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Lieut. George W. Landrum
OUR FLAG.
BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword—
His truth is marching on.
I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps-
His day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal: "
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on.
He hath sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat;
0, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet-
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free
While God is marching on.
—Julia Ward Howe.
"OFFICE OF THE SIGNAL CORPS"
"Washington, April 7, 1864. "General Orders, No. 18.
"It is with feelings of profound sorrow and regret that I am called upon to announce to the corps under my command, that one
of its bravest and most talented officers, Lieutenant George W. Landrum, 2d Ohio Volunteers, and Acting Signal Officer, was killed upon the battlefield of Chickamauga."
"The fate of this officer has been, until the present time, involved in doubt and uncertainty. Unceasing efforts have been made to ascertain if he were a prisoner of war (as there have been rumors giving evidence to such belief), but all to no purpose."
"The following extract, from a communication signed by J. T. S. Thompson, Surgeon 3d Tennessee Regiment (Confederate Army), now a prisoner of war, published in a western paper for the information of friends of the deceased, presents, it is believed, a true history of the fate of this gallant officer:"
`"THE FATE OF LIEUTENANT LANDRUM"
' (Cincinnati Commercial, 1864.)
"`The fate of this highly-respected young officer has been involved in doubt since the battle of Chickamauga. At one time it was believed he had fallen into the hands of the Rebels and was a prisoner of war. But his name never appeared in any of the lists of prisoners. His relatives have made every effort, by correspondence and personal inquiry, to penetrate the mystery, but in vain. The following letters, however, show that he died a hero and a patriot at Chickamauga. It is a melancholy satisfaction to his many friends and relatives to be placed in possession of the particulars of his death, and they may well feel a mournful pride and pleasure in the knowledge that his last words were so becoming and so characteristic of the true soldier."—Eds. Com.
" 'Decatur, Ala., March 23, 1864."
"'Eds. Com.—Will you be kind enough to hand the within note to the parents or friends of George W. Landrum, First Lieutenant of Signal Corps, killed at the battle of Chickamauga, September 20, 1863. Surgeon J. T. S. Thompson (a prisoner of war, captured near this place by the 9th Illinois Mounted Infantry), learning I was from Cincinnati, informed me of these facts and wrote this request and not knowing the deceased or his parents, I take the liberty of sending it to you."
`Your friend,
" 'Dr. Gaines, Post Hospital.'"
`Decatur, Alabama, March 22, 1864.
`Lieutenant George Landrum, of Cincinnati, received his
mortal wound on the 20th day of September, 1863, during the bat-
tle of Chickamauga. He lived about two hours after receiving the
wound, a portion of which time he suffered very much. A Minie
ball passed through the pelvis, penetrating the bladder. He was
on his horse, riding in a gallop, at the time he received the wound.
I saw him a few moments after he had fallen. He was suffering
very much, but rested much easier after I gave him a small dose
of morphine. After he had grown easy he asked me to give him
my candid opinion of his condition. When I told him that I
thought he would certainly die in a short time, he remarked that
he was not afraid to die; that he had the consolation of knowing that he was dying in a glorious cause. He requested me, if I had an opportunity, to inform his relatives of his death, and how he died. He was decently buried the next day after he died.
" ' J. T. S. Thompson,"
`Surgeon 3d Tenn. Reg't, Prisoner of War.'
"Evincing, in his daily intercourse with his brother officers, traits of character of the highest order, brilliant as a man of intellect, and a brave and energetic soldier, his loss is deeply lamented. But, while we mourn him, we may remember, with peculiar pride, that he met his glorious fate of a hero, upon the bloody field of Chickamauga, while bravely discharging his duty. May our last words be his, 'I am not afraid to die.'
"In respect to his memory, the officers of the Signal Corps will wear the usual badge of mourning for thirty days. "By order of
"Major W. T. J. Nicodemus,
(In charge of Bureau of the Signal Corps). "Henry V. Taft,"
"Captain and Signal Officer."
