Prepared for the Sudden Call: A Buckeye's Final Letter Before Pickett's Mill

On May 22, 1864, Corporal Alexander Donaldson of the 49th Ohio took advantage of a quiet day in camp to compose a letter to his parents in Gilead, Ohio to alleviate their anxiety of his whereabouts. His regiment was two weeks into the Atlanta campaign but so far, the 49th Ohio had gotten off lightly.

Donaldson felt that Sherman’s army was more than a match for the Confederates, worn down by a series of retreats and attritting deserters at the rate of 150 men per day. “If they make a stand, we have sufficient force to meet them in front and flank them at the same time and with the blessing of God, we can certainly whip Johnston’s army,” he wrote confidently. “I believe this retreat is having a bad effect on their courage and their daily loss is considerable. I know of 150 deserters that came into our lines yesterday. The deserters who have come into our lines and the prisoners we have taken since this campaign commenced amount to upwards of 5,000 men; this does not include their loss of killed and wounded.”

What Donaldson did not know then was that this would be the last time he would write to his parents. A devout Christian, Donaldson ended his letter with “I do feel that I am an heir of God and a joint heir with Christ and that if the master shall call suddenly, I am prepared to go.” Five days later, he received the “sudden call” when he went into action during the Battle of Pickett’s Mill and was never seen again. His comrades later determined he was killed, but they never found his body among the carnage. Corporal Donaldson's letter originally saw publication in the August 17, 1864, edition of the Perrysburg Journal.

 

This modern view of Pickett's Mill shows what Corporal Donaldson might have seen in his final moments on earth as he and his comrades of the 49th Ohio charged against the Confederate works. Corporal William Franklin, one of Donaldson's comrades in Co. H, remembered that "as we advanced, I heart our boys say they saw white flags waving and that our men had the works. "Let us go on," they said and we did, over rocks and other obstructions that required all out courage and strength to overcome. When the battle line got to within a few feet of the Rebel breastworks, the enemy arose and opened a terrific fire of musketry into our ranks. Our men replied with great fury and for an hour at least death and destruction reigned supreme." (Image courtesy of Brad Butkovich)

In the field near Kingston, Georgia

May 22, 1864

Dear parents,

          I sent you a few pencil marks on the 20th and as we are yet in camp, I concluded to write to you again for when we start again, I may not be able to write for some time, and if I don’t write soon, don’t be uneasy on account of the delay. The 4th Army Corps has been in the advance nearly all of the time since we commenced marching and I suppose we are stopping here to allow some other troops to get in position ahead of us, and if they do drive the Rebels some, we can overtake them in one- or two-days’ marching.

          Church call has just been sounded.

          The Rebels gave us a pretty hard fight here for an hour or two and if we had had a few hours more daylight, I think we could have sent a force around them and captured those that were fighting us. It was Cleburne’s division that fought us here, and Rebel deserters say that this division is the only troops that are truly loyal to the South and the only troops that Rebel officers can trust without a guard to watch them. Atlanta is nearly 60 miles from here and the Rebels will not be likely to make much of a stand this side of that place and maybe not there, but the probability is that they will.

Colonel William H. Gibson
49th OVI

I believe this retreat is having a bad effect on their courage and their daily loss is considerable. I know of 150 deserters that came into our lines yesterday. The deserters who have come into our lines and the prisoners we have taken since this campaign commenced amount to upwards of 5,000 men; this does not include their loss of killed and wounded. This time the Rebs have not been able to mass a larger army than we have as they have three corps and we have seven. Sherman has at least 120,000 men under his command and I believe his force is but little if any short of 140,000. We have good evidence for believing the Rebel force does not exceed 50,000 and we don’t think it amounts to that, but they represent it as consisting of 75,000-80,000 men. If they make a stand, we have sufficient force to meet them in front and flank them at the same time and with the blessing of God, we can certainly whip Johnston’s army.

          The Rebel officers tell all sorts of stories to induce the men to fight, but the men have learned that many of their stories are falsehoods and consequently all do not believe their yarns. A few evenings since a dispatch was read to them purporting to come from General Lee’s adjutant stating that Lee had whipped Grant badly, had taken 40,000 prisoners, captured 31 general officers, and demoralized his army so badly that he would hardly be able to make another stand. You will realize under these circumstances there is not much sympathy between the men and their officers, and according to the statements of deserters, such is the case. They say they are sorry to see their comrades fall but to them the loss of officers is no cause of grief. [To learn about this topic, click here to read “Getting Out of the Scrape: Rebel Deserters in the Atlanta Campaign.”]

          Our marching has been easy, not hard enough to make us tired; indeed, we would be healthier marching as we have done than we would be in camp, yet it is pleasant to stop two or three days and have the opportunity to wash and men our clothes, write letters, etc. We expect to start again tomorrow morning, but don’t know where we shall go to; Colonel William Gibson thinks we may go to Lynchburg, Virginia and if we do, we will probably find it as hot weather there as we have here.

          I am fat as a bear and hearty as a buffalo, but when clad in all the panoply of war, climbing these Georgia hills makes me feel wheezy. Wheat is out in head in this country and the inhabitants have been farming quite largely, but I guess the crops won’t do them as much good as they desired. I do feel that I am an heir of God and a joint heir with Christ and that if the master shall call suddenly, I am prepared to go. 

Your son,

A.P.D.

 

Corps badge of the Second Division, 4th Army Corps

Five days after writing this letter, Corporal Donaldson was killed in action fighting against troops of Cleburne’s division at the Battle of Pickett’s Mill, Georgia. To learn more about that engagement, click here to read “Inside the Crime of Pickett’s Mill: Voice from the 49th Ohio.” In commemoration of Corporal Donaldson, Ira T. Owens composed the following lines which saw publication with Donaldson’s final letter.

 

Adieu, dear friend, no longer here,

Shalt thou be filled with anxious care?

Thou art gone, and with the blest,

Thy happy spirit is at rest.

 

Rest, soldier, rest, thy warfare’s o’er,

No more will hear the cannon’s roar,

Thy voice is hushed, thy spirits fled,

For thou art numbered with the dead.

 

Friends will drop affection’s tears,

The lapse of months or lapse of years,

Shall not banish from the mind,

Thy many acts of love so kind.

 

For his country’s flag his life he gave,

He is now sleeping in an honored grave,

His friends and comrades speak his name,

Forever honored by his name.

 

The noble hero patriot fell,

His work is done, he did it well.

No more at the bugles call he’ll come,

Or march to the music of the drum.

 

When war is o’er and victory won,

We’ll think of thee, the absent one.

In years to come when once again,

Sweet peace shall universal reign.

 

Alexander’s work is done,

He rests in peace; his race is run.

Whilst many a heart with grief overflows,

Naught can disturb his sweet repose.

 

The grave now hides thee from our view,

Adieu, dear friend, a long adieu.

Till we shall meet where all is peace,

For war shall there forever cease.

 

Ah! How bad the thought to those,

Fond friends at home, ah yes, who knows,

The depth of sorrow hearts must feel.

Buy you alone the wound can heal.

 

We hope at last when life is o’er,

That we shall meet to part no more.

Where all our sorrows shall be past,

And heaven will be our home at last.

 

Source:

Letter from Corporal Alexander P. Donaldson, Co. H, 49th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Perrysburg Journal (Ohio), August 17, 1864, pg. 3

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