The Battle of Franklin: November 30, 1864.

 

 Opdycke's Charge at Franklin (click to magnify).

 

Across two miles of open ground....

There are many moments in our nation's civil war that make me shudder with horror: dying men drinking from the bloody pond at Shiloh, the repeated futile attacks by Union troops at Fredericksburg, the fires burning the wounded at the Wilderness....if you want horror, the War Between the States has it.

But for my part, no moment in the War makes me shudder quite like the charge of the Confederate Army of Tennessee at Franklin on this day 156 years ago.  [Editor's note: I started the piece yesterday, and life intervened.]

John Bell Hood was the hard-luck commander of the hardest-luck army of the Civil War in November 1864. Courageous to a fault, and not quite as bad a tactician as many historians have claimed, his career as an army commander was undoubtedly beset by missed opportunities and misfires that could have turned defeats into shining victories. 

For the purposes here, his biggest missed opportunity had come at Spring Hill, Tennessee on November 29, 1864.

By way of background, after Sherman captured Atlanta, he tried to bring Hood's army to battle, but was frustrated by his opponent's refusal to stand still and take a shot to the skull. Eventually, Sherman hit upon the idea of the March to the Sea, living off of Georgia and driving home to the Confederacy that the War was definitively lost.

But being aware that Hood's 40,000 veterans could not be ignored entirely, he detailed George Thomas with the task of stopping Hood from wreaking havoc. He even gave him an army to do it with--with one catch.

Namely, it was scattered all across the Upper South, including the other side of the Mississippi River. One segment, John Schofield's force, was just to Hood's north, and scattered around a bit itself. Thomas gave the recall order to the troops Sherman allowed him, but it would take weeks to collect them all together at the Federal fortress city of Nashville. Hood saw his chance, and got in gear--as it turned out, a hair too slowly.

Schofield saw the danger, and started running--almost too late. 

At Spring Hill, Tennessee, the federal army was caught retreating on the road northward, a ripe target for total destruction. But for reasons which still defy explanation, the Army of Tennessee did not attack in force on November 29, and Schofield's force barely escaped north to Franklin.

When they reached Franklin, Schofield's men erected breastworks and entrenched on the south bank of the Harpeth River. Hood's reaction has been described as either peevishly-livid or merely determined, which is relevant only to the degree of responsibility for the carnage which happened next.

Hood ordered the Army of Tennessee to assault the breastworks at Franklin.

Across two miles of open ground.

Against entrenched men with rifled muskets and cannons.

Many Confederate soldiers pinned papers to their uniforms to allow the easy identification of their bodies, and one Johnny Reb yelled at a rabbit which scurried away from the charging thousands 

"Hop to it, cottontail! I'd run too if I hadn't a reputation."

 So the 20,000 went forward (Hood didn't wait for his last corps or artillery to come up before ordering the attack).

The hell of it is, it almost worked.

Union General George Wagner entrenched 2/3s of his division on a small hill a half mile in front of the main breastworks. The other third of his division was a brigade commanded by a fiery Ohian named Emerson Opdycke. He told Wagner to his face that his order was ridiculous and he wasn't going to entrench out in the open. Opdycke's men went into the breastworks and took up a reserve position.

So, despite being torn by rifled slug and screaming shell, the Confederates now had a chance: smashing into Wagner's division, they easily routed it and sent it streaming back toward the breastworks. The veterans encouraged their comrades to keep pace with the fleeing Unionists, knowing their comrades would be loath to fire on retreating brothers.

The Confederates were right, and the spearhead crashed through the breastworks and right into the middle of Franklin.

An improbable victory was at hand--and then Emerson Opdycke's brigade counterattacked.

The fighting was hand-to-hand and horrible beyond measure. Opdycke found himself using his broken revolver in melee. The shock of the counterattack, combined with the exhaustion of the Rebels, saw the latter driven back out of Franklin. But that didn't stop the Confederates from trying to storm the breastworks, which they tried to do with unquenchable heroism until darkness fell.

Over 6,200 Confederates were killed, wounded, or captured, including 6 generals killed and 7 wounded. Union casualties were barely a third of that.

Schofield retreated across the Harpeth the following day, making it to Nashville shortly thereafter.

Hood's Army was mangled beyond repair, its fighting heart mortally wounded. But Hood was resolved to continue, and the Army of Tennessee's appointment in Samarra would not be averted. 

Nashville beckoned, and the Army marched northward.