Also see:
The Lairs and the Civil War
and
Other Lairs in the Civil War

This is Charles Washington Lair’s military life according to what historical facts I’ve pieced together.  For CW’s story, I’ll go into quite considerable detail, not in an attempt to bore you but to hopefully give you an idea of the fatigue, suspense, fear and sheer horror that Charles no doubt experienced and I hope you will bear with me.  The stories of other Lair family members will be much less detailed and hopefully less tedious for you.  As I mentioned earlier, unless some distant Lair is secretly hiding CWs autobiography, the details I’ve pieced together were lost among the Lairs generations ago, if CW even talked about what he went through.  My mother said that her grandfather, Charles Washington’s son Charles Leslie (“Less”), told her plenty of stories about all sorts of things but never once mentioned anything about CW’s war experiences.  If CW went through what I think he did, then he may not have ever talked about his experiences.  Incidentally, he was 18 years old and 5’10 ½“ tall when he served.

Before CW was attached to it, the 51st Illinois Infantry had been fairly busy in the south beginning in early 1862.  Previously they had lost small numbers of men here and there in smaller engagements, but due to some really inept and confused commanders, they took a licking at the ferocious battle of Chickamauga a year before CW joined up.  There they lost 90 men, nearly a quarter of the men in their outfit.  (Chickamauga is in NW Georgia near Chattanooga TN.)  In early September of 1864, they had fought at Atlanta, Georgia where they set a new high score for the number of casualties with 112 men killed and wounded.  After that licking, they were preparing to make camp and get a little rest when they were suddenly moved to Bridgeport, Alabama (approximately 25 miles from Chattanooga) by railway because Confederate General Hood’s army was heading their way.  After arriving at Bridgeport, the 51st marched to Chattanooga.

Running low on human cannon fodder, on October 18, 1864, 192 new men joined the 51st, CW being one of the individuals.  The new men consisted of either inexperienced greenhorns like CW or black soldiers that had previously been detailed guarding rail lines needed to supply the armies.  The black soldiers were experienced as far as military life went, but they had no experience with actual fighting.  At Chattanooga the new guys drew their arms and equipment and everyone set off for Alpine, GA, 40 miles away.  There additional new men joined the 42nd Illinois and the 64th and 65th Ohio Regiments, who were all one big happy family with the 51st.  Added up, all of the new guys doubled the number of men in that army, which as far as numbers went, was like a shot in the arm and was a good thing.

A bad thing was that all were untested in battle, as was CW.  The result was that half of the men in these regiments knew little of nothing about shooting, fighting and killing and their inexperience basically watered down the effectiveness of the remaining experienced men.

Rushed through basic training, the new guy’s military training consisted mostly of marching and they weren’t even very good at that.  A week later, they marched back to Chattanooga, making the 40 miles in two no doubt long, hard days.  Battle tested George Pratt of the 51st Illinois wrote, "When we attempted to execute any movement, we had to push them into place."  William Newlin of the 73rd Illinois recalled,

“On this return march from Alpine, quite a number of recruits of Fifty-first Illinois fell behind, 'straggled,' and no wonder, as most of them wore overcoats, and carried knapsacks packed full; one of them carried his bayonet fixed, instead of in scabbard, whereupon Corporal Lewis (who had just awakened from a short sleep at roadside, where company was resting) cried out, 'Halt, halt, you Fifty-firster; I want to know where you got your gun sharpened.’”

Apparently you didn’t march with your bayonet fixed and the new guys also over-packed and weren’t physically used to a lot of marching.

For nearly five weeks after CW joined the bunch, the 51st and the other regiments trekked through four states, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama and back to Chattanooga, doing a whole lot of walking but not seeing any action.  They were much like a retired folks bus tour that did bunch of looking but not much doing.  I don’t know if CW was thankful for the lack of action or being young and foolish, he was itching for a fight.  After three years of seeing corpses or guys missing appendages return home, I suspect that most of the enthusiasm for glory and valor the early volunteers reveled in had been replaced with a wet washrag, “Oh crap!” feeling.

After they returned to Chattanooga, they were put onto a train and shipped west.  William Newlin continued:

“Took cars for Athens, Ala., there marched for Pulaski, Tenn, about 20 miles, wading Elk River, a very swift flowing stream and waist-deep, so cold that it almost froze the blood. At Pulaski the Regiment was engaged in throwing up works and doing picket duty. On the 22d of November left Pulaski, a very cold day, and marched to Lynnville where we remained two nights and one day. On the morning of the 24th made a forced march to Columbia. It having been determined that the army was too small to hold Columbia, on the morning of the 29th the command commenced retreating to Spring Hill some ten (10) miles. The 2nd Div arrived there at 2 P.M.

They were hardly there when the enemy made his appearance in considerable force, having crossed the river above Columbia and intending to flank the small army commanded by Schofield, which they well nigh succeeded in doing.

If you want to put their troop movements into perspective, everything happened south-southwest of Nashville.  The army got onto a train at Chattanooga, rode approximately 125 miles west to Athens, Alabama, located about 12 miles south of the Tennessee line.  There they disembarked the train and marched north.  About 8 miles into Tennessee, they had to cross the Elk River to get to Pulaski, situated just on the other side of the stream.  Marching north again, it was 10 miles to Lynnville and the forced march of 21 miles put them in Columbia, TN.  From there they retreated northeast to Spring Hill, 10 miles away.  Approximately 11 miles farther northeast is Franklin, with Nashville being 25+ miles northeast of there.

