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[Written for The Sunny South.!
BATTLES
AND
CAMPAIGNS
OF THE ARMY OF
TENNESSEE.
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.
forever over both his sufferings and his hopes.
Poor fellow! He breathed his last on the
train just before we reached Augusta. The next
day all that remained of him was nailed up in a
coarse black-pine box and borne away in an
ambulance from the Wayside Hospital to a lonely
the discomforts and unrest of a crowded car.
Some slept on the benches, others on the floor,
while many poor fellows, too weary or painful
to sleep, beguiled the long hours with the never-
failing jest. I heard a poor wounded fellow
from Lee’s army ask a fellow-sutterer from the
BY COL. B. W. FROBEL.
The Causes of the Failure of the Western Campaign, wiia
an Outline of Operations in this Section, from the Battle
of Belmont to the Fall of Island No. 10—The Failure
of Bragg’s Movement in Kentucky, and the Cause—Out
line of the Military Situation at the Close of 1802—Why
the Confederates could not Prevent the Overrunning by I
the Federals of the Trans Mississippi—the Second Coil
of the Anaconda—The Battle of Murfreesboro—Retreat
of Bragg—Fall of Vicksburg-Battle of Chickamauga—
Mission Ridge—Sherman's Mississippi Expedition,
what it Meant and why it Failed—Sherman in Command
of the Army —Why Dalton was Abandoned—The Re
treat from Dalton Across the Chattahoochee—Why Mr.
Davis Removed General Johnston—Operations Around
Atlanta—Why Wheeler's Movement upon Sherman's
Rear for the Purpose of Interrupting his Communi
cations Failed—Why Atlanta was Abandoned—What
Sherman’s Occupation of Atlanta Meant—Hood’s Cam
paign into Tennessee—What was Proposed by this
Movement and why it Failed—Sherman forced by Hood s
Movement to Leave Atlanta—He Determines to March
to the Sea— Battle of Griswoldville—Defense of Macon—
March to Savannah—Siege of that City—Battleol Honey
Hill—Confederates forced to Abandon Savannah—The
Retreat into South Carolina —Defense of Augusta—Sher
man Marches Across Soutli Carolina—Burningof Colum
bia—Campaign into North Carolina—Surrender of Gen
eral Lee—Surrender of General Johnston—Wilson’s
Raid into Georgia—Fight at Columbus—Marches on
Macon—Terror of the People—News Received ol the
Armistice—Flag Sent with it to Meet Wilson—Surren
der of Macon—Its Occupation by the Federals—News of
Lincoln's Death—End of the War.
The Burial Squad taking him to his last Resting-place.
CHAPTER I.
Kingsville—An Uncomfortable St itejof Affairs-Railroad
Management—In the Car With the Horses—Fellow-
Travelers—The Wounded Boy—Death on the Cars, and
Burial—White Pond—The Ladies — Augusta — Burnt
Bridges—Left by the Train—Arrival at Macon—Capture
of Stonemau—General Cobb — He Saves Macon — Off
for Atlanta—General Bate Wounded—Arrival at At
lanta-Some Shells.
It was past midnight when the train reached
Kingsville. I bad secured a place in the con
ductor’s car, and bad slept comfortably for an
Lour or two, when a sudden bait and the ces
sation of tbe noise attendant upon a moving
train awoke me.
AA’e were to change cars here, and lound, as
was usually tbe case under our admirable sys
tem of railroad management, that five or six
hours would elapse “before it was time for tbe
next train to leave.”
There was no hotel in the place, nor any kind
of “accommodation for travelers ” that we could
discover; consequently, until the hour of de
parture, we must shift for ourselves. True,
there was a long train of cars upon a side-track,
but they were all securely fastened up. The
train which brought us had gone on, leaving
three or four forlorn individuals vainly wander
ing about iu search of some place in which to
spend tbe night. It had rained, and the plat
forms and ground were wet and slippery—poor
places to sleep—and to our further discomfort,
it commenced raining again, and with an earn
estness that gave little promise of better weather.
