by Sam Watkins
5. This was apparently the case in October, but by early November Maney's brigade was moved from Cheatham's division to one led by Major General William Walker that was on Missionary Ridge. Apparently it was hoped that the change would disarm tensions in the ranks against Bragg. Cheatham was among those in an anti-Bragg cabal, whereas Walker was a Bragg supporter.
6. After the defeat at Chickamauga on September 20, 1863, General Rosecrans's federal army retreated into Chattanooga, where it was placed under siege by the Confederate army. Only about one-fourth of Bragg's army besieged Chattanooga from Lookout Mountain. The rest was deployed as pictured in the “Battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge” map, along Chattanooga Creek and Missionary Ridge.
Reinforcements for the Union army were sent from Vicksburg, Mississippi, and Manassas, Virginia. Sherman started from Vicksburg on September 22, 1863, and “Fighting Joe” Hooker left Manassas on September 25, 1863. Ulysses Grant replaced Rosecrans as the Chattanooga commander on October 23, 1863. By mid-November, Hooker and Sherman had arrived, giving Grant fifty-six thousand troops with which to oppose Bragg's forty-six thousand.
Grant first directed Hooker to attack Lookout Mountain on November 24, 1863. It was so successful that Hooker was able to also sweep the Rebels out of entrenchments along Chattanooga Creek to reach the south end of Bragg's position on Missionary Ridge, where he could attack Bragg on the Rebel left flank. The next day, Sherman was ordered to attack Missionary Ridge from the right flank, but he made no progress. Despite being outnumbered four-to-one over seven hours of attacks, Confederate General Patrick Cleburne's division steadily frustrated Sherman.
Finally, Grant directed General Thomas to attack the rifle pits along the base of Missionary Ridge at the center of the Confederate line. But the troops spontaneously continued to the top of the ridge, where together with Hooker's attack on the south flank, they swept Bragg from his defensive position and won the day for Grant. While his soldiers were moving up the ridge, Grant was appalled because he expected a repulse as disastrous as Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg. Several witnesses heard him mutter that if the attack failed, someone was going to pay for it because he did not authorize it.
7. If Watkins found himself near a tunnel “where two railroads cross each other” it is likely he was on, or near, Missionary Ridge instead of Lookout Mountain as he stated earlier. Such a location is consistent with the “Battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge” map, which places Walker's division near the north end of Missionary Ridge and distant from Lookout Mountain.
8. Watkins misspells the name of General Zachariah Deas.
9. Manigault's brigade was not on Lookout Mountain. From his vantage point on Missionary Ridge, Sam was presumably able to view the fight for Lookout Mountain on November 24, but misidentified the applicable brigades.
10. This is a reference to a poem about Lord Nelson's victory over Napoleon at the Battle of the Nile in 1798. Casabianca was a twelve-year-old French boy whose warship was set hopelessly aflame during the battle. Nonetheless, Casabianca was seen loyally standing at his station until the fires reached the magazine, blowing up the ship.
11. This was about the time General Thomas's corps attacked the center of the Confederate Missionary Ridge line.
12. As described, Sam's battlefield movements are confusing. He impossibly claims to have simultaneously been on picket at Tunnel Hill and Lookout Mountain. However, he somehow gets to the top of Missionary Ridge, where he sees the Confederate defense collapsing from the middle and south end of the line. Nonetheless, his description of Bragg's attempt to personally rally the routed troops is well documented by others. As illustrated in the “Battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge” map on page 121, federal General “Fighting Joe” Hooker captured Lookout Mountain on November 24, while Missionary Ridge was taken on November 25. Yet if Sam's description is taken literally, he was impossibly involved in both battles on the same day. Lookout Mountain was west of Chattanooga and Missionary Ridge was to the east.
