A Journal of the American Civil War: V1-3

By Theodore P. Savas

Balanced and in-depth military coverage (all theaters, North and South) in a non-partisan format with detailed notes, offering meaty, in-depth articles, original maps, photos, columns, book reviews, and indexes.

Confederate Surgeon at Fort Donelson – Pennsylvania Bucktail’s life on the skirmish line – 22nd VA Infantry – Preservation of Chattahoochee River Line

• Language: English
• Publisher: Savas Publishing
• Release date: Dec 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781954547179

Book preview

Editorial Introduction

"The Lost Files of the Army of Tennessee, an occasional column dedicated to the presentation of lost" manuscript material, marches proudly in the van of this issue of Civil War Regiments. The inaugural article within this framework is a small portion of a unique diary kept by a surgeon of the 41st Tennessee Infantry, John Kennerly Farris. Dr. Farris, a prolific record keeper and letter writer, wrote of his experiences along the freezing banks of the Cumberland River at Fort Donelson, including his frustrating attempts to reach his trapped unit, his subsequent initiation into combat, and his eventual capture.

Strategic and background commentary is ably provided by L.A. Harbor College Professor and CWR’s Associate Editor, Jim Stanbery. Taken together, the Farris — Stanbery combination relates the age-old tale of heroism and suffering by the individuals who fought the war, counterbalanced by the bungling incompetence of those in the command hierarchy. Shirley Farris Jones, Dr. Farris’ great-granddaughter, brought this lively journal to our attention, and heartily agreed to allow its use in this journal.

Time was running out for Old Joe Johnston, the Fabian-minded strategist and commander of the Confederate Army of Tennessee. If Johnston was going to dig in and fight to prevent the fall of Atlanta to William T. Sherman’s army, the last and most obvious place for a confrontation was along the Chattahoochee River. Although Johnston ostensibly prepared for a vigorous defense of the river line just west and north of Atlanta, in the end he withdrew beyond the natural barrier without being driven from it. Could he have held this line?

We have deviated somewhat from our original format to bring you a special expanded edition of The Preservation Report, which focuses solely on Johnston’s Chattahoochee River Line and the key components of that line, the Shoupade Redoubts. Designed and constructed by Johnston’s Chief of Artillery, Francis Shoup, the Shoupade earthwork was a one-of-a-kind entrenchment heretofore unknown to Civil War soldiers. Although Shoup’s brilliant defensive concept was not tested in battle, its full implementation may well have provided Johnston with his best opportunity for keeping Sherman’s legions north of the Chattahoochee River. In this exclusive article, Greg Biggs, Associate Editor of Blue & Gray Magazine, unlocks the mysteries and misconceptions of the Shoupades, and tells how the readers of Civil War Regiments can help to preserve and protect the few Shoupades that still exist.

Out of the sparsely populated wilderness area of Pennsylvania known as the Wildcat District came a rough and tumble bunch of lumbermen to fight for the Union. Officially, the regiment’s three designations were the 42nd Pennsylvania Volunteers, the 13th Pennsylvania Reserves, and the 1st Pennsylvania Rifles. Unofficially, they were known as the Bucktails, because of their proclivity for pinning deer tails on their headgear. The buck tail symbolized a hunter’s marksmanship. Indeed, it was this skill with the rifle that marked the Bucktails as skirmishers throughout their service. One Bucktail boasted that he could pierce the eye of Jeff Davis, or any other traitor, with his rifle, at a distance of 250 yards.

William J. Miller, editor of Civil War magazine and author of two Civil War titles, has penned a compelling portrait of this regiment of hard-fighting, back-woods Unionists. From the ignominy of being surprised by Stuart’s Cavalry at Catlett’s Station, to the fateful charge across Plum Run at Gettysburg — from the lazy heat of Camp Curtin to the double-edged distinction of a ranking among Fox’s Fighting 300, the story of the Bucktails is one not soon forgotten. A series of personal and poignant letters home from members of the unit concludes Miller’s article. These insightful letters from the boys in the field have not been published since hometown newspapers printed them during wartime.

Were they cowards as some would have us believe? Canadian Tom Brooks examines this question in his Many a Hard Fought Field: The 22nd Battalion Virginia Infantry. On October 1, 1864 during the Petersburg Campaign, the battalion’s controversial refusal to advance against strong enemy earthworks has stamped it with a stigma it has yet to shake off. The ramifications of this failure of command have chipped away at the fine record the 22nd Battalion carved for itself from the Seven Days’ Campaign through Chancellorsville. At the latter battle, the unit suffered over 40 percent losses, followed immediately by the devastation of McPherson’s Ridge and Pickett’s Charge. According to Brooks, a steady succession of mediocre and incompetent brigade leaders, coupled with a run of just plain bad luck, accounts for the battalion’s lackluster performance during the war’s waning months. Cowards? Perhaps not.

* * *

Our next issue marks the conclusion of Volume One, a milestone of sorts. Volume One, No. Four will contain a master index for the entire first volume (four issues), prepared by veteran Civil War indexer Lee W. Merideth, in addition to our presentation of feature articles, book reviews, and other regular inclusions. We thank you for your continued support and enthusiasm.

