USA > Alabama > History of the First Regiment, Alabama Volunteer Infantry, C.S.A. > Part 7
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About 9 p. m. June 2, the army began its retreat to Lost Mountain, a distance of six miles, a march the most memorable in the long service of the regiment. Our road led across a range of high and steep red hills intersected with frequent streams which, normally insignificant, had been swollen by the recent heavy rains into roaring torrents. The soft, slippery clay on the tops and sides of the hills, except occasional stretches of boulders, the interstices of which were cut up into deep holes of slush, had been worked into a solid pulp a foot or more deep by our heavy army wagons. A chilly rain was falling in intermittent showers, the night was so intensely dark that the hand could not be seen an inch before the eyes, while the angry peals of thunder leaping from cliff to cliff along the mountain crests blended into one prolonged, continuous sullen roar. All nature seemed up in arms against us. Men as they struggled along the road, each for himself, and with no respect for mili- tary order, sank to their knees in mud from which with diffi- culty they extricated themselves; or confiding too much to the smooth, slippery, treacherous surface of a projecting boulder, were hurled headlong, baggage and all, into the deep mud. Wagons and teams all along were stuck fast. Streams, some- times reaching up to our shoulders, were waded as we came to them. It was nearly daylight when we reached our position
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on Lost Mountain, and the morning sun soon revealed an army of men literally covered with red mud.
The Federal's advance came up about noon, and a heavy skirmish ensued at the foot of the mountain. That night our pickets intrenched in rifle-pits on the side of the mountain, the enemy a short distance below them. We occupied this po- sition about a week, the enemy not attempting to advance in our front. But heavy firing, generally on our left, was in progress every day. On the night of June II we fell back to Pine Moun- tain, where the regiment again occupied a strong position, and was never attacked, in force. While on this line our Lieut .- Gen. Polk was killed by a fragment of shell. His death was deeply lamented by the whole army, but especially by his corps. June 16 the regiment retreated to Kenesaw Mountain, our position being on the highest ridge. Here, as at Lost and Pine Mountains, the enemy made several dashes up the sides of the mountain upon our rifle pits, but were repulsed. Sherman's main attacks were upon the flanks of the army, and as our corps occupied the center, we had little fighting. From our heights on Kenesaw we witnessed several hard battles on the flank. Also, there were heavy rains almost daily since we left New Hope Church.
July 2 we fell back to a position two miles below Marietta, Ga. The rear of our position here was an old field; the front, recently a forest whose timber had been felled for 100 yards as an obstruction to the enemy. We found here a ditch ready for our occupancy. July 3 the Federals advanced in force to the edge of the timber in front, planted a battery on our right, and about 2 p. m. made a fierce attack from their positions, but did not charge. Heavy sharp-shooting was kept up all night, and we slept on our arms. July 4th the enemy fired National salutes with loaded shot and shell at us, their brass bands along the lines struck up National airs with loud huzzahs. To us it looked like a big gala day among the Federals. They were drinking whiskey and in high glee. About 2 p. m. three double lines advanced about seventy yards over the felled tim- ber, halted about seventy-five yards from us, when the men stringing out under a big oak log and picking it up, limbs and all, would swing it around parallel to our breast works, form- ing a pretty good defense for themselves. They did this in 15 minutes, under a murderous fire from our lines. Nobody but
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a set of drunken fools would have attempted such a thing. From this time till night, the firing was heavy. Dr. Madding, our assistant surgeon, and loved by every member of the regi- ment, was killed.
That night it fell to the lot of our brigade to cover the re- treat of Johnston's army. The men began filing silently to the rear by 9 p. m., and by II p. m. the ditches were empty, and Quarles's brigade alone fronted Sherman's army. It was two hours later before we left, and they were hours of anxiety. We knew that the enemy had but to advance to capture us, and all those indications of advance so well known to Confederates, were in strong evidence. About I a. m. the command "File right, march," was whispered along the line. We moved out noiselessly; and, stooping to conceal our movements, had gone but a few yards when Lieut. Knight was wounded by a bullet piercing his thigh and crushing the bone. He fell, but such was his pluck and presence of mind that not a groan escaped him, and without a word being spoken, he was picked up by the litter-bearers and borne on with us.