13. As the “Union Attack on Missionary Ridge” map on page 124 illustrates, Maney's brigade was toward the north end of the Confederate position, near the point where Cleburne had beaten back seven hours of attacks by Sherman. At one point Cleburne called on Sam's regiment to support an Arkansas regiment that had nearly exhausted its ammunition. Thus, Feild is referring to his participation in Cleburne's successes against Sherman. But his estimate of two thousand prisoners is a gross exaggeration. Grant reported total “missing” at about 350. Evidently Sam was not a part of Feild's success because he was on picket duty.
14. A yellowhammer is a type of bird also sometimes called informally a flicker. It is the state bird of Alabama.
15. General Gist was a member of a prominent South Carolina family. His father-in-law, James Adams, was a former governor, as was cousin William Gist. A loyal slave, Wiley Howard, attended Gist until the general was killed at the battle of Franklin, Tennessee, in November 1864. Wiley removed the general's body from a field hospital and had it buried under a big cedar tree on the lawn of William White. The body was later disinterred and buried in South Carolina.
16. Sam's statement that Missionary Ridge was the first defeat stems from the fact that it was the first time his army was driven from a battlefield in disorder. Thus it was undeniably a defeat. Sam could rationalize other losses like Shiloh and Perryville as tactical draws since the Confederates left in good order.
17. After Chickamauga, Longstreet wanted a command of his own in order to avoid serving under Bragg. Since he was a leading corps commander in Robert E. Lee's army, he felt he deserved independent command in the less-prestigious western theater. It is true that Jefferson Davis urged that Longstreet be sent to capture Knoxville, which was occupied by a twelve-thousand-man army under General Ambrose Burnside. Capturing Knoxville would restore rail connections between Virginia and Chattanooga. It would also provide an opportunity for a small army in southwest Virginia to join Bragg. The choice of Longstreet for the Knoxville operation would also partially placate Lee, who wanted him back before the next offensive by Union armies in Virginia. If Longstreet could take Knoxville, his troops could be sent to Lee almost as easily as returning to Chattanooga.
18. The cavalry was “sent off” in an effort to disrupt supplies to the northern army besieged in Chattanooga.
19. Lucius Polk was the nephew of Lieutenant General Leonidas Polk.
20. Walker was Sam's new division commander.
21. Watkins exaggerates federal casualties: they were actually under a thousand, compared to a couple of hundred Rebels. However, the twelve thousand pursuing Union troops under General Hooker were taken by surprise at the defense of four thousand Confederates under Cleburne, who would come to be known as the “Stonewall of the West.” Watkins is correct in noting that Cleburne's rear guard at Ringgold Gap stopped the federal pursuit and likely saved the Army of Tennessee.
22. This is not the same Tunnel Hill at the battle of Missionary Ridge, but is farther southeast, near Dalton, Georgia. Sam's narrative will refer to it again.
ELEVEN
DALTON
GENERAL JOSEPH E.JOHNSTON
General Joseph E. Johnston now took command of the army.1 General Bragg was relieved, and had become Jeff Davis' war adviser at Richmond, Virginia.2 We had followed General Bragg all through this long war. We had got sorter used to his ways, but he was never popular with his troops. I felt sorry for him. Bragg's troops would have loved him, if he had allowed them to do so, for many a word was spoken in his behalf, after he had been relieved of the command. As a general I have spoken of him in these memoirs, not personally. I try to state facts, so that you may see, reader, why our cause was lost. I have no doubt that Bragg ever did what he thought was best. He was but a man, under the authority of another.
But now, allow me to introduce you to old Joe. Fancy, if you please, a man about fifty years old, rather small of stature, but firmly and compactly built, an open and hone
st countenance, and a keen but restless black eye, that seemed to read your very inmost thoughts. In his dress he was a perfect dandy. He ever wore the very finest clothes that could be obtained, carrying out in every point the dress and paraphernalia of the soldier, as adopted by the war department at Richmond, never omitting anything, even to the trappings of his horse, bridle and saddle. His hat was decorated with a star and feather, his coat with every star and embellishment, and he wore a bright new sash, big gauntlets, and silver spur. He was the very picture of a general.