RESOLUTIONS ON THE DEATH OF LIEUT. GEORGE W. LANDRUM
A meeting of the friends of Lieutenant George W. Landrum was yesterday held in Room No. 2, Superior Court. Chas. E. Cist, Esq., was appointed president, and T. B. Disney, secretary.
"L. D. Champlin, Esq., Judge Hoadley, and Captain James Warnock were appointed a committee on resolutions, and submitted the following, which, after some remarks by Judge Hoadley, Captain James Warnock, Charles E. Cist, and others, was unanimously adopted and a copy directed to be sent to the family of the deceased:"
"George W. Landrum, killed in the gallant discharge of the noblest of duties, at Chickamauga, was in life a man of kindly and genial spirit, and many accomplishments; in death, a hero for whom we mourn, and yet with the consolation of knowing that he felt how glorious a privilege it was to die such a death."
" 'We, his friends and associates, who long hoped that his absence from the army might be accounted for by captivity at the South, have at last learned the manner of his death with grief and pain on our own account, as hereafter to be denied the pleasure of his society in this life, but with gratitude to the Giver of all good, who vouchsafed to our friend so noble an end to a worthy life, and made his death a victory.' "
ADMIRATION OF FRIEND AND FOE ALIKE
The military and noble bearing of Lieutenant Landrum everywhere, especially in the fury of the conflict, arrested attention, which, with his courage and loyalty to duty on the field of battle, won the admiration of friend and foe alike.
The following extracts from letters of Confederate officers who witnessed his death, bear testimony to the truth of this statement:
Col. James D. Tillman, in command of the Confederate troops before whom he fell mortally wounded, writing -under date of Nov. 23, 1894, says : "The incident of the shooting of Lieutenant Landrum on that Sunday afternoon (at Chickamauga) has been spoken of at reunions of Confederate soldiers and around the domestic fireside and on hunting and fishing excursions for more than twenty-five years, but none of us ever knew the name of the officer until I got into correspondence with Mr. Smart."
COPY OF A LETTER FROM COL. JAS. D. TILLMAN OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Fayetteville, Tenn., Oct. 13, 1894. "J. P. Smart, Esq.
"Dear Sir: If there is any place I could locate on the Chickamauga battlefield, it is the place where the Federal officer on the gray horse fell. I have just seen Mr. Bagley, mentioned in my last letter. He also remembers, like myself, distinctly the incident, and I have not seen at any time a member of my command who does not remember it. I will try to come to Chattanooga during the next month, and will try to get Mr. Bagley to come with me. It is admitted that Bagley fired the first of the many shots fired at Landrum. We could give no information as to the place of his burial."
"Truly yours,"
"Jas. D. Tillman,"
"Col. in Confederate Army."
EXTRACT OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY CAPT. C. B. BAGLEY, OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Fayetteville, Tenn., Dec. 1, 1894."
"Mr. 0. J. Wilson, Cincinnati, Ohio."
"Dear Sir: I assure you it gave me great pleasure to be of service to you and Mrs. Wilson in helping to locate the spot where your dear one fell. I join you in all honor to the brave spirits on both sides who gave up their lives in defense of what they thought was right. Immediately, after meeting you on your arrival at Chattanooga, there came over me a peculiar sadness I never felt before, and on retiring that night I asked the Lord to guide us to the spot where Lieutenant Landrum fell, for the loving sister's sake. The prayer was answered. On coming to the spot it was perfectly familiar, though thirty-one years had passed since I saw it. I did not make it known until I had gone beyond to the point where I was wounded. It was also readily found. All was then clear. I was prepared to point out to you the two locations, which Colonel Tillman also recognized as being the spot."
"C. B. Bagley."
COPY OF LETTER OF R. R. WILLIAMS, AN OFFICER IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY
"Mt. Pleasant, Tenn., Oct. 13, 1894. "
"Mr. J. P. Smart, Chattanooga, Tenn."
