Dixie Betrayed (34 page)

The armies of Sherman and Johnston contrasted starkly to those of the east. They were largely made up of western and midwestern
men, many of whom were rough, rugged characters. “With regard to the general appearance of the Westerners, it is not so different
from our own as I had supposed, but certain it is that discipline is most astonishingly lax,” wrote Federal staff officer
John Chipman Gray that summer.
⁸
Despite their lack of discipline, the Yankees continued moving south. Johnston next dug in along the Chattahoochie River,
where again Sherman turned his line, forcing a withdrawal to Peachtree Creek, two miles farther south and on the outskirts
of Atlanta, on July 9. For a week Sherman prepared for a major, coordinated movement across the river. Meanwhile, Jefferson
Davis had reached the limits of his tolerance with Joe Johnston, whose repeated movements southward initiated a near panic
in the Confederate capital. The replacement for Johnston, assigned on July 17, was Lt. Gen. John Bell Hood, the veteran of
many battles that, among other things, left him without his right leg (lost at Chickamauga) and the use of his left arm (at
Gettysburg). Now he would attempt to defend the heart of the rail system supporting the Deep South.

In the battle of Peachtree Creek on July 20, Hood attacked and suffered heavy casualties. He then backed into the defenses
of Atlanta. The battle of Atlanta, during which McPherson was killed, resulted two days later—as Sherman believed Hood was
withdrawing from the city. By July 28 Maj. Gen. Oliver O. Howard, who replaced McPherson, pushed northwestward around the
city and toward Ezra Church, two miles west of the city’s edge, where he attempted, unsuccessfully, to cut the rail lines
and isolate the Confederates. A detachment of cavalry left on a mission to free Union prisoners at Andersonville far to the
south but was captured. Sherman finally advanced on August 26, and Hood’s groggy response led to the battle of Jonesboro,
south of the city, between August 30 and September 1. Hood pulled out of Atlanta in the late afternoon of September 1, when
Federal troops marched into the city, escorting civilians out of the area and converting Atlanta into a fortified supply camp.
“You cannot qualify war in harsher terms than I will,” Sherman wrote Atlanta’s mayor, James M. Calhoun, on September 12. “War
is cruelty, and you cannot refine it. . . . You might as well appeal against the thunder-storm as against these terrible hardships
of war.”
⁹
Hood moved his troops northward into the first phase of what would become a campaign of pure folly.

E
LSEWHERE,
a variety of land and naval actions were under way. On June 10 at Brice’s Crossroads, Mississippi, north of Tupelo, Confederate
cavalry great Nathan Bedford Forrest, now a major general, defeated Federal Maj. Gen. Samuel D. Sturgis’s force of 7,800 with
less than half as many soldiers. The war touched Europe on June 19, when off the coast of Cherbourg, France, the USS
Kearsarge
sank the CSS
Alabama,
the notorious raider that had sunk, burned, or captured sixty-nine ships. In the Shenandoah Valley on June 23, Confederate
Maj. Gen. Jubal A. Early began a raid that would bring the terror of war to the outskirts of Washington. Early was checked
by Maj. Gen. Lew Wallace along the Monocacy River near Frederick, Maryland, on July 9. Although this battle stopped his advance
only briefly, it allowed the Union defenses of Washington to tighten. On July 11 and 12 Early made his closest pass to the
capital when he skirmished at Fort Stevens, a battle briefly witnessed by President Lincoln.

The focus, however, remained on the Petersburg defense lines, where the tedium of trench warfare ground on. “I have only one
earthly want,” Robert E. Lee wrote his son Custis, “that God in His infinite mercy will send our enemies back to their homes.”
¹⁰
Grant had no such idea, however. The frustrating stalemate led to a novel idea from a regiment of Pennsylvania coal miners—to
tunnel underneath the Confederate works, pack the tunnel with black powder, and blow a breach in the line so troops could
rush through to victory. Lt. Col. Henry Pleasants of the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania Infantry received permission to proceed
with the plan, and by July 23 a shaft measuring 511 feet long extended to a position some 20 feet below the Confederate line.
Federal soldiers placed about four tons of black powder—roughly 320 kegs—into the mine adit. Confederates had detected the
tunneling operation and constructed a smaller countermine, but they had no indication of the impending explosion. At 4:45
a.m. on July 30, the powder exploded, forming a crater 170 feet long, 80 feet wide, and 30 feet deep. Nine companies of Confederate
soldiers were hurled into the air, and some 278 soldiers were killed instantly. In the ensuing melee Union soldiers became
mired in the debris rather than pushing forward, and two officers commanding the attack, Brig. Gens. Edward Ferrero and James
H. Ledlie, cowered in a bombproof, drinking liquor. It was one of the great disasters of the war. After the smoke, the destruction,
and the death, nothing had changed—the Petersburg siege continued.