AVe were only soldiers, it is true, and had been
used to all kinds of discomforts and hardships;
and even now, had we believed this thing either
unavoidable or necessary, would have borne it
without a comment. But there were buildings
and empty cars there, either of which would
have furnished ample accommodation had they
been left open; hut as I said before, they were
all locked up, and not a railroad employee could
he found, even to tell us that he had “ posi’ive
orders ” to keep every car locked until five min
utes before they were to start, and could not
possibly admit a soldier into either cars or
buildings, although be should otherwise he
compelled to sleep on the wet ground or equally
wet platforms.
My fellow-travelers were fast working thorn-
selves into a very uuamiahle mood, when my
orderly, Davies, fortunately came to the rescue,
proposing that we should get into a box-car
with the horses, where he assured us we would
find excellent accommodation for the whole
party. The car was large, only one end occu
pied by the horses, while iu the other there was
a quantity of loose hay or straw. AV ith this and
our overcoats we mauaged to arrange comtorta-
hle beds, and in a short time surly and unac
commodating officials ot all kinds were forgot-
ten. .
The sun was shining bright when we awoke
from what had proved a very refreshing sleep.
It yet lacked an hour or more of the time when
the train for Augusta would leave; so we set
about hunting a breakfast. Nothing iu that
line could be found at the station; hut we for
tunately had with us a haversack, in which
there was some cold bacon and bread, and a tew
hard-boiled eggs. These, with a cup of water
from the railroad taDk, made up a meal, such
as it was, seldom the good fortune of a soldier
to enjoy in those days, especially it he was a
Confederate soldier. . ,
About eight o’clock, two trains arrived, each
with a great crowd of passengers, bound lor the
road over which we were to travel. In a lew
minutes,every car was crammed to excess, borne
were seated on the floor; others in the aisles
and on the platforms, while not a few, clamber
ing to the tops of the cars, spread their blankets
and laid down, seemingly quite comfortable.
Most of the new arrivals were soldiers, on the
wav to join their respective commands, eithei
It Charleston or Atlanta, while others were from
that gallant hand which, under the immortal
Tee was struggling against overwhelming num
bers in the bloody trenches around Petersburg,
r» li. E of it. »«*-. s £
1,0,1 lost both an arm and a leg, but still ue
.poke with cooii “““ °£w
spared, reason had iled^eavi & beardl * s8
than an idiot, wh £ fearful wound in
youth, almost a boy, with a t
hi. breast, talkerl of the t,m«, »b» *
»». -.0. more h<l£So-£.d
rades, and again pallid cheek and
the f °told Plainly thit Death had already
en eye told but a few brief
P could elapse before the grave would close
corner in the public burying-ground. No one
followed the ambulance save the burial detail
and a single comrade, who had accompanied
him from the army, and was “taking him
home,” as he said to me. As the little, unno
ticed procc-sion passed us on the street, we too
followed. Silently they bore him to his little
shallow grave. Not a word was spoken; not a
prayer was said, hut they laid him down, and
the only sounds which broko the stillness were
the sobs of his comrade, and the cold, dead
echo of the clods as they fell upon his coffin.
They had “taken him home,” and in silence
we hurried away and left him there.
Our route lay through South Carolina, and at
two p.m. the train halted at a little village,AVhite
Pond, where we found a bountiful repast pre
pared for the soldiers. Those who were able to
leave the train were invited to go to the tables
and help themselves, while parties of ladies en
tered the cars with baskets of provisions for the
sick and wounded. It was beautiful to see how
the faces of these poor dejected fellows would
brighten at this evidence of sympathy and in
terest, and to witness with what feelings of grat
itude their dim and sunken eyes would follow
these sisters of mercy as they moved about min
AVestern army how they were getting on in his
department.
“Ob, very well,” was the reply, “we do a
great deal better since they issue us a handful
of nails with our rations.”
“Nails? AA’ell, what is that for?”
“ AVhy, you see,” said the fellow, our meat
was kinder lively, and when we put it on to cook
some of it always crawled away. Now, we just
nail it to the skillet and tkar it is.”