Screw-ups, Egos and Blame The Other Guy

During the latter part of 1864, the 51st had bore the burden of inept leadership caused by a series of commanders with warring egos and the result being a lot of dead and wounded.  Unfortunately, the inept leadership wasn’t limited to the 51st or only to the North.  At the same time on the South, miscommunication and the failure to act upon information delivered resulted in missing an opportunity to stop the Union army in its tracks.  The rapid succession of battles at Spring Hill, Franklin and Nashville, Tennessee were an interconnected series of contradictions.  Beginning on the first day of the engagement, the operation went from a well planned, coordinated Confederate offensive that would have crushed the Union enemy, but instead never materialized and fizzled into a stumbling non-battle of simple potshots at each other.  The first day’s non-battle with very few causalities would the following day turn into the bloodiest, 5-hour slaughter of the entire war.  Screw-ups proliferated on both sides; when information of enemy movements was needed, none was delivered and when information was delivered, it was not believed or acted upon.  A Confederate offensive was intended to split the Union’s forces between those with supplies and ammunition but few troops and those with numerous men and no ammo.  Keeping the two apart would have re-supplied the South with needed war material and broken the back of the Union Army of the Ohio.  Instead, one Confederate commander failed to attack when ordered to because he feared being flanked by the enemy while another got his troops physically lost and by the time he found his way, it was too late to start the offensive.  And embarrasingly, while the Confederates slept, thousands of Union troops quietly marched past, all within eyesight of the enemy’s campfires.  And on both sides, egotistical commanders tried to one up each other when they thought victory was in sight, their sight, but threw blame at each other when failure occurred.  And then there was the Confederate Commanding General engaged in tunnel vision pursuit of victory regardless of the cost, deaf to the concerns of his subordinates and blind to the obvious.  His needless, self-inflicted slaughter of his men would later force him to resign his command, leaving in his wake a battered, depopulated, demoralized army that would never be a serious threat to the enemy thereafter.  On the north was a Major General equally myopic and equally oblivious to the concerns and warnings of his subordinates.  His resolute orders that his men stand their ground resulted in their wholesale slaughter, literally.  In the end, on both sides it was the foot soldier that paid the price in blood for their commanders’ blind determination to win no matter how high the cost.

The Battles of Spring Hill and Franklin

Confederate Major General (CMG) John Bell Hood was a bearded, aggressive but generally competent military guy with a long horse face.  He lost complete use of his left arm at Gettysburg and more recently (1863) lost his right leg at Chicamauga when a minie ball shattered the bone.  Earlier in his military career, he had made several bold if somewhat foolhardy military actions that paid off with victories and gained him a reputation as a real leader.  Lately his aggressive moves hadn’t paid off so well and his ill-advised repeated frontal assaults defending Atlanta against Union General William Tucumseh Sherman cost him a whopping 20,000 men!  The disastrous result should have given him reason to reflect upon his battle tactics, but never fear, it didn’t faze him a bit.  For all this loss of life, he gained nothing militarily and quite the opposite, had to evacuate Atlanta in a hurry on September 2, 1864, burning and destroying his own military material lest it fall into the hands of the enemy (Union).  After Hood cleared out of Atlanta, Sherman spent a few days in town to regroup and rest his troops.  No doubt wanting to regain his reputation as a great commander, Hood had the bright idea of taking his army west and attacking Union troops protecting Sherman’s supply lines in the Tennessee Valley.  These supply trains (wagon and railroad) were keeping Sherman’s army in Atlanta supplied.  Hood figured this threat would surely cause Sherman to abandon his march toward Savannah and the sea and pursue him instead.  Sherman saw things differently; with the opposing forces heading west, it was going to be a cakewalk to Savannah.  In fact, Sherman noted, "If he [Hood] will go to the Ohio River, I'll give him rations. ...my business is down south.”  This is a perfect example of two people with different agendas viewing the same situation and drawing a totally different conclusion.  Hood figured he’d be the mouse that would draw the cat away from the eat bowl while the cat (Sherman) figured why chase the mouse when he can have the eat bowl all to himself?

The area between Atlanta and Savannah was relatively intact with plenty of cotton gins, stored cotton, food and feed, infrastructure and everything that is needed to keep society, business and government humming along.  With his supply lines threatened, Sherman decided to take a very big risk; he would make it to Savannah “living off the land” while practicing “total war.”  The former meant the civilian population was going to be providing his vast army with everything they needed; food, fodder, animals, supplies, everything.  In other words, they would be robbed of anything Sherman’s army needed.  The latter, the tactic known as total war, meant that anything of value would be destroyed be it military or civilian.  Sherman was going to cut a wide swath of total devastation through Georgia on his way to Savannah, burning and destroying everything in his path.  The result would be civilians with no jobs, no place to live and nothing to eat.  Their plight would force the Confederacy into surrender.  And it worked.

At first things were going pretty well for Hood because he had the “damned Yankees” on the run.  On November 28th 1864, the 51st (CW’s outfit) along with the rest of the Army of the Ohio “retreated” north to Spring Hill, Tennessee while being pursued by the enemy.  (As a way to save face, my dad would have described that move as “advancing to the rear.”)  The Union rout had began earlier when Hood caught former West Point classmate Union Major General (UMG) John M. Schofield with his pants clear down to his ankles.  Hood had “only” 39,000 troops against Schofield’s 60,000 total, but Schofield’s problem was that half of those troops were already some distance away on their way to Nashville.  Earlier he sent his 800 supply wagons, artillery and about half the troops to Spring Hill (on the route to Nashville.)  He was 10 miles back, still in Columbia with around 7,000 men left, the rest having already headed for Spring Hill.  Unbeknownst to Schofield, in a flanking move, part of the sneaky Confederates had crossed the Elk River upstream (northwest) of town and were bearing down on Columbia with around 20,000 men.  At the same time, Hood to the east was maneuvering other troops northward into position to take the road between the two Union groups.  His plan was to outflank the boys in blue and maneuver his troops between the Union troops and their supplies.  The vital artery between men and supplies would be severed.  Just like his leg.