F
AR
to the southwest, near Mobile, Alabama, a Federal naval force commanded by Rear Adm. David G. Farragut prepared to cut off
one of the Confederacy’s remaining major ports. In addition to his flagship, USS
Hartford,
Farragut’s force consisted of four monitors and thirteen wooden ships. He faced the ironclad ram CSS
Tennessee
and three gunboats, the CSS
Morgan,
CSS
Gaines,
and CSS
Selma,
commanded by Adm. Franklin Buchanan. At 6 a.m. on August 5, Farragut attacked, attempting to run the guns of the nearby forts.
The heavy guns of Fort Morgan opened fire on Farragut’s fleet slightly more than an hour later. After more than half an hour
of intense action, Farragut’s lead ship, the USS
Tecumseh,
struck a torpedo (naval mine) and sank. At this point Farragut allegedly stated, “Damn the torpedoes—full speed ahead!”
¹¹
He pressed through, pushed the
Tennessee
into surrender, and captured the imaginations of Northerners as another Union hero.

I
N
Richmond, meanwhile, the Second Congress of the Confederate States of America had convened on May 2. The first session was
brief, lasting only until June 14. Despite his sagging relationship with Congress, President Davis attempted to put the best
spin on the events that were bearing down on the capital. With Grant’s forces on the march toward the city, he wrote, “The
recent events of the war are highly creditable to our troops. . . . The armies in northern Georgia and in northern Virginia
still oppose with unshaken front a formidable barrier to the progress of the invader, and our generals, armies, and people
are animated by cheerful confidence.”
¹²

Two days later, with Yankees in the neighborhood, the Richmond Tocsin on Capitol Square rang loudly, and members of Congress
were thrown into a “patriotic ebullition” that had much in common with near panic. Some wanted to rush to the front to join
the fight in the Wilderness. Others wanted to evacuate Richmond and move the entire government to a place of safety. Legislators
introduced a flurry of resolutions, amendments, and joint agreements. Members resolved that Congress should form a Congressional
Company and take to the field; that Congress should do nothing so as not to alarm the public; that they should formally declare
that there was absolutely no danger. Others in Congress pressed for an official explanation that the ringing of the Tocsin
did not signal peace, safety, and security; for an exemption of those over fifty from service (which would have included many
congressmen); or for an admission that success in the defense of Richmond would depend on everyone—“This is no time for balderdash
and jest!” one member snapped. Still others took the floor to suggest that there was no time to refer any response to the
Military Affairs Committee, which would only delay any action, or that Congress should rely on the president to tell it what
it should do.

In the cacophony some proposed that members should volunteer in various units, affording a great example but not risking the
danger of wholesale capture. Others suggested that no member had the right to place his usefulness to his constituency in
danger, that Congress should at least defend Richmond as a body and set a good example for the whole country, and that volunteering
to fight with the army would mean a virtual dissolution of the government. At last one member declared that since the members
of Congress had shown themselves to be sufficiently patriotic, they should table these resolutions and return to other work.
This, finally, was what happened—as the Tocsin continued to ring.
¹³

The next day Louis Wigfall treated his fellow senators to a tantrum. With Grant bearing down on Richmond, and with “relatively
little business” to transact in committee, several senators thought a day for the session’s adjournment ought to be set. Robert
Johnson of Arkansas pushed the point. “During a campaign like the present,” he said, “the whole attention of the President
should be free to be devoted to military affairs.” Wigfall objected. He had read the papers, but did “not care whether the
President thinks there is much for Congress to do or not. The President is not charged with deciding the question what Congress
has to do, but Congress itself is.” Wigfall ranted that “ours is the only army in the world, civilized or savage, that does
not have an inspector general . . . [or] a pay department. . . . The habeas corpus law also demands our attention.” He added
in a scream, “If Congress has a fault, it is its constant haste to adjourn.”
¹⁴

Other politician-generals were much more in control of their emotions, regardless of the dangers. “The feeling is prevalent
here that peace is at hand,” Lawrence Keitt wrote his wife. “If Lee crushes Grant I know that it is.”
¹⁵
A week after that letter, however, Keitt was struck down on the battlefield near Gaines’s Mill. “I was with [Keitt] all the
time not otherwise engaged from the time I heard of his wound until he died,” wrote A. S. Talley, a surgeon.