This sally was met with a burst of laughter.
| The A'irginia army man was not to he outdone.
| Said he, after a pause:
“ Have you heard the news from our army ?”
“No,” said the other. “ AA’hat news?”
i “ AVhy, they are going to make General Lee a
I field marshal.”
“And what is that for?” was asked by the
\ AVestern man.
I “Yon see,” said the other, “that Nassau
bacon they are giving ns is so strong that unless
: thev promote old marse Boh, it will be sure to
! out rank him.”
The next day we reached Augusta, and learned
that the Georgia railroad, the direct road from
j Augusta to Atlanta, was in the hands of the
| enemy. The left of Sherman’s army rested on
Where Stonemau Avas Captured.
istering to the wants of our weary sufferers. I
noticed one poor fellow who was badly wounded
lying upon some straw in one of the hunks of
the hospital car. As the ladies passed on, a tear
stole down his cheek which he hastily brushed
away, as if ashamed of the weakness. Ho was a
hard, rough-looking fellow, with a countenance
upon every line of which was stamped dogged
resolution and stolid indifference—such men as
brave death without visible emotion, endure the
privations of camps, tlie sufferings of the hos
pital and the horrors of prison without a mur- ,
mnr, and yet kindness moved him. Such men :
were common in our ranks. I knew one a cap
tain in one of the regiments of our brigade. '
He was looked upon as a very reckless, des- |
perate fellow. No one was apparently freer |
from personal emotion of any kind than he, and
the reputation of his indifference upon this
point was wide-spread. One day, while on the
march, we passed through a small rural hamlet.
Near one of the dwellings a nurse stood holding
a little girl some two or three years old in her
arms. The captain approached the nurse, took
the child and kissed it several times and then
moved on. Everv one near noticed his emotion
and wondered at it. Before night we had come
it at Decatur, while a portion of his cavalry held
it as far as Y r ellow River, the bridge over which
had been destroyed. Stoneman, we also learned,
had burned a bridge on the Central road over
the Oconee, thus breaking all railroad commu
nication with Atlanta. Of Stoneman and his
daring raid nothing had been heard for several
days, "beyond the fact that he had destroyed
some of the bridges of the Central Railroad,
had seriously threatened the capital of the State
having approached within sight ot it—and could
have captured and destroyed it had he known
its defenceless condition.
Many feared that this raid might yet suddenly
descend upon Augusta, which was also without
a fortification or a garrison. Indeed, there were
no works of any kind about the place except
some wet ditches which, in caseot attack, would
be of no kind of use, and could scarcely claim
the appellation of “defences.”
Augusta was at that time a place of vast im
portance to tlie Confederacy; for, besides its
splendid arsenal ami powder mills under Col.
Rains, it was the principal depot for the manu
facture of clothing and other supplies for the
Department of the AVest. During the day it was
eported that the enemy’s cavalry had actually
Brigadier-General Alfred Iverson and his com
mand utterly routed and dispersed.
AA’e were detained in Augusta, being unable to
secure transportation for our horses; but this
was finally arranged, and we took cars for Ma
con, that being the only practicable route.
About daylight the next morning the train
reached the Oconee, where the bridge had been
destroyed.
When we arrived at Macon, Gen. Stoneman
had just been brought in a prisoner in the hands
of the cavalry. The fact created some excite
ment and a good deal of rejoicing, for, only a
day or two before, he had thrown the city into a
state of general trepidation by his sudden ap
pearance in the vicinity of AA'alnut creek. On
reaching the creek, he had at once formed line
of battle and commenced what he no doubt
thought a triumphant march upon the city.
Major-General Cobh, the commandant of the
post, had, however, been correctly informed of
his movements, and having hastily collected
such troops as he had at his disposal, and as
sisted by the citizens and convalescents from
the hospitals, who made up the greater portion
of his forces, at once marched out to meet him.