Next morning we reached our position on the north bank of the Chattahoochee river and intrenched. The enemy soon came up, and skirmishing resumed. We remained here until July 9, when we crossed the river and took position on Peach- tree Creek. We occupied this position until the 16th, engaged in daily skirmishing, when we fell back to the defenses of At- lanta, our last stronghold.
GEN. HOOD SUPERSEDES GEN. JOHNSTON.
On July 18, it was announced that Gen. J. B. Hood had su- perseded Gen. Joseph E. Johnston. The news thunderstruck the army. Gloomy forebodings took the place of buoyant hope, and a keen sense of degradation was felt that the Army of Tennessee, heretofore commanded by a full general, was now to be commanded by a third rate general-a major-general, lately promoted to lieutenant-general. We should have had the same feeling if any other of like rank had been put in com- mand, except, possibly Gen. Longstreet. Further, it was be- lieved to be the result of intrigue at Richmond, and of the clamor of non-combatants at home. But for the patriotism of the army there would have been a vehement protest. As it was,
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there was sullen submission. The army entertained the high- est opinion of Gen. Hood as a major-general. They knew he was loyal, patriotic and brave, but doubted his ability to com- mand the army. Johnston, by daily object lessons of partial engagements in which he was always victorious during his masterful retreat from Dalton to Atlanta, had inspired his men with a faith and enthusiasm seldom attained by any general. Neither the veterans of Lee nor the imperial guard of Napol- eon trusted its general more implicitly, or followed him with more unbounded enthusiasm. Johnston they could fol- low with certainty of victory; Hood, only with apprehension of defeat and disaster. And had Gen. Johnston, even against his judgment, led his little army against Sherman, a very dif- ferent account of the siege of Atlanta could be written. To even the casual observer, a change in commanders would have been apparent. The most perfect order and system in the move- ments of the army were suddenly changed into utter confus- ion. Cavalry were hurrying in one direction; artillery, flying in another; infantry, double-quicking in another; and every- where confusion.
On the morning of July 20, Hood attacked Sherman's left, but our regiment being in reserve, was not engaged. Neither side gained any advantage. July 22 Hood again attacked Sher- man's left near Decatur with a much greater force, his object being to destroy Sherman's flanking column. This was one of the two great battles of Atlanta. Hood drove back the enemy, captured three thousand prisoners, but it was done at a fearful sacrifice of men; and, as the enemy recaptured this position, there was no distinct gain to the Confederates. Our regiment was not engaged.
About II a. m., July 28th, while preparing dinner, we were ordered into line and moved at quick time towards our left, and soon came to the poor house road in the edge of the woods. The day was intensely hot, without a breeze. After an hour of rest, we marched up the road and soon came in hearing of musketry ahead. We began to meet ambulances bringing our wounded from the battle, and the rattle of musketry was becoming more distinct. The regiment was drawn up in the edge of the wood, fronting an old worn- out pasture. The enemy's position was a quarter of a mile in front, at the edge of the woods along the opposite side of this
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pasture. The forest was of oak with dense undergrowth. The form of the surface between our regiment and the enemy was thus : gradual ascent 100 yards, level 150 yards, gradual descent 100 yards, steep hill 20 yards, a slough 20 yards wide, ascent of steep hill 20 yards, level to the enemy's position 25 yards. The position of the regiment where first formed, was excluded from the view of the enemy by the inclined plane in front. The Federals had no artillery until near the close of the battle, when they brought into action two Parrott guns nearly one-half mile from our right. These did us no harm.