From the field, he was taken to a house near by, where I found him. . . . I told him he was very dangerously wounded but I
hoped not mortally. He asked me if there were as many chances for as against him. I told him I thought then the chances were
equal. He was in very great pain was pale and extremely prostrated. I gave him whiskey and morphine. . . . I asked him if
he had any message to leave with me. He remained silent for a moment, and then said with a tear from his right eye, which
was up, “My two children and my wife.” I do not think he spoke after these words. He died quietly.
¹⁶

In the Senate the Braxton Bragg matter would not die. On May 25 James Orr of South Carolina opposed a bill for an additional
salary for Bragg while he was charged with military operations in Richmond. Orr despised Bragg, saying the office was “superfluous,
and that Bragg is incompetent for the position.” Debate followed, with Edward Sparrow defending the assignment as having been
made by Davis, while Wigfall said the two least qualified Confederate generals were Bragg and Pemberton, both of whom were
now stationed in Richmond. Sparrow declared the bill needed to be acted on, whether the adviser was Bragg or Lee. Orr said
he saw Bragg in person for the first time “a week ago, and concluded that he has neither the head nor the heart to lead our
armies to victory.”
¹⁷
Consideration of the bill was postponed.

The next day the matter arose again. Wigfall felt it his duty to say he could not vote for the bill. “The naked question .
. . is that there are not two men in the Confederacy more singularly unfit to command armies than Bragg and Pemberton,” he
snapped, “yet we have them both here.”
¹⁸
Nonetheless, the bill passed and provided for Bragg to be paid the same amount as a general officer commanding a separate
army in the field.

On June 10 the matter came up yet again. Wigfall introduced a bill to repeal the act that would provide a staff and clerical
force for Bragg. But with “scarcely more than a dozen members” of the Senate present, Wigfall had no hope of doing anything.
Orr agreed with Wigfall but said, “It is too late to do anything with it.” Orr ranted on, saying it was strange that the office
once filled by Lee was now filled by Bragg—“that was to this Hyperion to a satyr.” In the old United States, said Orr, there
was a parallel: “The position once filled by George Washington is now filled by Abraham Lincoln.”
¹⁹

Beating on Bragg—and by association, Davis—was not Congress’s only activity during this stressful time, however. As the armies
grappled in the Wilderness, Wigfall also introduced his fellow senators to a resolution of his own to suspend habeas corpus
during time of invasion. Now, what Davis had wanted for so long, Wigfall wanted for himself. The proposed bill also asserted
that “State courts, being established by State authority, can in no manner be affected by Confederate legislation” and that
“State and Confederate governments are separate, distinct, and co-ordinate governments.” Trying to have it all ways at once,
it also stated the Constitution of the Confederate States is a “compact” of the states between them and is “equally supreme
and binding to [citizens] as their State Constitution.”
²⁰
On May 11, 1864, Wigfall’s resolution was tabled—yet another piece of proposed legislation that sucked up time and went nowhere.

Vampirelike, two days later, the subject came up again. In the Senate Albert Brown of Mississippi shared resolutions of the
Mississippi legislature, asking Congress to vote for a bill repealing the act to enable suspending habeas corpus. “The people
at home have raised the howl that ‘our liberty is in danger,’” said Brown. However, he proclaimed: “I will stand by the president
in his heroic efforts to drive back the invaders.”
²¹
On May 16 Henry Chambers of Mississippi declared it inexpedient to repeal the act suspending the writ of habeas corpus. But
Burgess Gaither of North Carolina said the whole matter should be delayed because of the immediate danger to the capital.
The whole subject was—surprise, surprise—postponed.
²²