Arriving at Dunlap’s plantation, he quietly
formed his men along the edge of the woods,
and behind some fences, which were admirably
situated for the purpose, and there silently
awaited the advance. It was but a short time
before the enemy came in sight, marching rap
idly across the open ground in front of Cobb’s
position. They greatly outnumbered the Con
federates, were splendidly armed and equipped,
and as they moved gallantly on, many a heart
quailed lor the safety of Macon. These fears,
however, were of short duration. As they
neared the woods, a volley from Cobb’s little
hand of sick and wounded greeted them. They
| recoiled for a moment, hut only to advance
: again to the charge with renewed energy. An
other volley and they retired, leaving the gal
lant old General master of the field, and with
the pleasing consciousness that he had saved
Macon with its stores of public and private
property.
The next day, our horses having arrived and
there being nothing further to detain us, we
took the train for Atlanta. At short intervals
along the entire road we passed hospital after
hospital, until it seemed as if a whole army of
sick and wounded was distributed along the
route, and these increased as we neared that ill-
fated city.
About 4 i>. xi. we arrived at East Point, and
here the distant and continued booming of can
non told us that we were approaching our jour
ney’s end. At the next stopping-place we met a
long line of litters and ambulances hearing
their daily freight of wounded to the rear.
Among these was Major-General Bate, of Ten
nessee, who had just been shot through the
thigh in a sharp skirmish along his immediate
front, and from the rapid firing which still
greeted us, it evidently had not yet ended. As
j we moved on the firing continued to increase,
and numerous shells came whizzing past, some
times barely missing the train, while others ex
ploded high above us.
The Macon road enters the city through a
deep cut, which extends well down towards the
depot. The people in the vicinity availed them
selves of the shelter afforded by this cut for the
construction of bomb-proofs, as they called
them, which were merely holes dug in the bank,
and into which they retired whenever the shell
ing began. As we moved along, we saw num
bers of people, principally children, hiding in
these dens while the shot and shell went tearing-
through the adjacent houses. The Federals had
succeeded in getting the range of the railroad,
and whenever a train came in, would open fire
on it. Most of the houses near the car shed had
been completely riddled with shot, and many of
them burned by exploding missiles. Presently
the train stopped, and we had any amount of
trouble getting our horses oft' of it. Davis
fumed and fretted, hut it did no kind r f good.
There was no such thing as hurrying anybody
ahout that matter, and the more Davis fumed
the slower they moved and the less seemed the
chances of success. Train-hands loafed about
the platforms chatting with their acquaintances,
and, as the firing had ceased, that kind of thing
was quite comfortable. But suddenly the Fed
eral guns opened; solid shot and shells went
screaming overhead, and occasionally one would
crash through a house or explode in an adjacent
street. Presently one came thundering through
the roof of the car-shed, and its explosion sent
the smoke curling along the platforms. Train-
hands jumped to their work. The baggage was
soon discharged, the horses landed and the
train hacked rapidly up the road. It was getting
rather warm in those quarters, and they did not
wait for further urging. That shell furnished
the argument.
(These articles will be continued from
| the first of February.)
pared for you, O Death! neither to meet my
Creator.”
Death arose from his seat, and said:
“ Young man, you have stated your case and
condition fairly and with good reasons; I will
leave this time without you; bnt mark me well,
I will return at some future day, hut will hear
no reasons—you must then go. But before I
come again; I will send you three messengers,
and each will tell you that I am coming—take
care that you heed them.”
“I will! I will!” exclaimed the young man,
“and thank you for your kindness in now go
ing, and your generous consideration in send
ing me notice.”
lime rolled on. The young man grew to
middle age, and in time old age came upon him.
His life had been a success so far as to the ac
cumulation of wealth and its comforts and
luxuries. Affluence, happiness, children and
grandchildren had blessed his declining years.
One pleasant evening, sitting at his ease and
comfort in his elegant home, with a little grand
son playing about him, he heard a ring at the
door-bell. Too old and ^tiff to go to the door,
he called to the visitor to come in. In stepped
Death.
“ AVhat!” exclaimed the old man, “come so
soon ?”
“Yes,” answered Death, who, eyeing his old
acquaintance, added: “I have come for you, as
I promised.”