"Dear Sir: I have been handed a communication written by you to Capt. W. S. Gennings, who commanded a company of the Third Tennessee Regiment, and he being absent during the battle of Chickamauga, command of the company devolved upon the first lieutenant. I recollect very vividly the circumstances you relate in your i communicaton and they are very accurate in de- tail. Especially do I recall the fate of the brave cavalier, who, so regardless of his fate and intent on delivering his dispatches, attempted to run the gauntlet of our line of skirmishers. I don't remember whether I had charge of the skirmishers or not, but think I must have had, as I was near enough to see all of the affair, and recall the facts as fully as if they occurred but yesterday. I have often wondered who this person was and what was his errand and rank. The flight of his beautiful gray steed, seemingly conscious of the importance of his mission, and the manly, erect, dignified bearing of the rider, to whom danger seemed to develop his fullest stature, recalled to me more than anything I ever saw, the stirring description of the heroic knights of ancient chivalry."
"I have never visited the battlefield of Chickamauga, but if I could be placed on Snodgrass Ridge, I think I could identify the very spot on which he fell, or within a few yards. I suppose it was about one o'clock."
Yours. very respectfully,
"R. R. Williams."
LETTER TO MRS. WM. P. BRADLEY, SISTER OF LIEUTENANT GEORGE .W. LANDRUM, JANUARY, 1863
"Hd. Qrs. Center 14th, Army Corps, Murfreesboro, Tenn. "Dear Minnie:
"You have doubtless read many accounts of the great battle we fought, of the awful sacrifice of life, the almost numberless host of wounded, and the great loss of property. But I do not believe any one can give you in a letter any idea of the terrible reality. The battlefield was strewn for miles and miles with the dead, dying, and wounded soldiers, horses, and negroes.
"There was continuous fighting for five days. The hardest, fiercest fight was on the 31st of December. On that day at daylight the enemy attacked our right wing (General McCook's Corps), taking our men by surprise. Many of our officers were still in their beds, the men cooking their breakfasts, and the artillerymen watering their horses. The attack was fiercely made, and the enemy completely turned our right wing, driving us back about two and one-half miles. The slaughter was terrible. They captured several of our batteries (as the horses were away), a great number of prisoners, and a great many wagons. A perfect panic was started in the right wing, and was fast spreading to our whole army, when General Rousseau came on to the field and
ordered his division—the old Third, now the First—on to the charge. It was beautifully done. He checked, and finally drove the enemy back, slaughtering them by the hundreds. Again they came on, and again were driven back. So it was for four or five hours. Their loss was greater than ours, and they were gradually forced back on the center, but held the ground they had gained on the right.
"At about four o'clock General Rosecrans collected all his batteries at a position to the right, and the fight raged on. Our grape, canister, and shells mowed them down like grass. The cannonading was deafening, and between the discharges of the batteries could be heard the rattling war of the musketry, dealing death to the traitors even more fearfully than the artillery. But they fought like very devils, and for a long time it was doubtful as to whether we could bold our own even. Our right had been turned, our line of battle changed, the enemy's cavalry were in our rear cutting into and burning our wagons by the hundreds. The roads and woods were full of our flying men spreading the report: 'We are cut all to pieces; every officer in our regiment killed! We are all that is left,' etc., ad infinitum."
"All this was as early in the day as eleven o'clock. I had been up for three days and nights working on Signal Station, without any sleep, and with very little to eat. I did not get on to the field until about that time. The road was completely jammed with men flying on foot, on mules, on horses—sometimes two on one horse, some without hats, all without arms. Wagons were being hurried back, and our cavalry were flying in all directions. I finally made my way to the front, heartsick, discouraged, and desponding. I could but see that we were badly whipped, and every one seemed to think as I did; but I determined that it should never be said of me that I had joined in so disgraceful a flight. I would rather be killed on the spot than to have it in the power of any one to point to me as one of the panic-stricken men then flying from the field. I finally made my way to General Thomas, and found him in the thickest of the fight. Never have I seen such terrible fighting, or heard such a continuous roar of guns, or been in a place where the grape, canister, and musket balls rained on us as they did there. Our corps—the center—was gradually being forced back, and it seemed that all was lost; but our brave fellows stood to their work, and the tide of battle seemed to be changing. Again we were driving them back, slowly but surely. The dashing courage and bravery of Rousseau and the gallant, old Third were sure to tell. General Thomas, cool as marble, was there to hold Rousseau in check (as he is brave almost to rashness), and to these two men is due the credit of saving this army from total rout."
