General George H. Thomas

AMONG all the soldiers who during the war for the Union rose to high position and won an enduring name, none better deserves or will better repay a careful study than George H. Thomas. There were in him qualities hardly to be found in any of our other generals. A certain grandeur impresses one, like that which the world loves to recognize in Washington. Others, perhaps, fought as bravely : a few as successfully. None have left more deep and lasting impression on the minds and hearts of those who served under them. Grant’s life for twenty years after the war, and especially the last year of it, has thrown a glorious glamour about his name which no man, friend or foe, now wishes to dispel. Yet when the war ended, his military operations were most severely criticised by competent and not unfriendly judges. In action his personal presence counted for little. Sheridan showed greater activity on the battlefield ; the sight of him there was always inspiring. Thomas died before his full record was made public. Only tradition and memory remained. The living presence of Grant and Sheridan and Sherman for so many years made them naturally and inevitably the dominant objects of popular regard. But in the hearts and minds of those who had followed him on the march, had seen him by the camp-fire, had gone into battle under his eye, the great figure of Thomas still stands alone, colossal, undiminished by comparison with the greatest, — a nation’s landmark.

This devotion to his name and memory has been spoken of as " an unreasonable passion which scarcely permitted criticism of anything he said or did.” To call it an unreasoning rather than an unreasonable passion would be more correct; for when analyzed it will be found entirely reasonable, though perhaps in its origin and growth unreasoning, like the passion a good and true son feels for a wise and venerated father. But his soldiers never did analyze it. It grew up insensibly and commanded their reason, as an absorbing and enduring passion always must. Now that he and all his great compeers have left us, the source of this passion may perhaps be found. Then it will be seen that it

his intellectual and moral qualities are best tested and measured.

First and foremost, General Thomas was a soldier. He never was anything else. From the day he entered the Military Academy in 1836 till he died in March, 1870, his life for thirty-four years was wholly devoted to the military profession. Most of it was spent in far-off camps and at distant posts, with no society but that of his fellowofficers and their families. The too frequent result of such a mode of life is to make one the slave of routine. Action becomes almost automatic. Hardly anything is more mechanical than mere soldiering in time of peace. Most of the older of our distinguished generals, Halleck and McClellan and Grant and Sherman and Meade, not to mention others, had been more or less in civil life. The younger, of whom Sheridan and McPherson were the type, had not yet become subdued to routine. Thomas had been in the line for twenty-one years when he was summoned to the broader activities of a great war, and to exercise the faculties of a great captain. In all that time he had been, not a mere soldier, but a man of growing power; his intellect stimulated, not repressed, by the practice of his profession. Every year gave new proofs of his increasing mental vigor. At the battle of Buena Vista, in 1847, he was called a “scientific artillerist.” In 1855 he was promoted to be major of cavalry, when he was within three of the bottom of the list among captains of artillery. This unwonted promotion was not caused by accident or intrigue. It was a just tribute to his exceptional merit. Robert E. Lee, George B. McClellan, Joseph E. Johnston, John Sedgwick, and others afterward famous, were promoted at the same time, but none so greatly advanced as he.

He had not been in the army eighteen months when he was brevetted “for gallantry and good conduct” in action, a distinction won by none of his contemporaries. In the Mexican War he was twice brevetted for the same cause, and was one of a very small number who gained so many of those marks of merit. He was afterward instructor at West Point for three years. Thence he was sent to Fort Yuma, perhaps the most undesirable post in the United States,— a veritable place of exile. Even in this unpromising field he found scope for his active and observant intellect. He studied the geology and flora of the region, the language and habits of the Indians, everything of interest in its geography and history. He investigated the navigability of the Colorado River with the view of utilizing it to supply our army in Utah. He became an expert in woodcraft. Stationed afterward in Texas, he scouted the whole northwestern frontier of that great State, adding much to our knowledge of its geography and resources.

In November, 1860, he left Texas on a year’s leave of absence granted him the preceding August, long before the political storm had burst upon the country. While so absent there came to him, as to all officers in the army, the crucial test of duty and honor. He was a Virginian, born while Madison was President, preceded by Jefferson, followed by Monroe. Marshall was still Chief Justice. All the great offices in the nation had been largely held by Virginians. The traditions of devotion to “the mother of Presidents,” which proved so commanding to Lee and Johnston and others, spoke also strongly to him. Before his leave had half expired, Virginia seceded. His regiment, surrendered to lawless insurgents in Texas, was finding its way, in squads, to New York. On the 11th of April, 1861, he was ordered to conduct its remnants to Carlisle Barracks for reorganization. Without a syllable of objection he obeyed the order, thus arraying himself indissolubly on the side of the Union. While on his way there the guns opened on Fort Sumter. On the 15th came the President’s call for seventy-five thousand men. On the 17th the Convention of Virginia in secret session adopted the ordinance of secession, and summoned all Virginians to take service for their native State. On the 20th, Robert E. Lee, recently promoted to be colonel of his regiment, offered his resignation, and without waiting for action upon it left silently for Richmond, where he at once assumed command of the insurgent forces. On the 21st, while Lee was making his secret way to the Confederacy, Thomas was lending a squadron to disperse a rebellious mob trying to help the Southern cause by destroying the railroad leading to Washington. From that day till the rebellion ended in complete overthrow, he was not absent from his post of duty a single hour.