“ Promised !” said the old man. “Yes, you
promised to send me three messengers before you
yourself would come in person, and I have not
seen one of them,”
“I sent them,” said Death, “and if you did
not heed them, it was not my fault.”
“ AA'hen did you send your messengers, for I
have not the faintest recollection of their com
ing?” rejoined the old man.”
“ I sent them,” answered Death; “ and if they
came quietly and gently reminded you in looks
i iind by touches, you should have heeded their
: silent hut yet expressive admonitions.”
“Explain yourself,” said the old man; “ for I
do not understand. Y'ou talk in riddles or
I fables.”
“Easily enough done,” said Death. “ AVhen
I first came, you were a young man; your hair
j was as black as a raven’s wing—now it is gray,
. and your looks are thinned by age. That was
| my first messenger. Those eyes of yours were
bright and uudimmed by age; now I see you
use glasses to aid your failing sight. That was
my second messenger. That form of yours was
stout and strong, unbent by years; now you tot
ter as you walk and lean upon your cane for
support. That was my third messenger. Y'our
babe, whom I saw in your lap, has grown to
man’s estate, and is himself a father, and your
grandchildren remind you that your years have
not been few.”
“ But hear me,” said the old man, “ what you
have said is very true; hut my cares and busi
ness affairs have been so great that I have neg
lected to make preparation for so important
and serious a journey. I have made no prepar
ation to meet you, O Death, though I knew you
were coming at some future time, but not so
soon. I am not prepared to meet my Creator
and Judge just now. Give me a little more
time—just a few years more, will you not?”
“ Ah,” answered Death; “if you have failed
to attend to so great a matter for so long a time,
the fault is yours, not mine. I warned you,
hut you heeded not; you must now go, prepared
or unprepared; and the consequences he upon
your own immortal soul. Come !” and laying
his cold hand upon the old man, his soul de
parted.
Reader, how are you acting in this matter ?—
have you seen or felt the touches of any of the
messengers ?
FERSONALS.
[For The Sumiy South.]
Tlie Youii£ Man—Death-
Tliree Messengers.
Tlie
BY R. M. O.
Shelling a Train of Cars running into Atlanta.
up with the rear guard of the enemy, a sharp
skirmish ensued, and the captain was among
the first who was killed. Poor fellow ! AYe after
wards learned that he had a little child about
the age of the one he kissed, in his far-off home,
and he was no donht thinking of her.
The road was very rough, and the train moved
on slowly and wearily. Night came, and with it
appeared near Briar creek, a small stream flow
ing a few miles west of the city, and had burned
the bridge. They did not, however, advance
further, as they might have done with safety,
but retired across the country in the direction
of Thompson, and the next day we learned, to
our infinite relief, that Stoneman had been cap
tured by a portion of AVheeler’s cavalry under
One evening, says the allegory, a young man
was sitting in his little cottage talking with his
wife as to their future. He was poor as to
money, hut had the wealth of a good and strong
constitution, and able and willing hands to
work. He was blest with a good mind, and full
of energy and industry. Sitting in his lap was
his little son, who had not yet numbered his
first twelve months. The young mother was
busy with her needle.
Just then a knock was heard at the door, and
a cordial and free invitation given to come in.
A neighbor, thought the young couple. But
much to their alarm, in walked Death. Fixing
his eye upon the young man, he said, in an au
thoritative manner:
“Young man, I have come for you, and shall
make you a citizen of my silent kingdom-”
“Have mercy!” exclaimed the young man.
“You have mistaken the house; you certainly
must have come for my old and rich neighbor,
whom you have permitted to journey on life’s
course over his three score miles and ten. Go,
take him, and spare me !”
“I make no mistakes,” answered Death; “I
came for you. I respect neither age, circum
stances nor conditions. Come, go!”
Said the young man, iu the terror of despair:
“ Let me reason with you ! let me plead my
case ! hear my petition for a longer life !”
Death said:
“Speak on, and let me hear your case; I do
sometimes relent, for a season at least.”
