July 4, 1864: Ohio Soldiers Reflect on Independence Day

150 years ago today, the United States–a nation mired in the fourth year of a bloody Civil War–was celebrating the anniversary of its independence from Great Britain. In the ranks of the vast Union armies fighting to preserve that nation, the significance of the day did not go unnoticed.

On July 4, 1864, hundreds of thousands of Union soldiers were spread out across the Southern United States, occupying lands of the Confederacy in what was the final year of the American Civil War. Most notably, two Union commanders were on the precipice of seizing major southern cities. In Virginia, Grant was settling in near Petersburg, beginning a months long siege that would force he and his men to wait until 1865 until their goals of victory in the campaign for Richmond could be realized.

Far to the south, in the state of Georgia, William Tecumseh Sherman’s army group, consisting of the Army of the Cumberland, the Army of the Tennessee, and the Army of the Ohio, rested just miles from Kennesaw Mountain, the imposing height which had stalled Sherman for the latter half of June and the first several days of July. It had only been on the morning of July 3rd that Union soldiers discovered that Confederates had vacated their Kennesaw trenches, having been forced out by yet another flanking maneuver from Sherman. Kennesaw Mountain had been a resounding defeat for Sherman’s men, as each attacking column the Federals sent forward on the morning of June 27, 1864, was handsomely repulsed. Yet, one week later, the Confederates had retreated, and the Union soldiers who had seen their comrades slaughtered in such great number in front of the Kennesaw Line were preparing to push for the Chattahoochee River and toward Atlanta itself.

Thus, 150 years ago, Union soldiers had cause for both sadness and gratefulness, for both remorse and relief. The troubles of Kennesaw Mountain were past, yet the struggle for Atlanta lay firmly in their future.


“One year ago were in Shellbyville Tenn. Wonder next 4th will find us, or me. Enjoying the blessings of peace, I hope. Hardly think it will. One consolation, my term of service will have nearly expired. Weather very warm. A man would have been called insane three years ago, who would have prophesied that the war would last till July 1864”
O.M. Scott, Commissary Sergeant, 121st Ohio Volunteer Infantry
 
“This is a holiday to all Americans whether it will be so to us remains to be seen.”
Sgt. Israel Connell, 51st Ohio Volunteer Infantry

“We are celebrating the birthday of the Nation by firing an occasional salute on the works of the foe in our front. Company E was on the skirmish line all day, and it was very interesting. A year ago we were at Shelbyville, Tenn., and on that day Vicksburg was taken by General Grant. Where will we be July 4th, 1865?”
Francis McAdams, 113th Ohio Volunteer Infantry

“Thankful should we be to Divine Providence that our ever honored and memoriable National Birthday is thus made the more sacred by a victory over the Nation’s and Freedom’s enemies.”
Albert Champlin, 105^th Ohio Volunteer Infantry

May 7, 1864: Grant Turns South

150 years ago this evening, the American Civil War took yet another turn. After two days of bloody, chaotic, and brutal fighting in the Wilderness west of Fredericksburg, Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant faced a key decision. In the past, generals with names such as McClellan, Pope, Burnside, and Hooker had turned back after difficulties and defeats. The Wilderness had not been a total defeat, simply an impediment to Grant's southward push. Lee's Confederates had proven themselves able to deliver vicious blows into the Federal lines, leaving thousands of men in Blue and Gray bleeding among the Virginia forest, some of them burning from the fires among the leaves set by the blaze of muskets and cannon.

On the evening of May 7th, with the fires of the Wilderness still smoldering, Grant began to move. Instead of turning back to Washington to recuperate, Grant and his army turned south. The sight of Grant continuing southward sent waves of admiration through the men of the Army of the Potomac. They knew that unforeseen and unknowable difficulties and trials lay ahead. They knew that turning south meant more fighting, killing, and dying. Yet, with Grant in command, these veteran soldiers were ready to make the final push into Virginia, hoping that with this campaign, the days of the war were numbered.

The situation has been best described by the words of Bruce Catton, whose work A Stillness at Appomattox still stands as a gold standard of writing on the Civil War, or on any history topic for that matter. For myself, and for many others who have written books about the Civil War, Catton is a standard to which we always aspire to reach but will always fall short. His work shows us that history can be well written and truthful.

This army had known dramatic moments of inspiration in the past—massed flags and many bugles and broad blue ranks spread out in the sunlight, with leadership bearing a drawn sword and riding a prancing horse, and it had been grand and stirring. Now there was nothing more than a bent shadow in the night, a stoop-shouldered man who was saying nothing to anyone, methodically making his way t of the head of the column—and all of a moment the tired column came alive, and a wild cheer broke the night and men tossed their caps in the darkness.

They had had their fill of desperate fighting, and this pitiless little man was leading them into nothing except more fighting, and probably there would be no end to it, but at least he was not leading them back in sullen acceptance of defeat, and somewhere, many miles ahead, there would be victory for those who lived to see it. So there was tremendous cheering, and Grant’s big horse Cincinnati caught the excitement and reared and pranced, and as he got him under control Grant told his staff to have the men stop cheering because the Rebels were not far away and they would hear and know that a movement was being made.

It was the same on other roads. Sedgwick’s men backtracked to Chancellorsville, and as the men reached that fatal crossroads the veterans knew how the land lay and knew that if they took the left-hand fork they would be retreating and if they turned to the right they would be going on for another fight. The column turned right, and men who made the march wrote that with that turn there was a quiet relaxing of the tension and a lifting of gloom, so that men who had been slogging along quietly began to chatter as they marched. Here and there a regiment sang a little.

Back by the wagon trains one of Sedgwick’s officers came upon Burnside’s division of colored soldiers, so dust-colored the men looked white. They were heading south like everyone else, and the officer saw a big colored sergeant prodding his men on with the butt of his rifle and ordering, “close up dere, lambs.”

New Year, New Blog

Happy New Year!!


Now that it is 2014, the 150th anniversary of the Atlanta Campaign and Kennesaw Mountain is here. Because my book on Kennesaw will be out in a few months, I am starting and launching a new blog on Kennesaw Mountain and the Atlanta Campaign: www.kennesawmountain.wordpress.com.

Please check out the new site, which will have a definite focus on Kennesaw Mountain, as the title states, as well as William Tecumseh Sherman, Joseph Johnston, and the others who fought in Georgia during the summer of 1864. 


Don't worry, I will still be posting regularly on here as well, and probably posting some things on both blogs. Thanks for your comments and continuing to visit this site. I really enjoy maintaining this blog, and look forward to starting a new one in this new year!