Throughout the night of the 29th, Schofield received a number of reports of Confederate movements, but it took until dawn before he realized his military tit was in a Confederate wringer.  I bet when he saw what was about to happen, he was pooping not just ordinary bricks, but those big old paver bricks and had probably dropped enough to pave the 10 mile pike (road) between his two groups.  Already a number of skirmishes had broken out and things were only going to get worse for Schofield.  He was greatly outnumbered, had no big guns and inadequate supplies to carry on a prolonged battle of any length.  Schofield left Columbia at 3:30 PM to join up with the supply train but before he much more than got started, was attacked at 4:00 by CMG Cleburne.  At 5:30 CMG Bates attacked the lead elements of the Union troops, but was quickly ordered to go and help Cleburne at the rear.  CMG Brown was ordered to join the fight, but he felt his flank would be unprotected and chose to disobey orders and stayed put where he was.  That was the first of many boo-boos that would occur.  At the same time, CMG Stewart was ordered to bring his men north, join the others and together they would whoop Schofield’s blue coat ass and take the road.  In yet another unexpected blunder, Stewart got himself lost and by the time he finally found his friends, it was dark and fighting in the dark would likely be disastrous.  Oops, yet another boo-boo.

Hood wasn’t none too happy that they hadn’t taken the road, but he overconfidently figured they would get a good night’s sleep and start the morning off right by whooping Schofields ass first thing.  I’m sure he figured that with his troops well rested he’d simply get the ass whooping out of the way first thing and then set down to a leisurely breakfast, no doubt consisting of grits as the main course, grits as a side dish with more grits for desert.  His decision to wait until morning may have been influnced by the fact that he had been up since 3 a.m. and was pretty throughly beat, as were his troops.  Hood had been in the saddle most of the day and riding with a limp, useless left arm and a 4 inch stub below his right hip no doubt made riding all the more strenious and difficult.  I imagine maintaining his balance was a real chore.  The soldiers had been on the move since daylight and it was 11 p.m. before everyone made it to the appointed gathering place to set up camp.  It’s unlikely they knew that Hood had already hit the sack two hours earlier.  Hood was running the show from the comfort of a nearby plantation house and not some drafty tent out in the field.  Confident that in the morning he’d rectify the day’s delays, he indulged in a large dinner, which included considerable "toasting" of alcoholic beverages in anticipation of their upcoming victory.  Exhausted and well lubed, he called it quits at 9 p.m. and went to bed.  No doubt the booze played a part, but some said that Hood’s amputated leg, or lack thereof, was causing him a lot of pain after being in the saddle most of the day.  After he polished off a bunch of laudanum (opium) to relieve the pain, there’s no way his mental faculties could have been what you could describe as “keen.”  He didn’t know it at the time, but he not immediately attacking when he had the chance was a BIG mistake for Hood, but just another boo-boo in a long line of boo-boos yet to come on both sides.

During the night both sides traded mostly harmless pot shots at each other, the 51st doing both the plinking and the ones being plinked at.  The 51st had 12 men wounded, but fortunately none killed.  It is possible CW was wounded there, but the really bad stuff was yet to come.  While the boys of the 51st were plinking at the few Confederates that weren’t sleeping, Schofield quietly led his troops past the snoozing confederates, bypassed Spring Hill and met up with his supply wagons, artillery and the rest of the troops at the town of Franklin, 12 miles north.  Schofield left just enough men behind (this included the 51st) to keep firing off a few rounds at regular intervals, making the rebs think everyone was still there.  Like trying to lead an elephant through a china shop in the dark, it’s hard to stealthily move thousands of men and Schofield’s movements did not go unnoticed by everyone.  A Confederate private woke up Hood at 2AM, reporting that he saw a Union column moving north, but Hood did nothing beyond sending a dispatch to fire on any traffic passing by.  Yet another Hood boo-boo was made.

By morning, Schofield and his men were well on their way to Franklin.  Keep in mind that with thousands of troops, the moving army was stretched out over a very long distance.  Forming the rearguard under Colonel Joseph Conrad, the 51st Illinois were the last ones out of Spring Hill, not leaving until 5 a.m. on the morning of November 30.  After shooting at Rebs all night, I’m sure their rear guard action included confusing the enemy as to where they went by dragging their tracks out with their own butts.  Shortly thereafter in Spring Hill, chirping crickets were all that met the Confederate advance, but those little guys provided no resistance whatsoever.  As could be expected, when Hood entered town and found no one left to kill, not only was he surprised, but he was absolutely furious to discover Schofield's unexpected escape.  So whose pants were down around their ankles this time?  Correction, I should say down around his one and only remaining ankle.  Had he had another leg to stand on, I bet he would have been stomping his foot with wild abandon.  After an angry “conference” (military talk for ass chewing) with his subordinate commanders where in typical CEO fashion he blamed everyone but himself for the mistakes, Hood ordered his army to repeat its yet unsuccessful “just wait till I catch you” tactic, only at Franklin this time.  I’m sure he figured he was still going to defeat those damn bluecoats, only a day later and at a different spot than previously planned.  That attitude is where Hood made the biggest boo-boo he could have ever made.  Like Captain Ahab out to get his white whale no matter what the cost, Hood was going to get those bluecoats no matter what the cost.

The advanced portion of the Union army made it to Franklin with just enough time to fortify existing trenches the rebs had dug a year earlier, located just south of town.  Anything and everything in the area was pulled down, torn down, cut down or chopped down and the resulting boards, fence rails, hedge tree limbs, wagons and even plows were piled along the trenches.  The Union army was backed against the Harpeth River on the north and while this prevented the rebs from coming around behind them, it also halted Schofield’s retreat northward.  Two bridges crossed the river, but they were damaged and were in need of repair to be usable.  While around 12,000 guys were preparing to fight south of town, others were rebuilding the bridges in preparation of moving everyone north of the river.