It was 2 p. m. when the regiment took its position as above described. The first thing that attracted our attention was Cantey's brigade to our right front, on top of the hill and under heavy fire. They were making no reply nor advancing, and seemed to be waiting for us. We were ordered forward. Reaching the top of the hill on Cantey's left, and now ourselves under heavy fire, we were ordered to double-quick. We charg- ed over the level space, down the descent and steep hill into the slough. A few in their zeal started up the hill beyond the slough, but were ordered back. All were ordered to lie down. Many of our comrades were left dead or wounded behind us. Cantey's brigade was not on our right as expected, nor did we again see anything of it during the battle. Two double lines of the enemy stood behind their breastworks in front. We waited half an hour for reinforcements and orders to advance. In the meanwhile the enemy were enfilading our position in the slough, and rapidly killing and wounding our men. While in this position lying on the ground John Reeves was on my left and between me and Lieut. A. Haley. The latter called my at- tention, and asked: "Isn't John killed?" I looked at Reeves. He had not changed his position on the ground or even uttered a groan. Still, he was lying motionless and made no reply. A moment later I noticed the blood gushing from a wound in his head. He was dead. Lieut. Haley is still (1904) living, I believe-perhaps at Troy, Ala. Reinforcements never came, and instead of orders to advance we were, after heavy loss, ordered to fall back. The retreat, as usual, was more disastrous than the advance, because the fire of the enemy was more delib- erate, and in consequence more accurate ; and our men, now hav- ing to move up hill instead of down, and being hot and fa- tigued, required a longer time to recross the same space. The
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regiment was re-formed on the same ground where it had been first formed for the battle, and again charged into the slough, being ordered as before to halt and lie down. The enemy was now sweeping the slough with a leaden tempest. Men were be- ing killed and wounded faster than on the charge. After an- other half hour we were ordered to fall back, and were again exposed to a fearful fire. Forming again at the same place we charged the third time into the same siough, and the third time were ordered to halt and lie down in this ravine of de- struction. Again, after half an hour we were ordered back. Almost completely exhausted by heat and exertion, we could scarcely walk. Many did not attempt it; but, resigned to their fate, awaited death or capture. Others, mastering all their strength and courage, began the retrograde movement in a slow walk back across the open space. The ravine and field were thickly strewn with the dead and wounded of the regi- ment, among the latter being our commander, Maj. S. L. Knox.
I relate one incident of the last retreat as illustrating a com- mon scene after battle. We had passed nearly out of danger when I saw Lieut. W. A. Andrews of the Perote Guards fall. No litter-bearer being in sight, with a passing comrade I went to his assistance. The lieutenant was wounded in the ankle. We picked him up and were carrying him from the field when he was again struck, the ball this time ranging diagonally through his thigh and breaking the bone. He turned pale and requested that we lay him down and let him die. We procured a litter, placed him on it, and had reached the edge of woods where the regiment first formed. Here, leaning calmly against a sapling on the bank of a stream, we came upon Sergt. Bryant Brooks of the same company. There was nothing in his ap- pearance to indicate anything serious. To my question whether he was hurt, he replied: "Yes, I suppose I have my death wound," at the same time placing his hand upon his right breast. Requesting a passing comrade to take my place under Andrews's litter, I stopped with Brooks. Having examined his wound, and seeing that the ball had probably passed through his right lung, I told him that his condition was indeed serious ; then, wishing to say something to cheer him, I added that such wounds were not always fatal, and that he must not give up hope of life. Looking me full in the face, he replied with earnestness and composure, in such a tone that I could not es-
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cape some sense of reproach: "I have not the slightest hope of surviving this wound, but you know me well, and ought to know that I am not afraid to die." I replied that I knew he was not afraid to die, but I wished to hope that he would get well. He was a young man of 21, the picture of vigorous man- hood, and had married but recently while at home on a fur- lough. Not a more heroic death than this was that of Sergt. Jasper, at Savannah, Ga., during our Revolution. Nor less he- roic than that of Brooks was the death of a hundred or more of the First Alabama's bravest men just up the hill there, and along its crest, and in the slough beyond.