His severance from family and State was a keen trial, but “ his duty was clear from the beginning.” To his vision there was but one country, — the United States of America. He had few or no friends at the North. Its political policy had not seemed to him to be wise. But he could serve under no flag except that which he had pledged his honor to uphold. On the 25th of April he was promoted to be lieutenant-colonel to fill the vacancy caused by Lee’s defection. On the 5th of May, Sidney Johnston having resigned, he was made colonel. In assuming both these positions he renewed his oath of allegiance; to him not a mere form but 舠a solemn pledge to the government.” On the 2d of July he crossed the Potomac at the head of a brigade, and on the soil of his native State met and put to flight a body of Virginia troops drawn up by “ Stonewall ” Jackson to contest his passage. It was the first encounter in that section between the national and the insurgent troops, and he acted with conspicuous bravery. Yet when, a month later, his appointment as brigadier-general of volunteers was urged by Robert Anderson, both the latter and Sherman had to contend against suspicions of his loyalty, so little was he known at Washington. For the fifty-four brigadiers whose appointments antedated his, among them Blenker and Sigel and Prentiss and McClernand, there were sponsors in Congress or elsewhere. Thomas had no representative. Only his army service could speak for him, and they who best knew it had already joined the Confederacy.

Immediately on his appointment he was ordered to Kentucky, reporting there on the 6th of September to General Robert Anderson, the department commander. His first duty was to organize and discipline a camp composed chiefly of refugees from East Tennessee and the mountain counties of Kentucky. In a military point of view, it was work of the most primitive character. Much of it might better have been done by a competent drill sergeant. But it was a good lesson. He soon learned, and had respect and sympathy for, the eager patriotism and the cruel experiences of these undisciplined but unshaken sons of the wilderness. They, in turn, learned to trust him with confidence unsurpassed. By the middle of October he had mustered into service five Kentucky and two Tennessee organizations. With the addition of seven others, he made ready for his anticipated expedition into East Tennessee. Various causes first delayed and finally prevented the execution of his plan. But the abandonment of that undertaking did not lessen his labors. Other and more serious work awaited him. On the 19th of January, 1862, in the early twilight of a rainy winter morning, his advance forces, consisting of four regiments of infantry and one of cavalry, were unexpectedly attacked by a body of the enemy nearly twice as large. At first his troops yielded a little ground; but from the moment he reached the front there was no more wavering. After several hours of stubborn fighting he ordered a charge. The result was decisive. By ten o’clock, the whole rebel division was in disorderly retreat, with the loss of its commander and three hundred and fifty men. His victorious regiments kept up the pursuit till night. In the darkness the remnant escaped across the river, only to renew the flight which ended almost in the dissolution of the command that had set forth to surprise and defeat him.

This battle of Mill Spring was one of the most successful during the war. It was the first ray of light after the dark disasters of Bull Run and Ball’s Bluff and Belmont. In it General Thomas showed the instincts and the adaptability of a great captain. At the critical moment he changed his course from defensive to offensive. By a well-ordered charge at the instant when the enemy was shaken by the loss of its commander, he turned what seemed only a momentary repulse into a disorganized rout. This overwhelming defeat prevented the intended advance of the Confederate army to the very banks of the Ohio, with the panic consequent on such invasion. But the only personal advantage he gained was experience and confidence. No official recognition came. Promotion then, when he had so nobly earned it, would have made him the senior major-general of volunteers, — except the four already appointed from civil life, — and would have immediately opened to him the way to larger commands, for which he was so amply fitted, and which so sadly needed men like him.

