advancing foe.

  There was no pause in the battle. The roar of the strife was ever heard. The artillery bellowed and thundered, and the dreadful echoes went sweeping down the valleys, and the paths were filled with the dying and the dead. The sound was deafening — the tumult indescribable. No life was worth a farthing; for he who lifted his musket this moment, fell the next, a stiffened corpse. Yonder, a fresh regiment rushed bravely forward, and ere they had gone twenty yards, a charge of grape sent the foremost men bleeding to the earth. Whole heaps of corpses lay upon the bloody ground, and fixed eyes stared at the surrounding strife, with the awful stare of death. Wild mockery, dreadful vision. But who cared for it? Death was not to be thought of, but to be met with indifference, come what might. Death was in the air, and bloomed like a poison plant, on every foot of soil. The rebels fought with a fierceness seldom, if ever equalled.

  They stood firm as a rock, and though our artillery swept down their ranks, and left fearful gaps in their columns, they manifested no trepidation, nor did they waver for a moment. The living supplied the place of the dead. The musket that had fallen from a lifeless hand, was seized at once, and the horrid strife went on as before. The force of the enemy appeared increasing, and where the greatest havoc was made, there the strongest opposition was shown. Hand to hand contests were innumerable. Every struggle was for life. Quarter was asked on neither side, and the ground drank up the blood of hundreds of brave fellows everywhere. Men lost their semblance of humanity, and the spirit of the demon shone in their faces. There was but one desire, and that was to destroy. There was little shouting — the warriors were too much in earnest. They set their teeth firm, and strained their every nerve to its utmost tension. Death lost all its terrors, and men seemed to feast upon the sight of blood. The light of the sun was obscured by the clouds of sulphurous smoke, and the ground became moist and slippery with human gore. The atmosphere trembled with the shock of the armies, and the earth shook with the tramp of the thousands and tens of thousands of warring foes.

  Now came the grand cowp de main. The two lines came on exultant and sure of victory. All our artillery was opened upon them. Words cannot describe the awful effects of this discharge; seventeen thousand rifles, and several batteries of artillery, each gun loaded to the muzzle with grape and canister, were fired simultaneously, and the whole centre of the rebel line was crushed, down as a field of ripe wheat, through which a tornado had passed. The assault continued, until the rebel column gave way before the long lines of cannon and the desperate gallantry of as brave men as ever trod mother earth. This news was so inspiring, that a general jubilee of cheers, succeeded the announcement. It is estimated that our loss was three thousand seven hundred and twenty-two, killed, wounded and prisoners. The rebel loss was ten thousand, including three thousand killed, and three thousand prisoners. General Logan himself, buried over two thousand of the rebel dead. The enemy also lost eighteen stand of colors, and five thousand stand of arms. The Confederates fought desperately and bravely, but they could not withstand the fierce and overpowering onslaught of our men.

  Thus ended the fearful and bloody struggle of the 22d of July.

  Well may the land take up the refrain of Booker's magnificent
hymn, for a Philadelphia regiment;

  Help us Lord, our only trust,

  We are helpless, we are dust.

  All our homes are red with blood,

  Long our grief we have withstood;

  Every lintel, each door-post,

  Drips at tidings from the host;

  With the blood of some one lost

  Help us Lord, our only trust,

  We are helpless, we are dust.

  Major General M. D. Leggett, whose noble Division was so conspicuously engaged in this memorable battle, is a citizen of Ohio, and brightly does his name shine among the brave thousands whom that State has furnished to the defense of the National cause. Leggett is one of the best and bravest soldiers of the Union Army. When the war broke out, he was successfully and lucratively engaged in superintending the Public Schools of Zanesville, Ohio, and only embraced the profession of arms, because the Republic was in peril. He raised and commanded for a year, the 78th Ohio, when he was assigned to the command of a brigade. For gallant and distinguished conduct in the South-west, he was appointed a Brigadier General. For enterprising and intrepid fighting in front of Atlanta, he was brevetted Major General. Leggett is a man that never sought a royal road to promotion. He had gone steadily through ail the grades from a Captaincy up to a Major General. He distinguished himself as the successor of Logan, in the command of the old Third Division, of the Seventeenth Corps. He commanded his fine division in the great march through Georgia and the Carolinas. He is looked upon by Sherman, as an officer of tried talents and experience, an ornament to the profession, and calculated to render important services to the country. General Leggett is possessed of a robust person, dark complexion, is nearly six feet in height, and highly educated. In manners, he is remarkably quiet, modest and reserved.