The Union being dug in and fortified would put Hood’s attacking men at a great tactical disadvantage, even though he had more men, around 19,000, that he could throw at them.  Something else that didn’t help Hood was the landscape south of the trenches was now barren for two miles, every tree having been chopped down and used to reinforce the trench defense.

While Schofield was in relative safety in town directing the river crossing situation, the job of defending their south flank from the rebs went to Major General George Wagner.  The main Federal defenses were shaped like a crescent moon, allowing them to keep their flanks protected.  Along this crescent Union troops were in entrenchments, affording them good protection.  A second, smaller line was formed behind the main line as back up.  Up to this point, the defensive plan sounds pretty good.  For reasons unknown to anyone but himself, Wagner positioned 12 companies of men in the shape of a “V”, 500 yards in front of the entrenchments (that’s more than ¼ mile.)  This V straddled the Columbia Pike, with cannons setting on the roadway.  However, the trailing edges of the “V” formation did not extend all the way back to the entrenchments, leaving a void between the rear flanks of the V and the entrenchment.  Not a smart move, but that decision wasn’t coming from a man with military training, it came from a political big shot that formed a state militia and appointed himself colonel.  The 300 exhausted men of the 51st Illinois hadn’t much more than gotten to Franklin when they were positioned right at the very tip of the V point, stationed to the left of the cannons, with the 15th Missouri stationed to the right of the cannons.  Not only were these two outfits the farthest away from the entrenchments that one could get, they would also be the first ones attacked.  The other 10 units were stationed on the trailing edges of the V to the rear, placing them still out in the open, but much closer to the safety of the entrenchments should retreat be necessary.

“The forward position promised disaster if not abandoned—with the posting of the 2d and 3d Brigades of Wagner's division in an open field, some three or four hundred yards in front of the center of the main line of works, with both flanks exposed, and no possible chance of saving themselves when attacked with such fury as they were shortly to be" (History of the Seventy-Third Regiment of Illinois Volunteers).

With the V formation not connected to the main defensive line, there was nothing to keep the enemy from coming around the sides and encircling them, cutting off any chance for retreat.  The poor bastards were stuck out in the middle of nowhere with nothing for protection, so they started digging trenches.  Schofield had abandoned and burned 30 wagons on the way to Franklin and the 79th Illinois found some shovels in one of the burned out wagons.  Other outfits were less lucky.  The 64th Ohio had 2 picks and 2 shovels and approximately 300 men.  They had plenty of guys willing to man the tools, but trying to dig trenches for 300 men with those tools was a lost cause.  The 51st had no luck at all because they had no digging tools whatsoever.  In desperation they dug at the ground with bayonets and knives and moved the earth with coffee cups and hands.  Obviously the protection provided by the anthills they built was minimal, if one wants to be generous in their assessment.  Meanwhile, they could look up and see the Confederate army positioning itself for their attack.  The 51st was screwed and they knew it.  The only outlet of stress for the sleep-deprived soldiers out front was their “gallows humor”, they making jokes about their dying as the enemy formed their ranks in the distance.

The fiasco at Franklin wouldn’t be forgotten for a long, long time.  According to the National Tribune, May 8, 1888,

"Wagner sat on his horse looking steadily to the front."  Henry Leaming pointed out to Wagner how the enemy lines were being developed and asked what they were expected to do if attacked. Wagner said, "Oh, they won't attack!"  Leaming was not convinced and asked his question again. Wagner responded, "Well, then, fight them until hell freezes over."

It’s obvious that Wagner was an idiot that didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation.  Most sadly, nearly everyone out front, both the troops and those in command kept expecting to be called back to the safety of the entrenchments on the main line.  I guess they assumed Wagner wasn’t foolish enough to let them be slaughtered.  And I guess they assumed wrong.

CW belonged to E Company of the 51st and his lieutenant in command was John Johnson.  Johnson later wrote, "Co. E was placed to the left of the pike, its right resting thereon. In front of us was one of those small sugar loaf hills, rounding off in all directions".  Merritt Atwater, in command of Company G of the 51st, recalled "In front of the position occupied by the 51st Illinois Infantry, at easy rifle range, was a knoll that prevented the sight of the advancing hosts of the enemy until they were close upon us." The sugar loaf provided a temporary protection but it also limited the view directly to the front of the right wing of the regiment.  Colonel Allen Buckner of the 79th Illinois, which was positioned immediately to the left (east) of the 51st, later said the order he received from Colonel Conrad was to "fix bayonets and remain as long as possible.  Our orders were to have sergeants fix bayonets and hold the men to it; thus we staid".  Captain Israel Heaps of the 27th Illinois said that as Captain Buckner passed along his line, his words were, "Captain, my orders are to hold this position at all hazards. It is a mistake, and it means the wiping out of this command, but I have no discretion in the matter."  Major Frederick Atwater of the 42nd Illinois Infantry, two regiments to the left of the 51st, later reported that he had "imperative orders to hold the very poor line of works that his men had thrown up.”  Colonel Brown of the Sixty-Fourth Ohio recalled that "every officer and soldier in the brigades knew that a mistake was being made." But, he added, "No one dared disobey an order that had not only been given but repeated."

So, CW was stuck out at the absolute very front of their line and they would be the first ones the enemy would hit.  And because of the hill ahead, they wouldn’t be able to see them until they were right upon them and anyone with a lick of sense knew they were setting ducks.  And on top of that, their sergeants were ordered to bayonet any man that tried to retreat.  If you ask me, Wagner’s plan sounded like a disaster even before the real disaster occurred.  And just as expected, when the Rebs came they ground right over them like a steamroller.  Later, Generals Wagner, Stanley, Schofield, and Cox would all point fingers at each other for the blunder.

