William Lowndes Calhoun – Captain, Company K
In the spring of 1862, Wm. Lowndes Calhoun with the aid of Robert F. Maddox, organized in the city of Atlanta a company of infantry which was named the “Calhoun Guard,” in honor of his father Hon. James M. Calhoun. In march 1862, the companies assembled at Camp MacDonald, a place near Big Shanty on the Western & Atlantic R.R. were organized in to regiments and the “Calhoun Guard” was attached to the 42nd Regt. Of Georgia Volunteers, and was the left company of that Regiment and designated as Co. “K”. Col. Maddox desiring to be elected Lieut. Col. of the Regiment, was temporarily elected Captain of Co. “K.” Maddox held it only a few days when he was elected Lieu. Col. of the Regiment. Lieutenant Calhoun was immediately elected Captain and commanded the company until the war ended. He was then twenty four years of age. The 42nd was commanded by Col., afterwards General R. J. Henderson. The Regiment was first ordered to East Tennessee when Capt. Calhoun by order of Gen. E. Kirby Smith, was detached from the command and ordered to take charge of some five hundred prisoners and carry them to Milledgeville, Geo. Upon arrival at Macon he received orders from General Lee, then in command on the coast of Georgia, to take the prisoners to Madison, Ga., which he did and was then placed in command of the Post at that place, remaining there eight months, and was only at last relieved by the intercession of Capt. Wirz who visited him at Madison and heard his request to rejoin his company. Some eight hundred prisoners were in his charge at Madison: quite a responsibility for so young a man.
He rejoined his command at Vicksburg Miss. And went through that memorable campaign of six months; never losing an hours service; was engaged in the Battle of Bakers Creek and went through the siege of Vicksburg, remaining forty seven days and nights in the trenches, with insufficient food and water and not a change of clothing and continuous fighting. When the surrender of Vicksburg took place he was burned by the rays of the sun as dark as an Indian, and had upon his person an abundant supply of those inseparable companions of the old soldier, especially in a siege when confined to the trenches with no change of garments. On the 3rd of July, the night before the surrender, he was in a few feet of the enemy, and when notified that the surrender would take place on the next day, the fourth of july, he felt and promptly announced that , after the heroic defense of that place, it was a shame to surrender on that day, and if left to him he would make a general assault on the enemy and sacrifice every man before he would do so. He was afterwards with Gen. Bragg and Gen. Johnston’s armies, until severely wounded in the 2nd days fight at Resaca, Ga., having been shot in the left hip while charging the enemy’s works. This wound came near being fatal and never healed until after the war. He was, however, in part of Hood’s campaign in Tennessee and attempted to join the army in North Carolina; but his wound prevented. Capy Calhoun was very often ordered on detached duty and was a long time president of the examining board of his Brigade. His Regt. Was in Rain’s, Bartow, Stovall, and Henderson’s Brigades at different times and in Stephens and Stewart’s Divisions.
This undated biography is in the Calhoun file at the Atlanta History Center
FLAG THAT WAS FOLLOWED BY BLOODY FORTY-SECOND
Atlanta Constitution, Confederate Memorial Day, Georgia State Capitol, 1904
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For the first time since it waved above the “Bloody” Forty-second Georgia, a regiment organized in and around Atlanta, the history of the regiment’s old battle flag, which survived the struggle, tattered, stained and battle scarred. as it is, was told in public by Colonel W. L. Calhoun at the exercises at the capitol last Tuesday in honor of Memorial day.
Colonel Calhoun was a captain in the Forty-second Georgia and was severely wounded under that standard. His address upon the flag was as follows:
Madame President, Comrades, Ladies and Gentlemen: The people of the south believed that the United States government was a pact between sovereign states embodied in the fundamental law known as the constitution, and that it was the duty of the states as well as the people to sacredly observe and keep its requirements, and that the people of the north had violated its terms and were seeking to oppress the south and destroy its institutions, directly in conflict with the spirit of the constitution. For this, and for the preservation of the constitution, they took up arms, not as traitors, not to destroy, but to preserve the government – a principle which is not dead, but must live if republican government is maintained. Seeing no hope for the south in the Union they resolved to — “Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare And give her to the God of Storms, The lightning and the gale.”