In the meanwhile, evening twilight had come, the firing had ceased, when I secured a litter and litter-bearers on which Serg.t Brooks was gently placed and borne to the filed hospital three hundred yards distant, where I procured a cot and immediate medical attention. Here the scene was more distressing than the battle. A crude operating ta- ble had been erected under the trees around which for fifty yards the wounded were lying on the ground in ago- nizing groans. Blood-stained litters were leaning about against trees, and over all, a few tallow candles cast their dim and flickering light. Watching my opportunity, I brought the surgeon to Brooks. He examined the wound, beckoned the assistant surgeon, both made a hasty examination ; the two stepped back in consultation; the surgeon merely shaking his head negatively at me as he returned hurriedly to the amputa- tion table. Bidding my friend good-bye, I sought the camp of the regiment half a mile away. Sergt. Brooks died the next day. Lieut. Andrews's father lived about twenty-five miles from Atlanta, and two or three days later carried home his son by private conveyance, but the latter died only a few minutes before reaching the scenes of his boyhood. At the camp hardly one hundred of the three hundred of the regiment that had entered the battle had assembled. About 9 p. m. our commissary wagons arrived. We had eaten nothing since breakfast. Here was another touching scene when the names of our dead and wounded were called to go up to the wagons and get their rations. After supper the companies of the regiment in groups were busy making out lists of their respective dead and wounded. A few left in the ravine, having escaped Yankee bullets and becoming
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rested, made their way out under cover of darkness, and reached our camp. The amusing case was that of Private Wil- lingham, a tall, slender, dark-skinned comrade, six feet high. On our first charge, as we were descending the hill, he fell for- ward on his face, at the same time throwing his hand to his head. He thought he was killed and so did we. The next day he was found at the hospital not seriously hurt. A minie ball had struck him in the forehead, and glancing had torn up the skin in an ugly, but not dangerous wound.
To the question: "Why did the First Alabama halt in the slough instead of pressing on?" we give the reason afterwards given by our officers ; namely, because Quarles's brigade, that went nearer the enemy's works than any other command, was wholly unsupported." Another version was that our assault was merely a demonstration to keep the enemy from reinforc- ing his extreme right, the main point of our attack. It is cer- tain that there were no reserves as should have been in an actual attack.
The regiment's loss here, dead and wounded, was greater than during the whole siege of Port Huason, and greater than in any other battle in which the regiment was engaged, though, possibly the per cent of killed may have been greater at Frank- lin.
The next morning, July 29, the remnant of the regiment was marched back to our old position along the breastworks above Atlanta. There was daily skirmishing until August 25, when Sherman, abandoning our front, swung around our left and met our forces at Jonesborough, where a hard battle was fought. From this time to Sept. 18, the regiment was on picket duty, reaching out as far as McDonough and Lovejoy station, camping at the latter place about two weeks. Here Hood abandoned Sherman's front, giving up to the latter all South Georgia for depredation and robbery, while the former marched northwards to Sherman's rear. Hood's design was to cut off Sherman from his base of supplies at Chattanooga and invade Tennessee.
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MOVEMENT IN REAR OF SHERMAN'S ARMY, AND INVASION OF TENNESSEE.
We left Lovejoy station Sept. 18, 1864, and tore up the Geor- gia State Railroad to Dalton. Thence we turned southwest to Gadsden, Ala., and thence northwest to the south bank of the Tennessee river, opposite Florence, Ala., reaching the latter point Nov. 14, after a march of about 400 miles by the route we had traveled. On this march we crossed the Chattahoochee river at Phillips ferry, near Palmetto, Ga .; the Coosa river at Coosaville, Ga., and the Black Warrior near Summit, Ala. President Davis reviewed the army at Palmetto, and Gen. Beau- regard at Tuscumbia, Ala. The army was eager for the latter to command us on our contemplated campaign in Tennessee.
A few small garrisons left by Sherman were captured, ag- gregating about- 1,700 prisoners, but Gen. French's division had been repulsed at Alatoona with heavy loss. At Decatur, Ala., there was a heavy skirmish in which our regiment lost one man killed.
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CHAPTER V.
THE TENNESSEE CAMPAIGN, 1864.
TENNESSEE CAMPAIGN.
The regiment left Decatur October 29, 1864, and pass'ng through Courtland and Jonesboro, reached Tuscumbia, where it remained about two weeks. On November 14, the army reached the south bank of the Tennessee river, opposite Flor- ence, as before stated, and went into camps. On Nov. 20 the army crossed the river on pontoons, and entered upon the con- templated invasion of Tennessee. The day was cold, cloudy and windy, and scattering snowflakes were falling as Hood's army, thinly clad, poorly shod and half-fed, marched through the streets of Florence to the promised land of Tennessee. A few ladies appeared on galleries and at windows, giving the usual salutation by waving handkerchiefs, but their tears re- vealed that they were without any hope of success. We camped that night a few miles beyond Florence. The next day we crossed the State line designated by a sign-board which we loudly cheered. The fourth day after leaving Florence, we came to a large creek with a narrow valley walled in on both sides by high precipitous hills. The regiment marched up this creek the whole day, crossing it fourteen times on rude bridges hastily constructed by our pioneer corps. Bushwhackers hid- den in the cliffs, would fire down upon us, and then escape through mountain passes unknown to our men. These bush- whackers in the mountains of Tennessee and other border States were Union men not from patriotism, but for plunder and robbery. They were an infamous set from the first to the last of the war, murdering their neighbors and burning their property to a degree that put to shame the Tories of the Revo- lution. While on this march quite a number of our stragglers captured by them were killed at once, while others reached us
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The Tennessee Campaign, 1864.