It had taken approximately two hours for Hood to move his 19,000 troops from a long narrow marching column to a broad fighting front.  It was two miles between the Confederates and the Union troops and the entire distance was devoid of any sort of protection for them to use as cover. "The ground from the first position to the main line [was] an incline plane sloping toward the river, destitute of tree stumps, stones, fences, hillocks, or anything behind which a person could take shelter" ("Historical Memoranda of the 51st Illinois").  In addition, the Confederates had no cannons whatsoever to use against the bluecoats, unlike the enemy that had several aimed right at them.  At a staff conference, Hood laid out his plan for a frontal assault against the Federal works and asked for opinions.  For all the good it did, Major Generals Nathan B. Forrest, Franklin Cheatham, and Patrick Cleburne all advised against an attack over open fields against entrenchments and artillery.  I wonder why Hood even asked for their opinion since it was obvious he had already decided what he was going to do?

As Cleburne mounted his horse to return to his division, Hood ordered:

“General, form your division to the right of the pike, letting your left overlap the same. General Brown will form on the left with his right overlapping your left. I wish you to move on the enemy. Give orders to your men not to fire a gun until you run the Yankee skirmish line from behind the first line of works in your front, then press them and shoot them in their backs as they run to their main line; then charge the enemy works. Franklin is the key to Nashville and Nashville is the key to independence.”

Cleburn’s right was the Union’s left, meaning he was aimed directly at the 51st.  Cleburne replied, “General, I will take the works or fall in the attempt.”  Little did he know how prophetic that last statement was.

Hood had seen the folly of Wagner’s decision to place a “skirmish line” far out front of the entrenched main line.  For all the lack of foresight he had so far demonstrated, his “shoot them in their backs” would prove to be right on the money.

Before they attacked, General Cleburne had a conference with his brigade commanders.  Brigadier General Daniel Govan later said that he felt Cleburne was “greatly depressed.”  Hmm, why would that be?  Just because he knew without doubt that he was charging into a slaughter.  Cleburne emphasized Hood’s orders that the Federal works must be, “Carried by the point of the bayonet at all hazards.”  Govan saluted and said, “Well, General, few of us will ever return to Arkansas to tell the story of this battle.”  Cleburne’s reply was, “Well, Govan, if we are to die, let us die like men.”  So both men knew they were heading into a slaughter.  However, there was one optimistic person, likely the only one on the entire battlefield.  Wagner’s idiotic maneuver had General Cheatham licking his chops because he, quote: "could see that the Federal line was short and curved and I knew that we could easily cover it by going forward in line of battle by brigades. So this [formation] was made before the time to charge came".

As the Confederates were gathering in preparation to charge, on the opposite side Wagner rode out from the main works to visit his three brigade commanders.  General Opdycke and his men were marching north along the Columbia Pike toward the main entrenchments when Wagner met up with him.  Wagner ordered Opdyke to send his men to the forward line along with those of Colonel Lane and Colonel Conrad (CW’s top commander.)  When Opdyke used better judgement and refused, he and Wagner got into a genuine shouting match.  Being the same rank as Opdyke, Wagner couldn’t force him to move his men forward and I bet that burned Wagner’s butt.  Opdycke's men continued their march north to the entrenchments and took up their position there in relative safety, if there was such a thing.  When CW’s outfit saw them move rearward, their spirits initially raised as they kept waiting for the order to follow, an order that never came.  Wagner’s orders from his commanding officer Schofield were to fall back if there was a frontal assault, which was pretty obvious considering there were 19,000 rebels lining up in preparations thereof.  Instead, Wagner disobeyed orders, telling Lane’s and Conrad’s officers to, “Stand there and fight them.  If able, drive him off—if your 3000, with their sixty-minute barricades, are able to drive off his 18,000, do so.”  So, you’re outnumbered six to one and your only protection is holes dug in the dirt with coffee cups and bare hands.  I’d say the delusional Wagner was either a glory monger or he was gunning for the same white whale Hood was after.

Accounts state that it had been a beautiful Indian summer afternoon with a temperature around 45 degrees.  There was no wind and the air was perfectly still, and the sun was now low in the sky, creating a crimson red skyline.  At 4 p.m., the sun was setting in the southwest and the crescent moon rose in the southeast.  All in all, a very pleasant evening except for the 30,000 men readying themselves to kill each other.  The 19,000 Confederates began marching down the slopes toward the Union troops.  Bands started to play, no doubt to get the Confederate troops all charged up.  Had the bands known the outcome, they probably would have been playing a funeral dirge instead.

William Gist of the 26th Ohio, which was part of the “V” located behind CW, later wrote:

"The suspense and nervous strain became greater and greater as time passed and the lines of grey came nearer and nearer. We stood up part of the time and a part of the time we sat down with our guns resting on the rails or logs in front."

Joel Finney of the 57th recalled the view from west of the pike:

“Hood turned the heads of his columns right and left... massed a strong assaulting column on the Spring Hill road, and with hardly a moment's delay put all his forces in motion in the direction of the town. All this could be seen with the naked eye by every soldier in our army, and it seemed to me that the officer, high or low, who was responsible for the order that placed the two brigades in that position and left them to their fate, ought to have been shot under orders of a drumhead court martial."  Gist wrote, "Our hearts beat rapidly. We wondered why we were not moved back to the works. It was plain that someone had blundered."  John McGuire of the 51st wrote, "How well I remember the terrible suspense... Waiting and watching out in front of the main line, with the whole rebel army coming on us, hoping for an order that would take us back to the works."

