George Thomas died at fifty-three in apoplectic fury, refuting criticisms of his military record by John Schofield, one of the slimiest and most nauseating creatures of the Civil War, later promoted General-in-chief and probably trying to sabotage Thomas’s chances of being selected in his place.

It is not only readers of the present brief eulogy who might wonder what there could be to criticise in such an unblemished career. Many of us lifelong students of the war have noted the rare integrity of character that lay behind the campaigning skills - easy to miss, as Thomas was less given to self-promotion than any other general of his rank, and it is certain that his unwritten memoirs would have stood out as a beacon of accuracy and truth.

The most obvious test was loyalty to the Union, for whose defence he had taken solemn vows as a cadet. It is not surprising that half the cavalry resigned to join the Confederates, since the cavalry were more likely to be southerners, accustomed to the riding and shooting life. Some experienced a crisis of faith in crossing the divide, notably the Virginian blue-blood Robert E. Lee, whose prevarications do not suggest either soldierly decisiveness nor the dazzling nobility that has been so widely attributed to him. It was the other Virginian, Thomas, who passed the test, siding with the North, and earning such loathing from his own family that they turned his portraits to face the wall.
Those who accused him of slowness were fooled by image. He was a large, heavy man who had suffered a back injury, and had ceased to be athletic. He was also liable to take his time over decisions, refusing to be rushed. But once settled on a course of action, he could move his divisions as quickly and nimbly as the best of them.

This was the famous ‘Rock of Chickamauga’, who crucially saved central Tennessee for the Union, and went on to become the only general to send a whole Confederate army scattering in a headlong rout, bringing the war into its final phase.

The brilliant but unstable Sherman had reserved the cream of his army for the crossing of Georgia, which could have been achieved with far less than the 60,000 he took with him. Meanwhile he had allowed Thomas just 30,000 for the far more perilous defence of Nashville, and these turned out to be largely schoolboys and pensioners. But Thomas was never heard to complain, any more than he did when Grant threatened to sack him for not attacking sooner at Nashville. But we need not linger over Grant’s opinions of other generals. His own memoirs, however well-written, have been shown-up - quite recently - as a pack of lies.