During the rest of that year his services were arduous and continuous ; but they afforded little scope for the exercise of his skill as a commander in battle, the final test of a soldier’s quality. He was not present at Shiloh. But, on the march from Shiloh to Corinth, he was ordered by Halleck to supersede Grant as commander of the right wing, — a slight Grant never forgot. After the occupation of Corinth he returned, at his own request, to the command of his old division in the army under Buell. After almost incredible hardships in the mountain region of Tennessee, he marched at its head to Louisville, Ky., in pursuit of the rebel army under Bragg, then threatening the Ohio River. Ordered by the War Department to supersede Buell, he telegraphed to Washington, “ General Buell’s preparations have been completed to move against the enemy, and I therefore respectfully ask that he may be retained in command.” His request was granted. The indecisive battle of Perryville was fought on the 8th of October, followed by the hurried retreat of the enemy back to Tennessee. Buell was a second time relieved. But, instead of Thomas being placed in command, General Rosecrans was summoned from the brilliant defense of Corinth to the vacated position. So for a year longer Thomas remained a subordinate. Soon after Rosecrans assumed command, Thomas sent him the outline of a plan of campaign, designed to place the Union army on the line of the Tennessee River before winter set in or Bragg could advance. The plan was not then adopted; but six months later, when the army moved, it followed substantially the route thus marked out.

As commander of the “ centre,” — afterward the 14th Army Corps, of five divisions,—Thomas held fast the critical point at the fierce battle of Stone’s River, December 31, 1862. The right was swept from the field, the left threatened with disaster. With two divisions, a little over 10,000 men, he maintained his ground, beating back every assault. He lost over twenty-five per cent. of the number engaged. A few days later the enemy retreated. 舠 True and prudent; distinguished in council and on many a battlefield for his courage,” were the words in which he was described by his gallant commander, General Rosecrans, who that day showed peculiar gallantry. They feebly express the renewed admiration and confidence of his devoted soldiers.

Perhaps the most signal illustration of defensive battle during the war for the Union was that given by General Thomas at Chickamauga. He had already rescued his corps, isolated by mountain ranges from the rest of the army, from imminent peril of capture or defeat. By wearisome marches day and night he had placed it in front of the enemy’s right, urgently striving to gain the road to Chattanooga, the one line of safety for the Union army. Here, on the 19th of September, he held his own against repeated attacks. A night of almost sleepless anxiety followed, and again the gigantic struggle was renewed. About noon of the 20th, the whole right wing of the Union army was swept from the field, involving in its disastrous flight the commanders of two corps, of several divisions, and even the army commander himself. This terrible calamity left Thomas with only the remnants of six divisions and two brigades, out of ten full divisions with which the battle had begun. Ignorant of the catastrophe, he learned it only by finding the enemy where he had looked for reënforcements. Opposed to him were eleven divisions, flushed with unexpected success. Among them were two of the best divisions from Lee’s Virginia army, commanded by McLaws and Hood, and led by Longstreet. Against such odds and in face of such untoward disasters, he steadfastly held his ground throughout the long afternoon, repelling assault after assault, made each time with fresh troops on his own tired and diminishing lines. As night came on and his ammunition was reduced to two or three rounds a man, he led in person an audacious attack, breaking through the hostile lines, and scattering his enemy in confusion, bringing away guns and prisoners. Then, under orders from his commander in Chattanooga, he fell slowly back to Rossville unmolested, and there all the next day awaited the attack which was never delivered.

History justly celebrates the heroism of great commanders who, against overwhelming odds, and in the face of sudden reverses, keep an unbroken front, maintain their courage and self-control, or deal counterblows which neutralize the force of the disaster, — Cromwell with his Ironsides redeeming the day at Marston Moor; Napoleon with the help of Desaix recovering the field after it had been lost; Wellington grimly holding his own while waiting for “night or Blücher ; ” Sheridan reorganizing his divisions after the morning disaster, and leading them to victory. But what other instance is there of a subordinate — after his commander, deeming the day lost, has been swept from the field in the mass of retreating regiments — holding his ground, with little more than half the original force, for six long hours against the repeated onslaughts of fresh troops double his own in number, and at last inflicting such damage on his enemy that pursuit was impossible ? Thomas’s defense on that immortal day stands by itself.

As a consequence of this battle, he was now given the command which a year before he had declined. The honor brought him no special gratification. The duties now imposed upon him were extremely difficult and embarrassing. Besides, he was placed under a general whom, when last met, he had superseded under circumstances which left bitter memories. Moreover, the chance of keeping his hold on Chattanooga was by no means encouraging, as shown by his first reply to Grant’s anxious inquiry: “ I will hold the town till we starve.” Out of this unpromising condition he was soon raised by the arrival of reënforcements ; and on the 25th of November, by the bold and self-ordered assault on Missionary Ridge, his long beleaguered and distrusted army won forever the gateway to Georgia and the Southern sea.

