Harvest Time at Resaca with the Orphan Brigade
Recovered from a severe head wound sustained during the Battle of Chickamauga the previous September, Captain John H. Weller of the 4th Kentucky rejoined his company in time to take part in the Battle of Resaca. The action of May 14th, 1864, matched the intensity he remembered from Chickamauga and as Weller begins the article, “the next time I get into a battle where the shape of our line is a horseshoe, I want to be on the outside.”
Weller and his
comrades in the 4th Kentucky soon found themselves under assault by
Federals from both 14th and 23rd Army Corps. “The Union
soldiers, after some delay, came tearing down the hill to the branch and pushing
through made directly for us,” Weller wrote. “It was exciting. When within
about a hundred yards, we turned loose on them and death in all its appalling
forms commenced by hundreds on the 14th of May 1864. Column after
column came down in full view and moved right toward us. Their colors were
planted within 75 yards of us once and remained for some time standing alone
toll another line came up and carried them away. Our boys all had black lips
from biting cartridges and powder-stained faces in streaks as perspiration took
a fancy to line their countenances.”
During the Battle of Resaca, the 4th Kentucky of part of General Joseph H. Lewis’s Orphan Brigade served beside the 2nd, 5th, 6th, and 9th Kentucky regiments as part of General William B. Bate’s division of William Hardee’s Corps. Captain Weller’s account of Resaca, written under his penname Fred Joyce, first saw publication in the July 1884 edition of Southern Bivouac magazine.
The next time
I get into a battle where the shape of our line is a horseshoe, I want to be on
the outside. However, I am very well contented to think I will never be in
either again. The Army of Tennessee bent around like a hot iron at Resaca, and
while the right filled their canteens from the Oostanaula, the line bulged out
and around the little town (I suppose there was a town but I never saw it) and
retired throwing the left on the same stream. The Orphans were not like hot
iron but more like steel well-tempered. Their voices and arms rung out on the May
morning like swelling chimes and the flames from the tortuous line waved like a
Damascene blade. The whole army was well-nigh invincible as a trained hero sighted
every gun.
At the break
of day our brigade formed a line on an elevation overlooking a valley and
opposite some pretty steep hills. A branch ran through the valley with bushes
on its banks. In front and to the right of us was a hill which seemed the
objective point of the enemy, for the heaviest fighting took place there. It
was about sunrise when Co. FD of the 4th Kentucky started out as
skirmishers. Bearing to the right we crossed the branch and swing our line
perpendicular to the main body, while those on our left started up the hill in
front. A halt was made, for we are now far from the regiment. Devil Dick,
Lieutenants Williams and Lecompt and Reed Caldwell want more than we were
giving them and advanced a couple hundred yards further up the valley.
Dick shot at
the first blue coat he saw and, in less time, than you can tell it, they were
busy fighting their way back to us. And before they reached us the hillside to
our left, as well as the valley in front, was swarming with Federal soldiers
and flags. It was exceedingly warm before we could get started back to our
line. We had to run through this open valley several hundred yards, and the
enemy popping away at us making a noise like a monster coffee mill. We finally
reached our position in line and found a few rails thrown up against a log house
for our protection. A company of artillery was string along the command. The
Union soldiers, after some delay, came tearing down the hill to the branch and
pushing through made directly for us. It was exciting.
When within
about a hundred yards, we turned loose on them and death in all its appalling
forms commenced by hundreds on the 14th of May 1864. Column after
column came down in full view and moved right toward us. Their colors were
planted within 75 yards of us once and remained for some time standing alone
toll another line came up and carried them away. Our boys all had black lips
from biting cartridges and powder-stained faces in streaks as perspiration took
a fancy to line their countenances.
It was harvest
time with the Orphan Brigade and every available contrivance was used for
reaping the field before us. The artillery roared and belched great clouds of
smoke which enveloped us and nearly blinded us. The enemy got onto a portion of
the little hill to the right of us and enfiladed us terribly when their people
were not charging. At the head of column four lines deep rode a splendid
looking officer on a gray horse. John Gordon of Co. D drew a bead on him but
was too anxious to make sure of his prize and sighted too long. A Minie ball
struck him full in the forehead and his corpse quietly sunk down. All day we
fought over him and crowded his lifeless form, and when night came our
much-loved messmate was laid under the sod of Georgia.
The extreme
left of the 4th Kentucky encountered an old log house and it was
hard to say which we feared most: the missiles of the enemy or the tumbling
logs. The bullets spatted against it like hail. Our gallant little corps of
sharpshooters were called into action early and were placed to our left and
about the right of the 2nd Kentucky. Their terrible rifles soon attracted
the fury of the Federal artillerymen and the little command was torn and plowed
with shot and shell till over half were killed and wounded. James T. Guilliam,
one of the bravest of the brave, emerged from this terrible spot with his right
arm hanging to his shoulder by a piece of skin and flesh, and walking back to
the surgeon unaided had it amputated without taking chloroform. He was from
Russellville and was a member of Co. I of the 4th Kentucky and was
conspicuous as a fearless sharpshooter.
In the
meantime, line after line charged is and fell back until the little branch in
front seemed to be full of men lying down under its friendly bank; they fired
incessantly with their repeating guns. Night coming on, we threw pickets a
short distance in front and addressed ourselves to the important business of
going in the ground. When daylight enabled our foe to open his batteries again,
we were deep down with 16 feet of solid clay in front of us. We peacefully laid
down in the bottom of our trenches and slept or listened dreamily to their
incessant through ineffectual cannonading and the never-ceasing popping of
their small arms.
By the second night, it was
known that they were flanking us and we commenced to undo the horseshoe, once
more stringing silently south. The open part of the shoe was so small that some
confusion took place as we entered the little brigade over the Oostanaula. But
the presence of our generals reassured us and we passed back with no fear of
the future.
“A Hot May Day at Resaca,” Captain John Henry Weller, Co. D,
4th Kentucky Infantry (C.S.A.), Southern Bivouac, July 1884,
pgs. 499-501
Would you like to walk the grounds at Resaca described
by Captain Weller? Thanks to the efforts of the Friends of Resaca Battlefield
in conjunction with the American Battlefield Trust, more than 1,000 acres of
the original battlefield have been preserved including the Confederate line
held by the Orphan Brigade to the east of Camp Creek. The Resaca Battlefield
Historic Site is operated by Gordon County Parks and Recreation Department; you
can visit their website here for trails, hours, and lots of other useful
information.
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