By this time, the morale of the men out front had dissolved to one of hopelessness for themselves and hatred for the Generals stationed safely farther back.  From what I’ve read, a general consciousness forms among groups of soldiers.  Sometimes it causes men to fight extraordinarily and win battles they should never have been able to win.  It can also work the other way, leaving men resigned to die, which they do at the first possible opportunity.  According to Captain John Shellenberger:

“The indignation of the men grew almost into a mutiny and the swearing of those gifted in profanity exceeded all their previous efforts in that line.  Even the green drafted men could see the folly of our position, for one of them said to me, "What can our generals be thinking about in keeping us out here. We can do no good here. We are only in the way. Why don't they take us back to the breastworks?"

I can’t begin to comprehend how “green drafted” CW must have felt, but from the descriptions of the other men, I’d say hopeless and get ready to die pretty well summed it up.  If they felt they were going to die, they didn’t have to wait long for the opportunity to do so.  One of Opdyke’s men later recalled, "the rebels host coming rapidly down the hillside and sweeping across the field. Onward they came, brushing away the brigades of Lane and Conrad, which for some unknown reason were stationed in advance.”  No doubt that guy was glad his commander had a little common sense and had essentially told Wagner to go to hell.

The Union gunners (cannons) were seasoned artillerymen and knew how to kill men and lots of them.  They pared down their timed fuses and were able to accurately time the explosion of their artillery shells so that the shrapnel would explode just above the advancing Confederates.  Each exploding 3-inch artillery shell mowed down handfuls of Confederates.  An Indiana soldier in the main line described it as, “making great holes in their ranks.”

Lieutenant John Johnson, with CW’s Company E of the 51st later recalled, "The brigade was blazing away at the masses of Rebs as they marched, unfalteringly, forward."  However, Company E could not do its share, except by firing obliquely, because of the sugarloaf knoll in front of them.  Johnson doubled over, making himself as small of a target as possible and ran back along behind the lines until he found Captain Tilton, who as senior captain in the field was in command of the regiment.  Johnson asked Tilton if Company E could hold its fire until the Confederates showed themselves coming up over the knoll.  Obviously aware of the futility of their defense, Tilton ordered Johnson, "Do as you damn well please."

This gave Johnson's company an extra moment to prepare for the onslaught about to occur. "I then ordered the men to make shotguns of their muskets, by tearing off the powder, putting in the balls, each man to judge what his gun would bear."  The men frantically obeyed their lieutenant, some putting in two, some three, some four. "When the enemy's front line came up in full view, I yelled, 'Fire and aim low'. The "shotgun" blast from Company E had a staggering effect on several yards of the Confederate line.”

For the Confederates, it wasn’t much better.  Lieutenant W.D. Mintz, 5th Arkansas Infantry, remembered the fateful charge:

“We had gone but little ways when the artillery opened fire on us, which had but little effect on the line save when a bursting shell would tear its way through the ranks, the men would soon close in and make the line solid again.”

William Preston of the 33rd Alabama later recalled:

“The ground was open, shells exploding within about one thousand yards of their works and after they had opened on us with small arms the command “double-quick” was given. Then we went on a run and a continuous yell to their works... I was wounded in getting through the abatis, by the time we got to their works our ranks were so thinned that our men could not get over. Many were shot in the attempt.”

(The abatis was thorny hedge tree limbs with points sharpened on the ends of the limbs and stacked in a windrow, acting much like razor wire above a chain link fence.)  General Hiram Granbury was on foot, encouraging his Texans with his last immortal words: “Forward, men; never let it be said that Texans lag in the fight.” Shortly thereafter, a minié ball hit him in his cheek and passed through the back of his head. Granbury was found on his knees with his hands on his face the next morning, cold and dead.

General Cleburne was riding a brown mare that was shot out from under him about eighty yards from the Union entrenchments.  Given another horse, this animal was killed before Cleburne could get himself in the saddle.  Now horseless, Cleburne charged forward into the smoke waving his sword and encouraging his men.  Around fifty yards from the Union works, a minié ball struck him just below the heart and passed through his body.  He had promised Hood that he would take the works or fall in the attempt and he was a man of his word to the very end, which came unexpectedly soon.

The Union gunfire cut big gaps in the line of charging Confederates, but fellow soldiers possessing an earnest death wish quickly filled the gaps.  The 51st was overrun first, most men having time to fire only 5 or 6 shots at best.  A good soldier could load and fire 2-3 shots a minute, meaning they were overrun within a matter of two minutes or so.  That doesn’t seem very long, but when people are trying to kill you, I bet two minutes feels like an eternity.  Confederate Wiley Washburn said his company was fired upon from about 150 yards away and in response came forward double quick and in "a minute or so, we were in their works with a yell."  Hand to hand combat ensued and many men of the 51st resorted to using their muskets as clubs.  While this melee was occurring at the front of the V formation, the rest of the enemy did exactly as everyone but Wagner predicted they would do; they went around the sides of the V and came in from behind.  The Union men in the “V” were surrounded and the only thing to do was run.  Rebel John Copley of the 49th Tennessee later wrote,

"They stood their ground until we mounted the top of their works, but as we went over, part of their line of battle broke and fled, while the remainder lay down flat on their faces in the ditch to save themselves, and were either killed or captured."

Another wrote,

"As soon as we got to the outside corners [of the Federal formation], their whole line broke and ran for the next line, at least those that didn't lay down and give up. We fired as they broke and we laid many low."

Union Captain Shellenberger wrote,

"I had been glancing uneasily along our line, watching for a break as a pretext for getting out of there, and was looking towards the pike when the break first started. It ran along the line so rapidly that it reminded me of a train of powder burning. I instantly sprang to my feet."  Shellenberger said he, "gave an example of how to fall back by turning and running for the breastworks."

