The Fall of Atlanta

by Joseph D. Ricci

By the summer of 1864, the Confederate war effort was effectively crippled. The years 1862 and 1863 came and went in tremendous fashion. Cities, such as New Orleans, Nashville, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga, important to the Confederacy’s manufacturing, supply, and political needs, fell back into Federal hands one after another. With the stakes increasingly higher and the hopes for the experiment in rebellion fading day by day, all eyes turned west to Confederate Gen. Joseph E. Johnston and his Army of Tennessee as they attempted to defend Atlanta, Georgia, from ever encroaching U.S. forces.

The “Joe Johnston Mode of Warfare,” save for the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, saw nothing but defeat and retreat from Dalton to Atlanta. Johnston’s attempt to hold the United States Army under Gen. William T. Sherman at bay and to defend crucial supply lines in and out of Atlanta had thus far been unsuccessful. A nearly eighty-mile retreat through the late spring and early summer brought Sherman and Johnston’s armies within twelve miles of the south’s last major logistical center by July 10, 1864. The operational capability to conduct warfare throughout the Confederacy faced grave danger. To lose Atlanta meant that the flow of ammunition, food, and clothing, not only to Johnston’s army, but to departments in Alabama and the Carolinas, would grind to a halt. A telegram from Johnston to Confederate President Jefferson Davis dated July 11 stated, “I strongly recommend the distribution of the U.S. prisoners, now at Andersonville, immediately,” and gave every indication that the commander of the Army of Tennessee was preparing to abandon the Confederate stronghold of Atlanta. More than the military value of Atlanta, Davis and his government hoped the city would serve an important political purpose as well. With support for the war in the north waning, Confederate leaders thought that should Atlanta remain in their hands through the November 1864 Presidential election between Abraham Lincoln and the “Peace Democrat” George McClellan, the war would come to an end and the Confederacy could survive. The writing was on the wall for Davis: keep Johnston and lose Atlanta and the war, or replace him with someone that would fight. Davis hoped that John Bell Hood, unlike his predecessor, would be the right man for the job.

On July 17, 1864, Hood assumed command of the Army of Tennessee. A West Point graduate of 1853, the twice wounded, thirty-three-year-old Hood earned a reputation as a bold and daring fighter. With his left arm in a sling and his right leg amputated just beneath the hip, Hood had little to prove in devotion to his superiors. His elevation to command also spurred morale for an army that had, for months, seemingly fallen apart. Under Johnston, while the army may not have lost men to battles, morale plummeted, and desertion rates skyrocketed. With Hood in command, at the very least, Davis could count on him to act and restabilize the army. Sherman, upon learning of Johnston’s removal, wrote in a letter to his wife, Ellen, “Hood is a new man and a fighter and must be watched Closer.” Johnston and his wife departed for Macon, Georgia and left little in terms of advice or military intelligence for the new army commander.

To say that Hood was a fighter is not to say that he was reckless. In fact, while his attacks around Atlanta came at great cost, they paled in comparison to Confederate attacks at Shiloh under Gen. Albert S. Johnston, Chickamauga under Gen. Braxton Bragg, or even Gettysburg and the Wilderness under Gen. Robert E. Lee. Historians David Coffey, Richard McMurry, and Albert Castel would all agree that Hood’s greatest fault would be trying to do too much with too little.

His first strike at Sherman came at Peachtree Creek just three days after assuming command of the army. On the morning of July 20, 1864, after reorganizing his army, Hood sent forward his three corps under Generals William Hardee, A.P. Stewart, and Benjamin Cheatham to attack Gen. George Henry Thomas’ Federal Army of the Cumberland as they crossed Peachtree Creek. Each Confederate corps was to support the other in their assault and, if successful, drive Thomas back to the Chattahoochee River. It was at Peachtree Creek that Hood first came to understand what Johnston’s tenure in command of the army had done. The army’s will to fight without earthworks for protection was almost non-existent. His soldiers believed that they could not attack or be attacked without the benefit of earthen fortifications. In his memoir, Advance and Retreat, Hood described such behavior as “worthless” and of “equal disgrace” to fleeing from the fight. That hesitance could not happen again- but it did.

Reflecting on the Battle of Peachtree Creek, Hood stated, “The failure of the 20th rendered urgent the most active measures, in order to save Atlanta.” On July 21, Hood sent Hardee’s Corps to attack Gen. James McPherson’s position just two miles away from the city center of Atlanta. After marching all night, Hardee’s Corps arrived in front of McPherson and by 1:00 PM on July 22, began their assault. While surprised, McPherson’s Corps held their position and forced Gen. William Bate’s and Gen. Hugh Mercer’s Divisions to retire in the face of heavy artillery fire. Neither Hardee’s renewed assault at 4:00 PM nor the entry of Cheatham’s Corps into the fray gave Hood the advantage. By nightfall, Hood conceded and withdrew to Atlanta’s defenses to wait for Sherman’s next move. The bold move to save the city, in what has become known as the Battle of Atlanta, cost Hood nearly 6,000 casualties.