  The troops, in their tedious marches in, around and in rear of Atlanta, were animated by the prospect of soon entering the Gate City. Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but theirs, brightening daily into fuller radiance, shed a ray of gladness over their tedious path. They knew and felt that every successive step was diminishing the distance which intervened between them and their heart's desire. And when at length the well-laid plans of the great Captain, at Jonesboro, flowered out in the most brilliant victory of the war, unbounded enthusiasm was everywhere manifested. Regiments, Brigades and Divisions, when they beheld the spires of the evacuated city — with one accord, in a voice loud as the sound of many waters, broke out into the most continuous and deafening cheers that ever came from mortal throats. When Oliver Cromwell stood upon the heights of Dunbar, looking to .the contest of his Ironsides with the Scotch army, he declared: "I profess they begin to run." The capture of Atlanta is an indication that the rebels are beginning to run—their ranks are being broken and destroyed.

  And just as that great commander gave instructions to his hosts, that now is the time to complete the work this was a great and brilliant victory. Verily, from our great cities, forests, cataracts, and prairies, there should go up to Jehovah, such a Psalm of praise as this Western world never heard. Never, in the history of generalship, has there been such unparalleled successes as have followed each other in quick succession during the past few months. The cry of freedom bursts from the unfettered earth, and the banners of victory wave in all the winds of Heaven. Awake, awake, from frames of thankless sadness! Awake, psaltery and harp. Oh, ye foreign nations, panting to be free, break forth into singing! It is this victory which causes every eye to glisten— and every heart to beat with rapture. It is this grand success that strings every harp, that harmonizes every sorrow for the patriot dead, that "swells every chorus, that perpetuates every ecstasy, and provokes every joy.

  Praise ye the Lord! Hark, how the nation rejoices, and its many minstrels challenge the harpers of the sky. Sing with us, ye Heavens.

  The death of General McPherson cast a profound gloom over the troops he so long commanded. He leaves behind him a splendid and spotless reputation. Long will his name be remembered, as a chivalrous soldier and conscientious patriot. General McPherson was emphatically a soldier. This is his most appropriate title. It was on the battle-field he earned he chief of his laurels, and his name, through all succeeding ages, will be associated with sanguinary contests, and splendidly won victories. The elements of his character were predominant and distinct, and yet in all of the countless eulogies on him, these Elements are strangely omitted.

  He gave himself thoroughly and devotedly to the study of the work that he had to do. His early history affords some striking illustrations of this. To his forecasting mind everything was anticipated! He became great by a minute attention to little things! He never talked about his "star" or his "destiny," never calculated upon lucky chances in the chapter of accidents! In a plain straight-forward way he calculated every contingency and provided for it. He was always laying up stores of knowledge for future use. He, depended upon the great laws of cause and effect, and not upon the possible exceptions to them. Another, feature of McPherson's character was his uncompromising discharge of duty. Duty sat enthroned on his, brow, and its supremacy was as manifest in General, McPherson, the beloved commander of the Army of the, Tennessee, as in Lieutenant McPherson of the Regular Army. He had a profound reverence for law, political and moral. While some Generals were emblazoning their dispatches with the rapture of glory, McPherson simply recorded in his the discharge of duty.

  Other features of his character constituting and marking his greatness, some of them moral, some of them, social, might easily be specified. For example: his manly uprightness, his pure and disinterested patriotism, his moderation and simplicity, his self-denial and truthfulness, his self-reliance and industry, and last, "but not least, either in beauty or significance, his love of home, finding there delight and satisfaction. General McPherson was a model of a soldier. He was as gentlemanly as Chesterfield, and as chivalrous as Bayard. He was the brightest star in the constellation of genius, which Grant called about him in his brilliant career. He was a noble man, a fine scholar, and an exemplary Christian. Noble, glorious, patriot. About ten o'clock, on the morning of the 22d of July, General McPherson rode up to the Headquarters of, General Sherman—dismounting, the two Generals seated themselves beneath a tree nearby, and were conversing on the subject of a speedy occupation of Atlanta. About twelve o'clock, mid-day, slight firing was heard on the left. The fire grew in volume, and McPherson, ever at the post of danger, threw himself into his saddle and, dashed off in the threatened direction. Upon reaching, the scene of the conflict, he found one of his Corps, the Sixteenth stoutly contesting a heavy column on its front. Failing here the enemy next massed in front of Giles A Smith's Division, which held the left of the Seventeenth Corps. At the time of the first attack there was a gap between the right of the Sixteenth and left of the Seventeenth Corps. Supposing the gap was clear, as it had been traversed but ten minutes before, the General started to ride across, it being the nearest route to the scene of the second attack. He was accompanied a portion of the way by his Inspector General, Lieutenant Colonel William E. Strong.