John Johnson of the 51st said, "I shouted to the men to get to the rear and must admit forgot to wait and see the order obeyed.  I have often thought I would like to know the distance I leaped as I went back down hill to the main line."  When Johnson ordered CW’s Company E to retreat, not all the men heard his shout above the din of gunfire and men yelling.  Nine of his men, mostly new draftees and substitutes, he said were captured before they had fairly set foot for the main line. When Johnson shouted out the order, Wiley Pilkenton played possum, playing dead while remaining prone on the ground.  He knew, he said, that the enemy soldiers, "would empty their muskets as soon as we raised up," which is exactly what happened.  After the Confederates fired at the fleeing men of Company E (killing a number of men), Pilkenton jumped up and ran.

"They shouted, 'Halt you Yankee son of a bitch, or we'll shoot you.' I knew their guns were empty and did not halt worth a damn. I tried to overtake Lieut Johnson, but the farther we ran the bigger the space between us."

Johnson may have been fast, but not fast enough to outrun a bullet because he ended up being wounded before it was all over with.

The retreating Union troops were mixed in with the advancing rebel troops, all heading for the Union troops in the entrenchments.  The boys in blue were running toward them for protection and the boys in gray were running toward them to kill them.  This homogeneous mass of running men made it impossible for the entrenched Union troops to fire at the rebs without hitting their own men.  I wonder if Wagner foresaw that fiasco happening?  The result was a mass of men hitting the entrenchments all at the same time and hand to hand fighting was the only thing anyone could do.  The Federals finally beat back the rebel hoard, which for the moment retreated back south.

General Hood being the predictable military genius that he was, then proceeded to repeatedly throw uncoordinated attacks against the dug in Federals, just like he did at Atlanta.  And who would have guessed that when using the same tactics as at Atlanta that the results would have been the same as at Atlanta?  Although they fought courageously, each time they were beaten back, leaving new dead to join the dead already littering the field.  After multiple attacks, there was a literal carpet of dead bodies.  When I visited Franklin, I learned that it was 110 yards between the Carter house and the Lotz house, both of which were in the middle of the battleground with the old Columbia Pike separating them (present day highway 31.)  The Lotz family had taken refuge in the brick Carter house and after the battle was over, they returned to their house, counting dead men, they having to step around 110 of them, one for every 3 feet.  Like I said, dead bodies literally carpeted the ground.

And to further bruise Hood’s ego, he was yet again unable to keep Schofield from advancing further to the rear, this time to Nashville.  And to add insult to injury that damned Schofield sneaked out under cover of darkness…again!  Hood’s white whale had gotten away…again.  I’m sure Hood was absolutely livid and his blood pressure could have put a hydraulic jack to shame.  Hood’s losses were devastating.  He lost 14 of his generals, 55 regimental commanders and 6,252 infantry casualties.  1,750 were killed, 3,800 wounded and 702 missing or captured.  The Union had “only” 2,326 casualties, 189 killed, 1033 wounded and 1104 missing or captured.  With the loss of so many commanders and men, Hood’s Army of Tennessee was devastated both in leadership and manpower.  After Schofield ran out, the south had control of Franklin but at an enormous cost.  When Hood weighed the capture of Franklin against his losses in men and material, I wonder if he figured it was worth it?  He captured the town, which was a little fish but the big fish (Union Army) got away.

During their retreat, the Union had to leave many of their wounded behind in Franklin.  The Lotz house, a 2-story wood framed building, was used as a hospital by both sides.  When I toured it, I could still see the dark blood stains on the beech wood plank floor.  Sobering was a horseshoe shaped light colored area on the floor surrounded by a large dark stain.  This “horseshoe” was immediately adjacent to the wall and approximately 20 inches across with the “points” extending away from the wall.  It seems the light colored area was where a man was setting while he bled profusely, staining all but where his posterior was in contact with the floor.  It didn’t matter whether the wounded man was dressed in gray or blue, his blood was still red.  After the battle, locals picked up lots of “souvenirs” from the battlefield, some of which were on display.  One was a Union belt buckle with a minie ball driven into but not through it.  The buckle no doubt saved the man’s life from that bullet although he may still have died after being riddled by bullet holes in less protected areas of his body.  History records the whole south side of the house as being blown full of holes by cannon fire.  Still visible were several deep depressions in the wood floor where cannonballs came through the wall and traveled another 10-15 feet while still possessing enough inertia to dent the floor.  While I may be able to visualize the battle and resulting carnage in human lives, in reality I’m sure the real thing would have made a slaughterhouse seem peaceful and relaxing in contrast.

The 51st left Franklin with only half the men they entered with.  52 men were killed and wounded and 98 more went missing.  No matter how you phrase it, the 51st got creamed, their plow cleaned, their asses kicked and names taken, they mopped the floor with them, and so on.  They lost 50% of their men and while their outfit made up approximately 2.5% of the total number of Federal troops engaged in fighting, their losses were a lopsided 6.4% of the total.  All thanks to Wagner’s inflated ego, idiotic battle plan and him refusing to consider the opinions of others.

Still licking its wounds and woefully short of men, at Nashville the 51st was placed in a position that had less action, although they still had 1 man killed and 5 wounded when Hood attacked.  There, while making up a bit over 1% of the fighting force, fortunately the 51st losses at Nashville were .2% of the total.