Said the young man:
“In the first place, I think you have come too
soon for me. I have just started life; and there
you see my young wife, and here in my lap our
little babe. AVould you make her a widow so
soon, and my child fatherless?—who will take
care of them if you take me away ? Besides,
here is my little home I have just bought; my
prospects iu life are fair and inviting; would
you blight all in a moment? I am young, as
you see, strong and healthy, and I thought I
had a good many years yet ahead of me; are my
hopes to be thus soon blasted ? Let me live to
mature my plans, and see my boy grow up to
man’s estate, so that he will be able to take care
of his mother; and the last, bnt not the least,
reason I have is this: I have not made that
preparation I should have made for so import
ant a journey as you would send me on. I have
neglected my soul’s great interest, in looking at
and thinking of my temporal. I am not pre
A'anderbilt was married when he was twenty.
Queen A’ictoria will take up her abode in
Buckingham Palace in February.
General Joseph E. Johnson proposes to reside
permanently in Richmond, A'irginia.
It is thought by the Boston Post that Carl
Rosa is making Preparations to marry again.
The Florida Republican papers speak well of
Governor Drew’s cabinet appointments.
General Joseph E. Johnston has taken charge
of large insurance interests in Richmond, A'ir
ginia.
Mr. Tupper is in Boston. The old gentleman
is evidently having a good time, for which he
appears to he duly grateful.
Aunt Betsey Hendrickson, of New Haven, is
one hundred and ten years old, and a public
hall in her honor is to he given at the town hall.
It is said that Father Bollig, recently appoint
ed to the office of custos, or guardian, of the
A’atieau Basilica, at Rome, converses in fifty-two
languages.
AVash AVarren, of Griffin, Ga., is seventy years
old. He has a young third wife and a new
baby, a girl, whom he has named Lucinda
Nancy Matilda, after the three wives.
Mrs. AVilliam B. Astor made a Christmas pres
ent of SI,000 to the Children’s Aid Society of
New York. This will clothe and send to homes
in the AV'est one hundred boys.
AA'hile Mr. Jewell was Postmaster General, it is
said, one of his daughters used her $2,500 of
“pin money ” in contributing to the support of
several poor families in AA’ashington.
Captain Jacob Frolich, of the Searcy (Ark.)
lh coni, received an interesting Christmas pres
ent in the form of a pretty little son which
weighs fourteen pounds.
Lord Saulisbury went to Constantinople at
tended by a few trifies—only four secretaries,
eight servants, and two couriers, with fifty-seven
pieces of baggage.
On New Year’s Day Governor Robinson, of
New York, and Governor A'ance, of North Caro
lina, were inaugurated, and both parties organ
ized legislatures in Louisiana.
Mr. George B. Hamilton, of Dubuque, Iowa,
is sure of enough tlour to last his family through
this winter, however the rest of us may be Jsitu-
ated. He holds, at present, 7-50,000 bushels of
wheat.
Mrs. Julia Gardner Tyler, widow of the late
ex-President Tyler, is residing at “Sherwood
Forest,” on the James river—the old ante-bellum
plantation homestead of the ex-President—
where she dispenses her hospitalities like a true
A'irginia matron.
Mr. Abe Hewitt is saved a world of trouble by
being so homely that it is said photographers
can’t take liis picture. The sunbeams stop and
gaze on him in pity, and then veil their faces
and turn away. He calculates that it saves
him three weeks’ time and ten dollars a year.
Empress Eugenie and Prince Louis called on
the Pope the other day, and were received with
royal honors. It was rather a melancholy in
terview. No sooner did the widow see the Pope
than she fell upon her knees and wept bitterly,
and it was not until after some minutes that she
yielded to the good old man’s entreaties and
permited Cardinal Bonaparte and Prince Louis
to lift her to her feet.
Ambitious young women are turning their
thoughts to other vocations than those of litera
ture, law and medicine. Miss Ellen L. FletcYer
has engaged in business as a watch-maker and
jeweler in Charleston, New Hampshire. Having
learned her trade by a three years’ apprentice
ship, she has pursued it successfully for the
past five years, doing the mechanical work with
her own skilled hands.