“From the earliest traces of civilization to the present time standards, or flags., have been used by all governments as symbols of a common sentiment, and as reminders of past deeds, past heroes, and expressions of sentiments of honor, patriotism and devotion, and as necessary in warfare to discipline and good leadership. In accord of this custom of the ages the confederate flag, the Stars and Bars, had its existence and will appear forever in resplendent glory on the pages of history. Collected here today, in the capitol of the state of Georgia, are a few of the tattered remnants of standards which the men of the south followed in the mighty struggle made for right and honor. Among them is the old battle flag of the Forty-second Georgia regiment of infantry, which I, and many others, some of whom are present today, followed until it went down in defeat, but not in disgrace, and under whose folds many fell, sacrificing their lives for homes and country. Company E, commanded by Captain T. J. Mercer, was the color company, and had immediate charge of the flag. The first color-bearer was T. D. Goodson, who died at Bean Station; the next John Ingram, who died at Vicksburg; the third S. K. Huff, who was killed while heroically bearing it in the bloody charge of the regiment at Resaca. When Huff fell T. J. Boyd seized and brought the flag out and carried it until delivered to the last color bearer, W. F. Edwards, in this city, who bore it till the sad end, who is present here today, and still wearing it next to his heart. Will you pardon me for saying that, having shed my own blood under its folds upon the soil of my native state of Georgia, there is nothing in this life that could have honored me more than to have been chosen by the Atlanta chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy to pay tribute to our old flag.
I wish I had the eloquent tongue of Jefferson Davis Benjamin H. Hill, John B. Gordon or Henry W. Grady to speak to you of the sacred flag of my old regiment. There it is before you. I greet it; but it is silent. Oh, that it could unfold to you the patriotism, heroism, sacrifices of precious blood and lives of its followers in the twenty-two battles in which they were engaged – Tazewell, Cumberland Gap, Chickasaw Bayou, Bakers Creek, Vicksburg, Missionary Ridge, Rocky Face, Resaca, New Hope, Pumpkin Vine, Kennesaw, Atlanta July 20, 22, and 28, 1864; Jonesboro, Franklin Nashville, Edisto River, Binakers Bridge, Orangeburg, Winston, and the last battle at Bentonville. Of the scenes under and about t when for forty-seven days and nights it was planted on the battlements at Vicksburg and was successfully defended against furious assaults by poorly armed, exhausted and half starved men, or of the deathly charge at Resaca, in our own state, where the gallant Huff, a splendid specimen of young southern manhood, fell in death while bearing it to the front, or in the brilliant charge on July 22, within the limits of this city, when a federal battery was captured by the Forty-second Georgia. Upon it there is no dishonor. On its folds there is no stain except that made by the life
I wish I had the eloquent tongue of Jefferson Davis Benjamin H. Hill, John B. Gordon or Henry W. Grady to speak to you of the sacred flag of my old regiment. There it is before you. I greet it; but it is silent. Oh, that it could unfold to you the patriotism, heroism, sacrifices of precious blood and lives of its followers in the twenty-two battles in which they were engaged – Tazewell, Cumberland Gap, Chickasaw Bayou, Bakers Creek, Vicksburg, Missionary Ridge, Rocky Face, Resaca, New Hope, Pumpkin Vine, Kennesaw, Atlanta July 20, 22, and 28, 1864; Jonesboro, Franklin Nashville, Edisto River, Binakers Bridge, Orangeburg, Winston, and the last battle at Bentonville. Of the scenes under and about t when for forty-seven days and nights it was planted on the battlements at Vicksburg and was successfully defended against furious assaults by poorly armed, exhausted and half starved men, or of the deathly charge at Resaca, in our own state, where the gallant Huff, a splendid specimen of young southern manhood, fell in death while bearing it to the front, or in the brilliant charge on July 22, within the limits of this city, when a federal battery was captured by the Forty-second Georgia. Upon it there is no dishonor. On its folds there is no stain except that made by the life blood of its bearer. I have among my relics a small piece of it which I prize more highly than I would the brightest jewels of a regal crown.
In conclusion, I would say to the men of the old Forty-second regiment that when our earthly ends shall have come I wish that our bodies might be gathered in some beautiful place in our sunny, flowery south land, and that our old confederate flag might be placed thereon and wave over them until that day when the land and the sea shall give up their dead.