And speaking of inflated egos, idiotic battle plans and staggering losses, Hood still hadn’t had enough.  Two weeks later on December 15 –16, he again attacked the entrenched Union army at Nashville.  Proving to have worked so badly at Atlanta and Franklin, he repeated the same haphazard battle tactic that had worked so poorly in the past.  He threw company after company of men at the dug in Yankees except this time instead of losing 6,250 men and capturing a town the enemy didn’t want, he lost 6,500 men but was unable to capture the town the enemy did want.  His combined losses at both battles amounted to nearly 2/3 of the infantrymen he started with (that’s fighting men, not wagon drivers, cannoneers, etc.  It’s interesting to note that Union General Thomas (Schofield’s commander) commanded the Federal troops at Nashville.  Apparently he didn’t want either Schofield or Wagner calling any shots after their miserable performance at Franklin.  Too bad the Confederates didn’t replace Hood at the same time.  So I guess neither Wagner nor Hood ever got their whales.

After the devastating losses at Nashville, Hood’s army was effectively destroyed and it was never able to return to a fighting force for the remainder of the war; in other words, Hood’s army was totaled thanks to his reckless driving.  All by himself, Hood did what the entire Yankee army couldn’t accomplish; he turned what was a powerful, effective and feared war machine that had the Yanks on the run into a broken collection of men being chased by those they had been chasing a few weeks earlier.  After Nashville, the Union army (and the 51st) chased the retreating Hood for 11 straight days, Hood limping homeward (both figuratively and literally considering he had only one leg) with less than half the men he started with.  On December 18th, two days after victory at Nashville, the Union Army retook Franklin and repatriated all of the wounded they had left behind.

Historians usually consider the Battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania as the bloodiest Civil War battle of all in terms of the overall number of causalities.  But when you look at the casualties in relationship to the time it took to kill that number of soldiers, the Battle of Franklin was actually worse in nearly every respect.

After Hood’s repeated fiascoes that lost so many men and left the Confederacy’s western army in shambles, the entire Tennessee Valley was left open for the Union to stroll through unopposed.  Hood did the only thing Hood could do, he resigned his commission.  It may have been humbling for him but it didn’t bring back any of the thousands of dead that resulted from his actions.  I guess that was the last he ever saw of his whale.  One can only hope that both Hood and Wagner carried the weight of those lost souls on their consciences until the day they died.

What Happened to Charles Washington Lair?

After reading up on the different companies involved and where they were at, their troop movements and their engagements with the enemy, I figure it is possible CW was wounded plinking at the enemy at Spring Hill.  But the more intense hand to hand fighting and subsequent rout of the 51st at Franklin would make one think it more likely to have occurred there.  It’s possible Charles W Lair was one of the 9 “mostly new draftees and substitutes” that were captured “before they had fairly set foot for the main line.”  If so, he was likely a prisoner in Franklin for those couple of weeks, with no official record of it since there were no longer any prisoner exchanges.  The other thing is that the healthy and intact men captured were shipped to a POW camp (probably to the one in Alabama) and normally there was a record of the name of prisoners entering a camp.  However, captured but wounded Union men were left in Franklin, tended to by local townspeople.  Two and a half weeks later the Union army was back in Franklin and most likely the wounded prisoners would have been sent so the hospital described shortly.  I guess it’s also possible that he was wounded later at Nashville, but the 51st wasn’t engaged nearly as heavily there as they were at Franklin and their casualties were numerically minor.  At Nashville, the 122nd Illinois was in the thick of it, the unit that many of CW’s cousins were in.  I guess CW could have busted a tooth gnawing on hardtack sometime between any of the actual battles, but I doubt the army would have him “discharged for disability” 22 weeks later, on May 18, 1865 at Evansville, Indiana.  In the War Between the States, Evansville was an unimportant backwater river town that never saw any military action whatsoever.  However, it was the site of the Marine Hospital, a three-story brick building built in 1853 on the banks of the Ohio River.  Its original purpose was to tend to ill and injured river men, but beginning in early 1862 it was used to care for injured Union soldiers, mainly those brought back from the Tennessee Valley area.  Before the war was over, 19 temporary frame buildings had to be built around the main hospital to accommodate the staggering numbers of sick and wounded.

I’m guessing CW’s five-month-plus stay at that facility in Evansville was for getting healed up from a serious injury.  On the day he was discharged, the rest of the 51st was stationed in Nashville.  From what I can tell, he never returned to his unit, making me believe that his wounds were fairly serious, at least serious for those times.  An old newspaper clipping and a family photo shows him to have both arms and legs, so his wound(s) must have been either a flesh wound or on his torso.  It’s quite possible that he was bayoneted when the rebs overran his position or just as possible that he was shot in the back as his outfit made their mad dash for the breastworks.  The old timers always wore long sleeved shirts, even in hot weather, so it’s not possible to observe any wounds he may have had on his arms. Like I said, CW’s military career was very short, very violent and definitely lacked the romance of war that so many of the early volunteers expected.  For the record, during its existence, the 51st Illinois Infantry had 115 men killed and mortally wounded and 135 died from disease for a total of 250 men lost.  That’s close to a 1:1 ratio, way off the 1:2 ratio that was the average.

And now for a bit of trivia about the 51st Illinois Regiment.  As was normal, the regiment was made up of a number of smaller companies, each with its commanding officer, usually a Lieutenant.  Charles Washington belonged to Company E, which during its existence in the Civil War had a total of somewhere around 172 men.  It had two cooks, William Johnson and Peter Hudson.  Their service records list them as “Under Cook of A.F”, the A.F. meaning African Descent.  Even in the Union Army that was supposedly fighting to free the slaves, blacks were still distinctly separate and identified by their race.  They weren’t just a man or soldier; they were a black man or soldier.

And if anyone is interested, the big players at the battles of Franklin-Nashville had interesting, intertwined lives before, during and after the war.  And a couple of them got exactly what they had coming to them when the Grim Reaper came a-knocking.  Anyone interested in reading about it, email me and I’ll send it to you.

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