How large a share of the spirit which led to this desperate and successful assault was due to General Thomas’s influence is a complex question. No other soldiers had ever done anything like it. Whence came that self-confidence which, after two months of virtual imprisonment almost to the verge of starvation, impelled these men to undertake that tremendous enterprise ? Whence, if not from that inflexible, unyielding, neverfailing will, whose operations were almost as one of the forces of nature ? — the same spirit which had impelled them to hold fast at Stone’s River and Chickamauga, and now inspired them to resistless action at Missionary Ridge. An army soon becomes the very reflection of its commander. “ The storming of the Ridge was one of the greatest miracles in military history. . . . The generals caught the inspiration of the men and were ready themselves to undertake impossibilities.” So, early the next morning, wrote the assistant Secretary of War, who saw the whole sublime spectacle.

Thus far in the conduct of the great campaigns in the West, Thomas had held far greater responsibilities than Sherman,— had commanded larger armies, had taken leading part in more battles, had achieved far more important results, and had been always successful. A comparison of their careers clearly shows this. Thomas also held the superior rank. Yet when Grant, as Lieutenant-General, was called to the command of all the armies, Sherman was selected, through his recommendation, to succeed him as commander of the Military Division of the Mississippi. It was natural that he should thus favor his brilliant subordinate ; but it was a real and public misfortune that a portion, at least, of the friendship and confidence he entertained for Sherman was not displayed toward Thomas.

In the Atlanta campaign Thomas commanded two thirds of the grand army operating under Sherman. Throughout, save on one unfortunate occasion, he bore the brunt of the battle. Had his advice been early taken, it is probable the result would have been more decisive. The only successful assault made in that campaign was at Jonesboro, on the 1st of September, when Thomas’s old corps, the 14th, — to quote Sherman’s own words, — 舠 swept forward over some old cotton-fields, and went over the rebel parapet, handsomely capturing a brigade and ten guns.”

Soon after the occupation of the abandoned city, Thomas was sent, with two divisions, back to Tennessee to repel a mere raid of Forrest. Once there, he was ordered to remain, to guard the railroad line between Nashville and Chattanooga. This was the reward of his labors during four months of almost constant battle. His old army was divided among strangers. He himself was not consulted concerning any of its future operations, and was banished to the rear as supervisor of communications. But when, a month later, Hood, having outwitted and outmarched Sherman, appeared unexpectedly on the banks of the Tennessee, the presence and power of Thomas were quickly revealed. As Sherman with sixty-two thousand men,— the pick of nearly double that number, 舠 able-bodied, well-armed, provided with all the essentials of life, strength, and vigorous action舡 — was marching out of Atlanta to go through the heart of Georgia where was not an organized brigade to oppose him, on Thomas, with twentyfive thousand men, —the remnants of the two smallest corps, including “ all dismounted cavalry, all sick and wounded,” — was thrown the burden of meeting and overcoming the one remaining army on which rested the hopes of the Confederacy in the Southwest. For a month the situation was most precarious. The narrow escape at Columbia, the hazardous peril at Spring Hill, the bloody encounter at Franklin, were followed by the appearance in front of Nashville, early in December, of the army which since May had thwarted all Sherman’s efforts, and now, reënforced by Forrest’s cavalry, was determined to recover all that had cost such untold labor. So anxious became the general-in-chief over the unexpected and dangerous condition in which Sherman had involved him, that he visited his impatience on Thomas, ordering him to be relieved, first by Schofield, then by Logan ; and finally started himself for the scene of operations. It was a natural but needless apprehension. The army under Thomas had not a moment of doubt about the success of their chief. On the 15th and 16th of December was fought a battle, as carefully planned and as successfully executed as any during the war. When, on the afternoon of December 16th, the Confederate army with its overthrown leader was driven from its formidable works, a mere disorganized mob, the very foundations of that corner of the Confederacy were crumbled to dust. This crowning victory was Thomas’s ample vindication. With an army little superior in number to its adversary, he achieved a success so overwhelming that the hostile force and its commander were eliminated from any further influence on the fortunes of the war. The seeker after contrasts in history may find one by reading the account of contemporaneous operations before Savannah, including the correspondence between Sherman and Hardee, and reflecting upon the relative numbers and results.

This unprecedented victory relieved General Thomas of any further work in the field. His triumphant army was soon scattered. One corps went to North Carolina, where its commander received Johnston’s final surrender ; another moved on Mobile, and aided in reducing that stronghold ; a third was exiled to Texas, where under Sheridan it helped shorten the rule of imperialism in Mexico, in addition to maintaining law and order in the distracted State ; while the cavalry, under Wilson, made its resistless way through Alabama and Georgia, ending with the capture of Jefferson Davis.