Theodore P. SavasDavid A. Woodbury

The Lost Files of the Army of Tennessee

A Confederate Surgeon’s View of Fort Donelson:

The Diary of John Kennerly Farris

¹

John Kennerly Farris, Sr. served the Confederacy as a doctor in Company I of the 41st Tennessee Infantry, from the beginning of the war until its end. He was born on April 18, 1836 in Franklin County, Tennessee.

The Farris family was among the earliest settlers in Franklin County. John Farris began the study of medicine under Dr. J. E. Hough of Pleasant Hill. He married Mary Elisabeth Austell on August 27, 1857 and furthered his studies in Arkansas the following year. When it appeared war was imminent, he returned to his home in Franklin County, and along with his two brothers, G. S. (Bud) and Samuel Jackson (Sam), enlisted for a period of twelve months in the Tennessee Volunteer Army on November 26, 1861. He enlisted as a private in Company I of the 41st Tennessee Infantry at Winchester, and was promoted to hospital steward on January 4, 1862. Dr. Farris was an avid record-keeper and began an accounting of his daily experiences on the day of his enlistment. After leaving Winchester, his company arrived in Nashville, where he remained until early 1862.²

During the winter of 1861-1862, the Confederate defense line west of the Appalachians stretched almost 400 miles across Kentucky. The right flank covered Cumberland Gap, with the center strategically located at Bowling Green, and the left flank anchored at Columbus, Kentucky on the Mississippi River. Dr. Farris was one man in that line, caught up in the maelstrom as it all was lost, the line giving way between January and February in the face of Union offensives, which broke it at one point after another. The most decisive rupture was Grant’s by-passing of Columbus to strike Forts Henry and Donelson, two strongholds one day’s march apart guarding, respectively, the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers where they cross the Kentucky-Tennessee border. The fall of Henry uncovered Donelson, and the fall of Donelson rendered both Columbus and Bowling Green untenable. In the aftermath, the retreating Confederate columns were forced to fall back as far as Corinth, Mississippi before they could unite to mount a counter-blow.³

The Confederate commander in the west, Albert Sidney Johnston, had his headquarters near the center of his extended line at Bowling Green. Johnston had included the river forts in the command of Episcopal Bishop and Major General Leonidas Polk, with headquarters at Columbus. Polk, engrossed in his own responsibilties on the line’s left, assigned the forts to Colonel Lloyd Tilghman, and put them out of his mind. Johnston failed to keep close tabs on the work supposedly being done under Chief Engineer Jeremy Gilmer to secure the river approaches. Consequently, on February 6, 1862, when Ulysses S. Grant’s naval flotilla steamed within range of Fort Henry, neither it nor Donelson was adequately prepared to mount a credible defense. All Tilghman could do at Henry was hold out long enough to get the bulk of his forces, mostly Tennesseeans, safely out of the works to join the garrison at Ft. Donelson.⁴

Johnston realized that Grant’s advance might outflank Bowling Green. He thus determined that Nashville was where he would make a stand, and fell back on that city along two lines. The bulk of his Bowling Green troops were under the command of Major General William J. Hardee, an 1838 West Point graduate. Hardee was to withdraw due south down the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, while troops further west at Clarksville were to be reinforced sufficiently to resist Grant while pulling back along the Cumberland River.⁵

Albert Sidney Johnston has been criticized for not grasping the priority and difficulty of this latter assignment, and in not assuming it himself or entrusting it to one of his two senior officers. In addition to Hardee, one of his subordinates was Pierre G.T. Beauregard, who had just arrived from Virginia. The Creole’s preference, however, was Leonidas Polk’s front, and he was sent there on February 12, 1862. Because Johnston viewed Buell’s army before Bowling Green as the primary threat, he did not think he could spare Hardee to oversee the Clarksville withdrawal. He also believed that his own place was with Hardee. Thus the Cumberland River front was left to John B. Floyd, Johnston’s ranking brigadier and a former U.S. Secretary of War.⁶

Unlike Beauregard, Floyd at least had come west with troops. His men consisted of four Virginia regiments, which he marched to Clarksville to join two mixed commands there made up of Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, and Alabama regiments. Brigadier General Gideon Pillow had brought six regiments down from Columbus some weeks earlier, and nine more regiments sent from Bowling Green under Brigadier General Simon B. Buckner, including Dr. Farris’ own 41st Tennessee, were also present.⁷

Pillow, who had been urging a strike on Grant’s troops as they moved overland from Henry to Donelson, reversed himself as soon as Floyd arrived, perhaps fearing that Floyd would get the credit for the attack. Instead, Pillow was sent ahead with Buckner’s force to assess the prospects at Donelson. After two days more, Pillow had persuaded Johnston — if not Floyd — that the fort was worth an all-out fight. On February 13, 1862, Floyd and his troops arrived at the Cumberland bastion, giving the Confederates a total force of some 17,500 effectives, with approximately 15,000 Union troops moving upon the fort.⁸

(Camp Cold Water, Misp. Friday Oct. 31st 1862)

"Well, Mary I have several times thought I would give you a brief history of my time at Ft. Donelson, and how I hapened to get there. Thursday, Feb. 13th 1862, I was in the City of Nashville with some 16 or 20 of our Regt. when I heard the fight