But he found the army depleted by battles; and worse, yea, much worse, by desertion. The men were deserting by tens and hundreds, and I might say by thousands. The morale of the army was gone. The spirit of the soldiers was crushed, their hope gone. The future was dark and gloomy. They would not answer at roll call. Discipline had gone. A feeling of mistrust pervaded the whole army.
A trainload of provisions came into Dalton. The soldiers stopped it before it rolled into the station, burst open every car, and carried off all the bacon, meal and flour that was on board. Wild riot was the order of the day; everything was confusion, worse confounded. When the news came, like pouring oil upon the troubled waters, that General Joe E. Johnston, of Virginia, had taken command of the Army of Tennessee, men returned to their companies, order was restored, and “Richard was himself again.”3
General Johnston issued a universal amnesty to all soldiers absent without leave. Instead of a scrimp pattern of one day's rations, he ordered two days' rations to be issued, being extra for one day. He ordered tobacco and whisky to be issued twice a week. He ordered sugar and coffee and flour to be issued instead of meal. He ordered old bacon and ham to be issued instead of blue beef. He ordered new tents and marquees. He ordered his soldiers new suits of clothes, shoes and hats. In fact, there had been a revolution, sure enough. He allowed us what General Bragg had never allowed mortal man—a furlough. He gave furloughs to one-third of his army at a time, until the whole had been furloughed. A new era had dawned; a new epoch had been dated. He passed through the ranks of the common soldiers, shaking hands with every one he met. He restored the soldier's pride; he brought the manhood back to the private's bosom; he changed the order of roll-call, standing guard, drill, and such nonsense as that. The revolution was complete. He was loved, respected, admired; yea, almost worshipped by his troops. I do not believe there was a soldier in his army but would gladly have died for him. With him everything was his soldiers, and the newspapers, criticizing him at the time, said, “He would feed his soldiers if the country starved.”
We soon got proud; the blood of the old Cavaliers tingled in our veins. We did not feel that we were serfs and vagabonds. We felt that we had a home and a country worth fighting for, and, if need be, worth dying for. One regiment could whip an army, and did do it, in every instance, before the command was taken from him at Atlanta. But of this another time.
Chaplains were brought back to their regiments. Dr. C. T. Quintard4 and Rev. C. D. Elliott, and other chaplains, held divine services every Sabbath, prayer was offered every evening at retreat, and the morale of the army was better in every respect. The private soldier once more regarded himself a gentleman and a man of honor. We were willing to do and die and dare anything for our loved South, and the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy. In addition to this, General Johnston ordered his soldiers to be paid up every cent that was due them, and a bounty of fifty dollars besides. He issued an order to his troops offering promotion and a furlough for acts of gallantry and bravery on the field of battle.
The cloven foot of tyranny and oppression was not discernible in the acts of officers, from general down to corporal, as formerly. Notwithstanding all this grand transformation in our affairs, old Joe was a strict disciplinarian. Everything moved like clockwork. Men had to keep their arms and clothing in good order. The artillery was rubbed up and put in good condition. The wagons were greased, and the harness and hamstrings oiled. Extra rations were issued to Negroes who were acting as servants, a thing unprecedented before in the history of the war.
Well, old Joe was a yerker. He took all the tricks. He was a commander. He kept everything up and well in hand. His lines of battle were invulnerable. The larger his command, the easier he could handle it. When his army moved, it was a picture of battle, everything in its place, as laid down by scientific military rules. When a man was to be shot, he was shot for the crimes he had done, and not to intimidate and cow the living, and he had ten times as many shot as Bragg had. He had seventeen shot at Tunnel Hill, and a whole company at Rockyface Ridge, and two spies hung at Ringgold Gap, but they were executed for their crimes. No one knew of it except those who had to take part as executioners of the law. Instead of the whipping post, he instituted the pillory and barrel shirt. Get Brutus to whistle the barrel shirt for you. The pillory was a new-fangled concern. If you went to the guard-house of almost any regiment, you would see some poor fellow with his head and hands sticking through a board. It had the appearance of a fellow taking a running start, at an angle of forty-five degrees, with a view of bursting a board over his head, but when the board burst his head and both his hands were clamped in the burst places.