The fight raged on, without ceasing, from daylight until it was too dark to see an enemy, and all seemed to desire rest. We did wish it, and were glad of the darkness.
I cannot describe to you my feelings that night. All with whom I conversed acknowledged we were whipped, and expected orders to come to fall back on Nashville. But how? As soon as we attempted to do that it would result in a general rout—perhaps a panic. We were evidently in a very precarious situation. We had lost thousands of our brave comrades; our right was completely turned; the enemy was annoying our rear, destroying our wagons and provisions; and all were discouraged. We did not sleep any that night, but gathered around our little fires, shivering with the cold, hungry, and heartsick—not a smile on a single face; for the first time not a joke uttered; all gloomy, disheartened, and desponding. The generals were near by, in an old log hut, in council. Some were for falling back, some for fighting where we were as long as a man would stand. Generals Thomas, Rosecrans, and Rousseau were with the latter, and it was determined to die where we were. We had held our council outside and come to the same conclusion.
"It was, I am proud to say, my wish to stay where we were if we could not go on. Oh, I can never forget one moment of that gloomy New Year's Eve, nor the desponding men that held the `watch-night meeting' of that night. Every minute the ambulances were passing by us filled with the wounded; the air was vile with their groans; on all sides of us the dead and dying were lying in heaps; and during this time the rain commenced to fall. Our poor men were lying out without fire (we did not dare build fires where the enemy could see us, as it would immediately draw their fire), without food, without blankets, and in the mud, too. At twelve o'clock at night, (New Year's), we shook hands all round and gloomily wished 'A Happy New Year' to each other, talked of our friends at home, and each had some directions to give as to the disposal of personal property about us, if 'anything should happen' next day."
"Day broke at last, and we expected, with its dawn, to hear the roar of the enemy's guns. An hour passed and only an occasional musket was heard; another hour, no attack yet. What could it mean? We had been all over the field; the generals were posting their commands, cheering the men, and preparing to give the enemy as warm a reception as was in their power, should they give us 'a call.' But time passed on. Twelve o'clock came, and no attack yet. We began to feel easier; they were evidently not in the best condition—must have been badly punished, and did not feel like coming up to time. In this way we argued and finally concluded that we were not whipped yet. All seemed to be encouraged, and faces began to wear a more cheerful aspect."
"Our generals rode around as cool as men could be. Rousseau was everywhere, and whenever he appeared there was a wild enthusiasm. Some of the men actually hugged his horse, shook his hands, caught hold of his legs, and nearly pulled him from his saddle. He is the most popular man in the army; just the man to command the volunteers."
"During the afternoon there was an attack made on our right, but after two or three hours of fierce, hard fighting, they were repulsed with fearful slaughter. Our men were well handled, positions well chosen, and we drove them back with small loss on our
side. There had been some skirmishing and artillery fighting all along our lines, and we had been first best all the afternoon."