  Upon reaching the point where the road entered the wood, the General halted, and after looking the ground over carefully, ordered Colonel Strong to direct General John A. Logan, of the Fifteenth Corps, to throw a brigade across the gap, East of the road, connecting with the right of the Sixteenth Corps, with instructions to join him at General Giles A. Smith's command. Colonel Strong rode off to obey his instructions, and the General, alone, dashed spiritedly down the road and into the woods. By this time the rebel skirmishers had reached the road. General McPherson had ridden within twenty yards of their line before they were seen. The rebel officer cried: "Halt." The General politely raised his hat, bowed, wheeled his horse to the right, and dashed into the wood. The enemy followed him with a volley. McPherson fell, and his horse soon came out of the woods alone, wounded in two places. The saddle and equipments exhibited bullet marks. The horse was discovered by Captain Howard, of the Signal Corps, who al
so heard the volley. It was hoped that the General was either wounded or captured. Private Joseph Sharland, of the 64th Illinois Infantry, returning from the skirmish line, followed by a straggler, entered the road, and had proceeded but a short distance when he heard a voice, about five rods distant, telling him it was safer there. This was done in order to attract his attention, and not to alarm the General. The soldier entered the woods, where he found a man severely wounded, whose name was George Reynolds, of the 15th Iowa Volunteers, Fourth Division, Seventeenth Corps, and by his side lay General McPherson, writhing in the most intense agony from a mortal wound. A Minnie ball had entered his right breast, passed near the heart, and made its exit near the left side, passing completely through the body. The soldier offered his general some cold water from his canteen, but he could not drink it. He then asked to bathe his temples. To this the General merely faintly nodded assent. During gleams of cessation from pain, the General would make an effort for his hat. Upon search, it was found that both this and his belt had been stolen. About five minutes after a rebel straggler came up and claimed the soldiers as his prisoners; but, the wounds of one and the blood on the pantaloons of the other, dissuaded him from carrying out his demand. Soon after, four more rebels came up, and two of our own stragglers passed nearby, one of the rebels now extracted the papers from McPherson's pocket and secured his watch and marine-glass. They took nothing more, and asked no questions. While being rifled, the General sat up and faintly again asked for his hat. After this he lost all power of articulation. The rebels now ordered the two soldiers to follow them. They replied, if they wished to take them they would have to be carried; as they could not walk. With this information the rebels left. After they were out of sight, it was agreed that the unwounded soldier should go on in search of an ambulance, while the other should remain with the General. After walking about a fourth of a mile he struck the rebel skirmish line, and by dint of stout running, escaped and returned to the General. He had just died in great agony, from the effect of which his face and body were horribly distorted. McPherson being dead, the two soldiers fearing capture, determined to go in search of an ambulance. Before leaving they secured what was left about the General's person. An inventory was taken, and the whole placed in the hands of Reynolds, who being wounded, it was supposed would not be robbed if taken prisoner. The two soldiers now started on their errand in the direction of the trains and ambulances, which they could see moving at a distance. While arranging for an ambulance, three officers rode up. The soldiers explained their object. The ambulance was at once ordered to the spot. The rebel skirmishers were advancing and bullets were flying in all directions. One of the soldiers now informed the staff officers of' the danger, and all drew their revolvers. The General's body was hastily carried out of the woods, and placed in the ambulance, and whirling around, the whole party dashed up the road, under a volley which was fired after them. Upon reaching Sherman’s Headquarters, the body was conveyed to a house. Private Reynolds, who remained faithfully by the side, and watched the last moments of his fallen commander, was taken to the nearest hospital where his wounds were carefully dressed.