Edward Branham (1843-1902)
In 1940, with the veterans having crossed the river, the UDC volunteers began publishing soldier letters and memories from people who were children at the time of the conflict. Below is a good, if politically incorrect, example. These are the reminiscences of Henry Flourney Branham, an 1880 Emory College graduate, Methodist minister, and Georgia politician. Born in 1860, he was the son of Rev. Walter Richardson Branham. Henry died in 1941, a year after writing these recollections. His matching of a destroyed South to a post-World War I Belgium is an interesting comparison. His older brother, Edward Branham (1843-1902), of the “Newton Rifles,” was appointed 2nd Master Sergeant of the 42nd Georgia in September 1863. After surrendering at Greensboro, Edward walked back to Oxford where he became a medical doctor. Members of the Branham family are buried together at the Historic Oxford Cemetery.
I was born in Oxford a short time before the last unpleasantness commonly called the War Between the States. I came into the world just in time to get some of the regime. Of course, I do not remember the soldiers marching off to war, I may have seen the flying flags, I may have heard the beating drums and the fife’s shrill playing, but I do not remember them at all.
I do remember their coming back one, two, three at a time, tired beyond expression, ragged, foot-sore, one-legged, but with uplifted heads, overpowered but unconquered. The bravery of the men who followed Lee, Jackson, Johnson, and Hood has never been questioned, but as I have grown older and come to know more of life, I am certain that their bravery on the battlefield was far surpassed by the sublime courage and patience shown by these soldiers during the years immediately succeeding the War.
They found on their return chimneys where they had left homes, thickets of briars and bushes instead of cultivated fields, their social fabric destroyed, their financial system gone, their slaves free, and their conquerors trying with devilish ingenuity to place over their country as rulers their former slaves. Their heroism and patience have never been surpassed. Belgium was no more completely overrun and destroyed than the South: but there was no Red Cross nor other agencies to collect money for them, no smiling Hoover to carry the money and assist as an engineer in the rebuilding of their country. They worked out their own salvation and I can say without fear of contradiction that no land as desolate as the South was ever rehabilitated itself so quickly since God made the world and put men on it.
But I began to write this to tell you some things that happened to me and that I saw happen to other folks. One of my brothers was there in the 42nd Georgia Regiment. He had a negro with him named Arthur. While the Siege of Vicksburg was going on, Arthur dug a hole in the ground as protection from the fire of the gunboats and he said, “Marse Ed, you go in first and I’ll come in on top, and if a shell drops in here it won’t kill nothing but a nigger, and they ain’t worth as much now as they used to be.”
When Pemberton surrendered, the Federal commander paroled the white troops and allowed them to go home, but kept the negroes attached to the army to build the breastworks. My brother arrived home one day about noon. The next night, about midnight, someone knocked at the front door. My mother asked, “Who is it?” The voice came back, “Old Miss it’s me, its Arthur. Has Marse Ed got home?” When he found that he was there, he said, “Well, I’ll go down to the quarters and go to bed.”
The next morning, when my father found that Arthur had ridden a mule home, he asked him where he had gotten the mule. Arthur scratched his head, and replied, “Ole Marster, I have heard you say, ‘You mustn’t question a chile too close as you might make him tell a lie, and a darky is just like a chile.” This closed the incident, but in a short time a roving squad of Yankees, or our own cavalry, “impressed” the mule. Arthur was a fair example of loyalty.
Our old cook Aunt Aggie was a mighty tower of strength in those troublesome days. When told by two or three Federal soldiers to prepare dinner for them, she said, “Not now, the white folks ain’t et yet.” And with a rolling pin in her hand she stood in the door and kept them out of the kitchen. One of our neighbors asked Aunt Aggie one day how the family was getting on. “All right,” she said, “but Ole Miss is powerfully disturbed about Marse Jim (another brother). She ain’t heard from him since the Battle of Seven Pines. I done told her dat if dere was seben pines dare, that boy would have sense enough to get behind one of them.”