The barrel shirt brigade used to be marched on drill and parade. You could see a fellow's head and feet, and whenever one of the barrels would pass, you would hear the universal cry, “Come out of that barrel, I see your head and feet sticking out.” There might have been mortification and a disgrace in the pillory and barrel shirt business to those that had to use them, but they did not bruise and mutilate the physical man. When one of them had served out his time he was as good as new. Old Joe had greater military insight than any general of the South, not excepting even Lee.5 He was the born soldier; seemed born to command. When his army moved it moved solid. Cavalry, artillery, wagon train, and infantry stepped the same tread to the music of the march. His men were not allowed to be butchered for glory, and to have his name and a battle fought, with the number of killed and wounded, go back to Richmond for his own glory. When he fought, he fought for victory, not for glory. He could fall back right in the face of the foe as quietly and orderly as if on dress parade; and when his enemies crowded him a little too closely, he would about face and give them a terrible chastisement. He could not be taken by surprise by any flank movement of the enemy. His soldiers were to him his children. He loved them. They were never needlessly sacrificed. He was always ready to meet the attack of the enemy. When his line of battle was formed it was like a wall of granite. His adversaries knew him, and dreaded the certain death that awaited them. His troops were brave; they laughed in the face of battle. He had no rear guard to shoot down any one who ran. They couldn't run; the army was solid. The veriest coward that was ever born became a brave man and a hero under his manipulation. His troops had the utmost confidence in him, and feared no evil. They became an army of veterans, whose lines could not be broken by the armies of the world. Battle became a pastime and a pleasure, and the rattle of musketry and roar of cannon were but the music of victory and success.
COMMISSARIES
Before General Joseph E. Johnston took command of the Army of Tennessee, the soldiers were very poorly fed, it is true, but the blame was not entirely attributable to General Bragg. He issued enough and more than enough to have bountifully fed his army, but there was a lot of men in the army, generally denominated commissaries, and their “gizzards,” as well as fingers, had to be greased. There was commissary-general, then corps commissary, then division commissary, then brigade commissary, then regimental commissary, then company commissary. Now, you know were you to start a nice hindquarter of beef, which had to pass through all these hands, and every commissary take a choice steak and roast off it, there would be but little ever reach the company, and the poor man among the Johnnies had to feast like bears in winter—they had to suck their paws—but the rich Johnnies who had money could go to almost any of the gentlemen denominated commissaries (they ought to have been called cormorants)
and buy of them much nice fat beef and meal and flour and sugar and coffee and nice canvassed hams, etc. I have done it many times.
They were keeping back the rations that had been issued to the army, and lining their own pockets. But when General Johnston took command, this manipulating business played out. Rations would “spile” on their hands. Othello's occupation was gone.6
They received only one hundred and forty dollars a month then, and the high private got plenty to eat, and Mr. Cormorant quit making as much money as he had heretofore done. Were you to go to them and make complaint, they would say, “I have issued regular army rations to your company, and what is left over is mine,” and they were mighty exact about it.
DALTON
We went into winter quarters at Dalton, and remained there during the cold, bad winter of 1863–64, about four months. The usual routine of army life was carried on day by day, with not many incidents to vary the monotony of camp life. But occasionally the soldiers would engage in a snowball battle, in which generals, colonels, captains and privates all took part. They would usually divide off into two grand divisions, one line naturally becoming the attacking party, and the other the defensive. The snowballs would begin to fly hither and thither, with an occasional knock down, and sometimes an ugly wound, where some mean fellow had enclosed a rock in his snow ball. It was fun while it lasted, but after it was over the soldiers were wet, cold and uncomfortable. I have seen charges and attacks and routes and stampedes, etc., but before the thing was over, one side did not know one from the other. It was a general knock down and drag-out affair.