The pursuit had not ended when, on Christmas Eve, the Secretary of War at last gave long-delayed expression to the national feeling in the notification to General Thomas of his nomination as major-general in the regular army, adding to the formal announcement: “ No official duty has been performed by me with more satisfaction, and no commander has more justly earned promotion by devoted, disinterested, and valuable services to his country.舠 This late recognition completed the list of his official honors. He had now received a commission for every grade in the service, from second lieutenant to majorgeneral. Congress also soon after thanked him for his “ skill and dauntless courage.” The redeemed State of Tennessee presented him a gold medal, and adopted him as one of its citizens.

He had the fortune, almost alone among army commanders who came in contact with Andrew Johnson, to enjoy the good will of that singular man. When the latter, as President of the United States, was in the height of his controversy with General Grant, he tried to win General Thomas to his side by a piece of strategic flattery which with most men would have been successful. He nominated the great soldier to the Senate for the brevet rank of general, with a view to assignment to duty with that rank over the head of Grant. But the offer did not even rise to the dignity of a temptation. In a letter which is a standing rebuke to all similar self-seeking, Thomas wrote : “ I have done no service since the war to deserve so high a compliment; and it is now too late to be regarded as a compliment if conferred for service during the war.” So was crushed that intended conspiracy.

Now that his labors were no longer needed in the field, Thomas gave himself with all zeal to the restoration of civil administration. In the troublous era of reconstruction, he stood as a bulwark for law and order in the threatened anarchy of that distracted region. Practically a dictator, all his acts were directed toward the restoration of civil, and the repression of military government. He had the satisfaction before his death of seeing all the States which had been under his control restored to their proper relations to the general government.

As would naturally be the case, he was a favorite candidate for the presidency, in 1868, in a large portion of the West and South. But he quickly suppressed all such tendencies. In a letter on the subject he declared that under no circumstances would he permit his name to be so used, and that even if nominated he should decline. Among other things he wrote: “ I am wholly disqualified for so high and responsible a position. . . . I have not the necessary control over my temper. ... I have no taste for politics. ... I am poor, and could not afford it.” Surely, so frank and outspoken refusal was never before made by any possible candidate. A politician, in the common use of that word, Thomas could never be : a statesman, in the true sense, he always was. The Constitution was his political Bible. To its study and interpretation he gave his serious and constant attention.

In all personal qualities, General Thomas was the very model of a soldier and a gentleman. Six feet in height, with a graceful and well proportioned figure, he at once attracted the attention his merits so amply repaid. Not brilliant in conversation, like Sherman, he was genial, humorous, thoughtful, and stimulating. His knowledge of books and of philosophy was broad and accurate. While not properly classed as a scholar, he knew what is best in the best books. He had carefully considered the great themes of life and experience, and on proper occasions gave fit expression to his convictions. With a naturally hot and quick temper, he had learned to subdue its outbreaks and to make it serve its proper ends. He was entirely free from affectation, self-consciousness, or ceremoniousness ; and he bore himself the same to the soldier in the ranks as to his commander. He never said, or did, or thought anything for effect. He hated noise and controversy and disorder. His whole nature craved peace and harmony. His greatness was inherent and natural and entire. His tastes were all simple and refined. He commanded respect and devotion by his very presence. Wherever he appeared, on the march or in the heat of battle, everything was " all right ” in the estimation of his soldiers.

That such a man, so constituted and so trained, should have been a great soldier was the necessary result, not of any special aptitude, but of a nature great in all things. His only warlike quality was his temper, and that was never shown in battle. There he was calm, steady, unmoved, determined to bring order out of the temporary chaos in the best and quickest way. They mistake who have called him slow. His mind was quick, alert, foreseeing. Having planned in advance as well as he could to assure success, he carried out his purposes with ease and smoothness, but with inexorable determination. If an unexpected emergency arose, he never hesitated or doubted. To will and to do were interchangeable words. And so there remains to his credit a record of unbroken success. “ In one point, he lias been the most fortunate of men. If ever he has committed a mistake, it has not yet been discovered.” These words of Mr. Justice Matthews, uttered two years before his death, remain true now as then.

In the final view of General Thomas’s character and career, and in assigning him his proper place among the great names of history, the mind again insensibly reverts to Washington. Both were Virginians, both were greater in their aims and purposes than any State boundary could confine. 舠His native State was sacred to him only as it was consecrated to the Constitution and the Union. And if his conduct and career were in contrast with those of other of her sous whom on that account she has preferred to honor, nevertheless a generation in Virginia will yet arise who will learn and confess the truth, that George H. Thomas, when he lifted his sword to bar the pathway of her secession, loved her as well as these, and served her better.”

Henry Stone.