William H. Hulsey (1838-1909) – Lt. Colonel of the 42nd Georgia
In 2015, Morphy Auctions in Pennsylvania sold the Confederate coat of Colonel Hulsey for more than $40,000. The auction lot read:
William H. Hulsey was a distinguished soldier and builder of Atlanta, Georgia, born in Dekalb County in 1838, came to nearby Atlanta to receive his scholastic education. This completed, he was admitted to the bar just barely out of his teens. In April 1861 he entered Confederate service as a Lieutenant in the 6th Georgia Infantry. His skill and valor as an officer resulted in his rapid advance in rank, in speedy succession he was made Major of the 42nd and later LT Colonel of the 42nd Georgia. This is the coat he would have worn after commanding his unit at the battles of Missionary Ridge and through Atlanta where he was wounded. As Major of the 42nd Hulsey fought at the battles of Cumberland Gap and Tazewell, Tennessee. From December 1862 to July of 1863 his command was under General John Pemberton during the Vicksburg Campaign, where he was captured after the surrender of Vicksburg. After confederate service William Hulsey became a Judge and later legislator. Judge Hulsey was elected Mayor at age 32 by an overwhelming majority in 1869. His administration was characterized by exceptional enterprise and fidelity and he is noted as to founding the Atlanta Public School system. He was indeed one of the forerunners of Greater Atlanta. As a criminal Attorney, Hulsey ranked among the most eloquent and successful that Georgia has produced. Judge Hulsey was a prominent Atlanta attorney until his death May 17th 1909. In respect to former Mayor and Confederate Colonel, city hall and city court closed early in respect to his memory. Judge Hulsey’s grave simply reads “WILLIAM HENRY HULSEY LIEUT COLONEL 42ND GEORGIA REGIMENT OCTOBER 17TH, 1838 – MAY 17TH 1909”. Judge Hulsey along with most prominent Atlantans is buried in Oakland cemetery.
Accompanying LT Colonel Hulsey’s uniform coat is his signed oath of allegiance dated May 16th 1865, his original LT Colonel’s appointment signed by Confederate Secretary of War, James Seddon, docketed on bottom left corner “HOOD” (LT General John Bell Hood) who was commanding the Army of Tennessee. Also accompanying is a fine Georgia State Commission signed by Georgia Confederate Governor Joseph E. Brown and Adjutant General Henry Wayne as Major March 20, 1862. These three documents are quite rare especially for high ranking officer’s. Also accompanying is one of Hulsey’s last pay vouchers for $150.00 paid February 2nd, 1865. It is also interesting that he possesses a pay voucher for the Regimental Adjutants pay of September 1864 along with a signed promissory note from same Adjutant to Hulsey. There is also a military pass signed by order of General Wright to Hulsey for travel September 1864. Also accompanying is a fine cabinet card photograph of Hulsey and a printed bio, showing his birth and death, the thirteen battles he was involved in and other biographical information. Hulsey’s coat is a classic double breasted cadet gray wool frock made with thin blue cording around collar, lined in polished blue cotton cloth retaining all of its original 22 General Staff buttons (14 front, 4 tail, 2 each cuff), collar insignia is directly sewn pair of bullion 1″ stars Lieutenant Colonel on each side of collar. This is a fine complete unaltered coat that has been on display until recently at the Atlanta History Center from direct descent of family. This is the finest high-ranking historic Confederate Uniform we have ever had the opportunity to auction. CONDITION: Coat is very good to fine overall, with scattered areas of mothing, especially on tails and back of neck near collar as can be seen in photos. Lining has numerous small tears and reductions as can be seen in photos as well as light fading and soiling. Patterned sleeve lining made of light weight cotton is solid and complete. Cording on back of collar is loose and lost much of its blue outer colored thread. Buttons all appear original and have typical “EXTRA QUALITY” back marks. Also laid in the acid free storage box that coat is retained is a small leather powder bag and powder horn that is complete though strap is loose and has very fragile deteriorating surface but was supposed to have been Hulsey’s. Accompanying documents are very good overall, though several have bled through adhesive marks on tops and corners.
Leonidas Livingston
Known as “Uncle Lon,” L.F. Livingston personified the political influence enjoyed by many veterans of the 42nd Georgia. Beginning in 1892, the 6’2″ blue-eyed Lon won ten consecutive terms to the U.S. Congress from his district that represented the counties of Campbell, Clayton, DeKalb, Douglas, Fulton, Newton, Rockdale, and Walton counties. Described by the Atlanta Constitution as “fat, plump, and hearty,” the former farmer was a bigger-than-life populist who disliked banks, tariffs, and monopolies. Fighting against deflation on a national scale, Livingston advocated from the stump for the free coinage of silver at a ratio of 16 to 1.