with their ears and noses cut off, or other evidences of barbar- ous indignities. The better class ci Tennesseeans sympathized with the South, but previous to Hood's invasion had been compelled to take the oath of allegiance to the United States and didn't dare show us any favors. So in either case, we found no friends in Tennessee.
At Henryville, we emerged from the wildernees into a bet- ter community and soon reached Mount Pleasant, the home of Gen. Pillow, on the Columbia pike. Nov. 27 we arrived in front of Columbia, where we found the Federal army under Gen. Schofield intrenched. The march from Florence was made dnriug very cold weather and over frozen ground. Our rations were corn and peas that we gathered along the way and bread made of unbolted flour. Though we were in the land of plenty and were half starved, Gen. Hood allowed no depreda- tions.
About 9 p. m., November 28, an immense fire in Columbia revealed that the enemy was evacuating the town. By day- light next morning our corps marched rapidly to the northwest and crossed Duck river on pontoons four miles above Colum- bia. We then turned north and parallel to the Franklin pike, and about two or three miles cast of it. As the firing all day along the Franklin pike indicated, the enemy's retreat was being hotly pressed by Forrest, and a body of infantry. Our corps was on a forced march to pass the enemy and throw itself across the Franklin pike in front, thus cutting off his re- treat. A short spell of warm weather had thawed the ground, and whether on bottom or hills, we sank at every step in mud over our shoes. Our line of march was over a cultivated and open country, the high hills and dense cornstalks presenting a serious impediment to progress. About 9 p. m. we were halted one-quarter of a mile from the Franklin pike north of Spring Hill, and in rear of Schofield, who was then being hard pressed at Spring Hill, by Forrest. This day's march of twenty-eight miles by the route we had traveled was the greatest the regi- ment had ever performed. Stacking our arms and eating, we spread down our blankets upon the ground and were soon asleep, feeling sure that we had the enemy bagged. We sup- posed our corps extended across the Franklin pike. The ex- treme right was in two hundred yards of it, as we saw next
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morning. Why were we halted just there, leaving a way for the enemy to escape after all our hard marching?
The reason (if there was a reason and it was not a blunder ) is unknown to us. Had our corps been thrown across the pike, the battle of Franklin would have been fought at Spring Hill instead, and doubtless with different result. As it was, Gen. Schofield, late in the night, retreated up the pike through the gap in our lines which looked like it had been left expressly for his accommodation. Early next morning the army moved rapidly up the pike in pursuit of Schofield. The pike was strewn along with dead and wounded horses; quartermaster, commissary, ordinance stores, etc., scattered everywhere along the way made evident the enemy's precipitate flight.
BATTLE OF FRANKLIN.
When about four miles from Franklin, our corps was de- ployed to the right, formed in line, advanced towards Franklin, and soon struck a heavy skirmish line of the enemy. These were quickly driven through a large cornfield and skirt of wood to their defenses at Franklin. Hardly an hour before sunset Hood's army was drawn up in full view of the enemy intrenched behind two parellel lines of breastworks about one hundred and fifty yards apart. The outer line was an ordinary ditch two or two and a half feet deep; the inner line, a ditch three and a half feet deep and four feet wide with a thick and strong embankment along which were portholes for muskets and embrasures for artillery. At one point of the line in front of an old gin house there was a strong redoubt about fifty feet long, whose ditch was five feet wide and four feet deep and rampart four feet high, making eight feet from the bottom of the ditch to the top of the parapet. The space between the two armies was about six hundred yards from which all under- growth had been removed, leaving a park of a few large trees. The ground in our front towards the enemy was : a ravine, gradual ascent through the park to the outer line; and a level old pasture to the inner line.
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