We arrived at the Carter House and museum at the same time as a school bus full of kids who were coming for the tour. I was afraid that we'd be overrun, but it worked out really well. In fact, the museum historian talked to our class and half of the kids together and because he was speaking to kids, he kept his language plain and simple which made it easier for my students.
There are many fascinating facts about the Battle of Franklin. It is, according to the historian, the bloodiest battle in American history. It didn't have the highest death toll, but in terms of deaths per hour and also the cost to the army (16 brigadier generals were killed there and nearly 100 other officers), it was the worst. And it all was stupid military strategy to try a frontal attack against an army that already had entrenchments and were well armed.
The people involved were also fascinating. General Cleburne, the one who proposed that ths South free the slaves and have them fight as soldiers, led his men in heavy fighting and was killed there. (There's a marker in the parking lot of the Dominoes Pizza place to show where he was killed.) General Douglas MacArthur's father, Arthur MacArthur, was wounded in the battle where he fought across the street from where we were today. (My Japanese, Chinese and Korean students all know MacArthur well.)
But the most interesting story about the Battle of Franklin is about Tod Carter. It was his house that we visited today. By age 18 he was a practicing lawyer. He joined the army in May 1962, was captured in 1963, escaped while being transported to Pennsylvania, rejoined the Army of Tennessee where he served as a soldier (maybe an officer) and as a war correspondent for a confederate paper. Today we stood on the hill from which Hood's Confederate forces were sent into battle and know that Tod Carter must have been looking at his own house where he was born and raised for the first time in 2 and a half years. He was going home. But the battle he had to go into to get home was fierce and he was shot down 180 yards southwest of his own house. The next day his father and sisters found him and carried him home where he died the next day in the very room where he was born.
When I learned about Tod Carter on Tuesday, I couldn't get my mind on anything else. In fact, I cried in my dreams that night as I was dreaming about him and his family. I hope that some of my students choose to write about Tod Carter for their writing assignment.