“Colonel” Livingston had the close support of Clark Howell and his Atlanta Constitution, but was strongly opposed by Hoke Smith and his Atlanta Journal. In 1895, American and British diplomats jostled over trade with South America, with Congressman Livingston taking a leading role in asserting the rights of Venezuela. So impressed was the small nation with the congressman from the 5th District of Georgia that they sent a warship to New York City to personally bring Uncle Lon back to their nation. “They gave me a baseball game – simply because it was American,” he told reporters, “the government band was present and played ‘Dixie’ between the innings, and the crowd kept up a constant shouting of ‘Hurrah for Cleveland,’ and ‘Hurray for the Monroe Doctrine.’”
Cliff Roberts
William Thomas Mayo
Men of Irish descent had a prominent place in the Georgia Brigade. This is William Thomas Mayo (There is a County Mayo in Ireland) of Company H (the Walton Tigers) of the 42nd Georgia.
Private Mayo (1831-1899) married Barbara Calendar O’Kelly (A pretty Irish lass) in Walton County, July 23, 1857; He enlisted in Monroe May 12, 1862; Captured at Vicksburg, MS July 4, 1863; Absent without leave on Dec 10, 1863 muster roll; Surrendered at Greensboro, NC April 26, 1865; Farmer in Blasingame in 1880; Buried at Herndon Cemetery in Social Circle.
Benjamin Franklin Moore – Company G
In 2017, Cowan’s Auctions in Cincinnati sold for $6,000 two 5 X 7 tintypes of brothers from Walton County. Benjamin Franklin Moore was a member of Company G, the Walton Blues, of the 42nd Georgia. He is shown in a homespun jean cloth shell jacket and Georgia buttons. His older brother, Thomas Reuben Moore, a member of Company F of the 16th Georgia, appears in uniform, holding his bowie knife. Included in the purchase is T.R.’s war diary.
B.F. Moore (1843-1900) was captured at Vicksburg, MS July 4, 1863; Present on Dec 11, 1863 muster roll; Appointed regimental musician; Surrendered at Greensboro, NC April 26, 1865; Married Mary Frances Thompson in Walton County, Nov 8, 1866; Miller in Walton County after the war; Buried in Thompson Family Cemetery in Walton County.
T.R. Moore died of wounds received at the Battle of Crampton’s Gap, 17 Oct. 1862. His body was not returned to Georgia.
An Account of Lt. William Smith, Company B, 42nd Georgia
The troopers of Nathan Bedford Forest covered the advance and retreat of the Army of Tennessee in their winter 1864 campaign to Nashville. William Smith, a 1st lieutenant in Company B of the 42nd Georgia, had a memorable encounter with one of Forrest’s horseman.
Covering the retreat from Nashville, Smith had just deployed his company on the wooden bridge into Franklin, but “before I could tell the men that we were expected to die there or hold the bridge, eight or ten thousand mounted infantry and cavalry came down at full speed along the pike and through the field.” Smith remembered that, “The boys killed them by the score, many riderless horses came dashing across the bridge, but we held on like grim death.” The longer Smith’s contingent managed to hold the bridge, the more time General Stephen Lee had to reorganize and push the Confederate rear guard out of Franklin and south toward Spring Hill. Unfortunately for the Georgians defending the bridge, Federal cavalry had forded the Harpeth River on the Hillsboro Pike to the west and were now charging into the streets of Franklin. “One of my men shouted to me, ‘Great God, look in our rear,’” recalled Smith. The town of Franklin was suddenly full of Federal cavalry and there were thousands more in front of Smith’s band of defenders. As Lee’s engineers worked frantically to destroy the bridge before it could fall into Federal hands, Smith shouted to his men “as best I could” that they should “save themselves if they could, or surrender if they desired to do so. I was going out or try.”
So began what Smith would declare in 1900 to be his “closest call” of the war. Running through gardens, over fences, and through houses, he worked his way through the war-ravaged town of Franklin. “I ran on jerking off pickets,” he wrote, “and dodging through enclosures with hundreds of Yankee bullets flying past my head.” Smith crashed through a fence and into an alley. A horseman in a waterproof gum coat was immediately upon him. Was the rider Yank or Confed? “I was out of breath, tired until I could go no further,” recounted Smith. The Rebel officer on the horse reached out his hand, but Smith did not have the energy to spring up on the mount behind the rider. As bullets began to pepper the pair, Smith “threw down all I had but my sword and pistol and company papers. Quick as lightning I was behind him on his horse.” William Smith had been saved by one of Forrest’s officers who had seen the Confederate fleeing through the town and determined that he would “save me or die in the attempt.”[1]
[1] William T. Smith’s account appeared in the Atlanta Journal in 1900.