"We again gather around our little fire at night. Our faces are a little more cheerful, so our conversation. An occasional joke is heard, and we even laugh aloud; we are in good humor. If we only had something to eat, and our blankets, we might persuade ourselves that we were really happy. Again the generals are in council. Their council is ended and we are ordered to mount our horses and commence our rounds with General Thomas. His orders are given cooly, and are executed quickly. The army have learned that they can trust in him. Every post is visited, every place examined. General Rosecrans is with us, cool, calm, selfpossessed—a cigar in his mouth, not lighted--never is—never saw him without it; an old hat on, a common blue overcoat. His long, large, hooked nose, sharp eyes, give him the appearance of a Jew peddler, and you involuntarily expect to hear him cry 'rags, old clothes,' etc., but he is now as cheerful as he can be. He says he has ' 'em' just where he wants ' 'em,' and he and Thomas inspire all with the confidence they appear to have."
"We all expected they would attack us the next morning, but they did not; but in the afternoon they made a terribly fierce attack on our left, and oh, what an awful onslaught it was! One of our brigades, the Twenty-third, in Van Cleve's Division, broke and ran like dogs; but the Thirty-seventh Indiana, Eighteenth Ohio, Nineteenth Illinois, and some other regiments charged on them, and after a hard hand-to-hand fight, they were driven back, Receiving re-inforcements they came on again, but were driven back, this time in wild confusion, and could not again be rallied. This fight, while it lasted, was, I think, the hottest and most-closely contested of all yet, and resulted in a brilliant victory for us. The next day the enemy commenced evacuating Murfreesboro."
"The next day we had some skirmishing, and at about four O'clock p.m., made our first attack on the enemy's lines, and drove them out of their rifle-pits in front of us. That night we had a happy council around our camp-fire, and we could have a 'great, big one,' too. The next morning the enemy had left Murfreesboro altogether, and after we had made a reconnoisance of the road we virtually took possession of the place."
"This is a confused account of a greater fight than the seven days' fight before Richmond. We lost eleven thousand men, killed, wounded, and missing. The enemy lost some fifteen thousand, so they report. They are going to make another stand at Shelbyville, some thirty miles from here, or else attack us here—they say the latter, and I should not be surprised to hear the roar of their guns at any moment. But they will not have the advantage of a surprise next time, as we are doubly vigilant. They did not expect us to leave Nashville this winter, and had built winter quarters here expecting to stay."
"All praise is due our brave men. Never did men do better fighting and suffer greater hardships than they have in this great
battle. They had to lie down in mud knee-deep, without blankets and without food. Many horses were eaten by our soldiers. Such men can never be whipped. They are invincible. Can their country ever be sufficiently grateful to them? Can men deserve more from their countrymen?"
"Well, Minnie, I have been through one more battle, and am unhurt. Men have been shot down behind me, on the right of me, and on the left, and before me. Strange how one escapes and another is stricken."
"When I learned that Colonel Fred Jones was killed, it so unmanned me that I cried. Only a few hours before I had shaken hands with him in front of his men. The enemy were in sight, the bullets flying around us. I was sent there under orders. I can almost feel the grip of his hand on mine as we bade each other `good-bye.' I never saw him more. We have all lost a friend. The country has lost a patriot, a brave officer; one who had ability, courage, and talents of a much higher order than many of our generals. Heaven has gained a saint. I have known Fred for years, and have yet to hear the first ill of him. Among the first to volunteer in defense of his country, he has earned a place in her history that few so young as he could gain, none more deservedly. He has finished his career by giving up his life in a glorious cause. He died a soldier. Let us hope not in vain. I cannot describe my sensations as I passed along the lines and shook the hands of my friends. When I came to Warnock, neither could speak for some time. Finally, our voices came out in 'God bless you, George!' from him, and 'How glad I am to see you! Thank God, we are both alive,' from me."
"You may remember that last spring I described this place to you as one of the prettiest I had seen in 'Dixie.' Oh, what a change! Desolation is written over the face of the whole country. Fences are gone, yards torn up, houses burned or pulled down, and where there were then beautiful flower gardens, there are now mud-holes. Trees have been chopped down for wood, arbors destroyed, and the large, fine, and elegant residences are rapidly falling to decay. All, all is desolation!"
"May God, in his mercy, forever keep war from our peaceful homes in the North."
"Your brother,"
"George W. Landrum."
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