Six days later, on July 28, Hood’s subordinate, Gen. Stephen D. Lee, flung his corps against Gen. O.O. Howard’s Federal Army of the Tennessee near Ezra Church. With the Federals occupying the position Hood desired him to take, Lee proceeded with a frontal assault on the U.S. position at Lick Skillet Road and was met with devastating results. Lee’s Corps was slaughtered by the well-aimed fire of Howard’s men. With nearly 4,000 casualties, Lee withdrew from another costly action and one that both he and Hood found deeply disturbing. “The lack of spirit manifested in this instance,” wrote Hood, “will convey just an idea of the state of the Army at this period.” His men simply lacked the will to fight. Similarly, Lee recorded, “I am convinced that if all the troops had displayed equal spirit, we would have been successful.” The psychological damage Johnston’s command dealt to this army far outweighed his material losses, a flaw that continued to be compounded by Hood. The assault at Ezra Church forced Hood’s Army to return to the maze of earthworks surrounding Atlanta and await Sherman’s next move.

Throughout the month of August, Sherman ordered his Chief of Cavalry, Gen. Judson Kilpatrick, to cut Hood’s remaining supply line, the Macon & Western Railroad. After a month-long bombardment of the city and Hood’s defenses, a frustrated Sherman realized raiding the Confederate position at Lovejoy’s Station did little in lasting material damage. For Sherman to capture Atlanta would require the full investment of his army on the south side of the city. By August 30, Sherman moved the bulk of his army to Jonesboro and prepared for the finishing thrust. Meanwhile, Gen. Hood held a late-night conference, in which he, “impressed upon Hardee” that “the fate of Atlanta” rested on his ability “to drive the Federals across Flint River.” The next afternoon, Hardee advanced on the Federal line held by Gen. John Logan’s XV Corps. Hardee’s and Lee’s Corps attacked, meeting total devastation. It was a fight in which Brig. Gen. Arthur Manigault recalled, “I never saw our men fight with so little spirit as at Jonesboro.”

On September 1, Hardee assembled his corps again on the Macon line. Further north, the line had been cut by Gen. John M. Schofield’s XXIII Corps. It was clear that the final battle for Atlanta and occupation of the last stronghold on the Macon line must swing in Hood’s favor. In Atlanta, as Hood awaited news from Hardee, he began preparations for the evacuation of the city. Lee’s Corps began to march to the southeast along the McDonough Road toward Jonesboro to rendezvous with Hardee at Lovejoy’s Station. In the city, Hood ordered his men to destroy anything that could not be taken with them to deny its use to Sherman’s fast approaching army. For miles, the low rumble of explosions could be heard as ammunition and gunpowder stores were set ablaze. The situation was near apocalyptic for Atlanta’s civilians and the Army of Tennessee. Hardee and every man of his corps understood that the battle would determine the very existence of the army. United States Gen. Jefferson C. Davis threw his XIV Corps into action and penetrated the Confederate line capturing an entire brigade but failed to capitalize on the breakthrough. That night Hardee abandoned his position and withdrew his corps to Lovejoy’s Station. The road to Atlanta was open.

Sherman, frustrated by the hesitance of his subordinates to deliver the finishing blow to Hardee, maneuvered south in pursuit of the fleeing Confederates. A message from the XX Corps’ Gen. Henry Slocum verifying Hood’s evacuation and the city’s surrender stopped Sherman in his tracks. “So, Atlanta is ours and fairly won,” wrote Sherman to Gen. Henry Halleck on September 3.

It is no exaggeration to assert that Sherman’s capture of Atlanta dealt a devastating blow to the Confederacy’s ability to wage war. The seizure and destruction of Confederate stores of food, ammunition, and clothing deprived an already strained army of desperately needed supplies. Perhaps more importantly, Sherman’s capture of Atlanta gave Lincoln a desperately needed major victory to bolster support for the war and usher in his second term.

On September 7, the Richmond Examiner proudly boasted, despite the loss of Atlanta, “The prospects of the Confederacy were never brighter than at this moment, if she deserves success and is resolved to win it.” The battle-weary Army of Tennessee spent the next three weeks harassing Sherman’s flow of supplies and recovering from the loss of Atlanta and nearly 35,000 fighting men. With little hope of defeating Sherman at Atlanta or pursuing him to the coast, Hood turned north and began his march to Nashville in one final, desperate bid to breathe the last bit of life into the dream of the Confederacy. At Franklin and Nashville those dreams, too, would be dashed.