“Carley’s House, Oct. 5, 1864. 8:15 p. m.Lt. Gen’l Stewart,Com’d’g Corps.General French’s dispatch, forwarded by yourself, is just received. Gen. Hood directs me to say that he does not know where a division could march at this time to give any assistance to Gen. French, but that you will endeavor to send some scouts to him, and direct him to leave the railroad and march to the West, to New Hope Church.Gen. Hood does not understand how Gen. French could becut offat the point he designates in his dispatch, as he should have moved directly away from the railroad to the West, if he deemed his position precarious.A. P. M.”
“Carley’s House, Oct. 5, 1864. 8:15 p. m.
Lt. Gen’l Stewart,Com’d’g Corps.
General French’s dispatch, forwarded by yourself, is just received. Gen. Hood directs me to say that he does not know where a division could march at this time to give any assistance to Gen. French, but that you will endeavor to send some scouts to him, and direct him to leave the railroad and march to the West, to New Hope Church.
Gen. Hood does not understand how Gen. French could becut offat the point he designates in his dispatch, as he should have moved directly away from the railroad to the West, if he deemed his position precarious.
A. P. M.”
It is of course obvious from the map that if French found Sherman approaching from the South, he had only to follow westward the road up which he had been charging at Allatoona all day and free himself from danger in an hour. It would be of interest to see this dispatch of French’s and observe the hour when sent, but it is not forthcoming. The hour of the reply is significant. It need not have taken a mounted man three hours to get word to Stewart, then near a junction with Hood and to Hood himself, less than 15 miles away. The reply, made at once, is written at 8:15 p. m., and French’s message must certainly have been sent later than 4 p. m. French had probably been gone from Allatoona an hour or more when he bethought him to send the request for a division to extricate him.
The facts are, that it was not until the night of Oct. 5th that the nearest troops of Sherman’s went into camp at Brushy Mountain, 11 miles distant in an air line, and none reached Allatoona until the 7th.
But to return to French. It was really an immense pity that he should feel obliged to leave just when he had but to put forth his hand to snatch the prize; but then it would not do to have his division cut off from the army, and on the whole it might be well to start, and if so, why not at once?
So about 1:30 he says an order was sent to Sears and Cockerell to withdraw. The ground was too rough to carry badly wounded men over it, so that those who could not get away on their own feet had to be left.
The artillery, unable to operate effectively with the assaulting column close up on the works, had already been in part ordered to take the road, and after the assaulting troops had left, French went to the two regiments who had supported it, and sent a battery to the block house at the railway crossing of Allatoona Creek, fired fifty shots at it, knocked it aboutthe ears of the garrison, and setting fire to it, smoked them out and marched them off as prisoners.
French’s report of this affair, written a month later, from which the above is condensed, is very interesting and dramatic, and regarded as a literary composition, of no mean merit. He has certainly made the best of a bad business, and if his facts do not quite tally with those of his opponents, at least the discrepancies were not officially noticed at headquarters, nor probably would a gloomier account of the affair have been considered more inspiriting. Those rations would have been extremely convenient, could they, or even a part of them, have been hauled away for distribution among the hungry Confederates, and if that were impracticable, it would have been at least a noble stroke to have destroyed them. On this head French’s report is silent; nor does he endeavor to explain how it happened that so vital a part of his own program was omitted. In effect, the play had been badly broken up by the attentions of the gallery, and Hamlet had slipped out of it.
French is without excuse for his fear of Sherman’s approach, baseless as we know it to have been. Armstrong is responsible for despatches to him suggesting it. All the same, the evidence is conclusive that French was beaten, that he knew it, and that he had to withdraw quite independently of Sherman’s movements.
A Confederate historian, K. S. Bevier, writes as follows on this point: “The men of French’s Division had now become so much scattered that it was impossible to gather a sufficient number to give any hope of successful assault on the Fort.”
What can wholly be pardoned to French is the unstinted commendation he bestows on the gallantry of his men.
These poor fellows, ragged and hungry, with but a handful or two of parched corn in their haversacks, had marchedall day on the 3rd; had worked all that night destroying the railroad; had worked and marched all day on the 4th; had marched to Allatoona during that night, and had fought nearly all day on the 5th. Nor is it forbidden to those who felt the vigor of their dashing onset and the undaunted determination with which they rallied again and again to the assault of the intrenchments, or who witnessed the hand-to-hand encounters with sword and bayonet, with butts of guns, and even with loose pieces of rock, to appreciate the intrepidity and resolution with which they hung to their bloody and fruitless task.
Brave men may honor bravery the world over. We can in all sympathy and common brotherhood say: “They were of our blood and race. Peace to their ashes. Give us the like to stand side by side with us, and we could fear no quarrel, were it with the whole round world.”
Having glanced at the situation from French’s standpoint, let us step over to the other side, as we may safely do at this lapse of time, and see how it actually fared with the beleaguered garrison which we left in momentary expectation of attack; and since General French has been heard, it is no more than fair to quote from the graphic reports of the federal commander.
After narrating his preliminary movements, and the stations of the troops, he proceeds:
“I directed Col. Rowett to hold the spur on which the 39th Iowa and 7th Illinois were formed, * * * and taking two companies of the 93rd Illinois down a spur parallel with the railroad and along the bank of the cut, so disposed them as to hold the north side as long as possible. Three companies of the 93rd, which had been driven from the west end of the ridge, were distributed in the ditch South of the Redoubt, with instructions to keep the town well covered bytheir fire, and to watch the depot where the rations were stored. The remaining battalion of the 93rd, under Major Fisher, lay between the Redoubt and Rowett’s line, ready to reinforce wherever most needed.“I had barely issued the orders when the storm broke in all its fury on the 39th Iowa and 7th Illinois. Young’s Brigade of Texans had gained the west end of the ridge and moved with great impetuosity along its crest till they struck Rowett’s command, when they received a severe check, but undaunted came again and again. Rowett, reinforced by the gallant Redfield, encouraged me to hope we were safe here, when I observed General Sears’ brigade moving from the North, its left extending across the railroad (opposite Tourtellotte). I rushed to the two companies of the 93rd Illinois, which were on the brink of the cut running north from the Redoubt, they having been reinforced by the retreating pickets, and urged them to hold on to the spur; but it was of no avail; the enemy’s line of battle swept us back like so much chaff, and struck the 39th Iowa in flank, threatening to engulf our little band without further ado. Fortunately for us, Col. Tourtellotte’s fire caught Sears in flank, and broke him so badly as to enable me to get a staff officer over the cut with orders to bring the 50th Illinois over to reinforce Rowett, who had lost very heavily. However, before the regiment sent for could arrive, Sears and Young both rallied, and made their assaults in front and on the flank with so much vigor and in such force as to break Rowett’s line, and had not the 39th Iowa fought with the desperation it did, I never would have been able to get a man back inside the Redoubt; as it was, their hand-to-hand conflict and stubborn stand broke the enemy to that extent that he must stop and reform before undertaking the assault on the fort. Under cover of the blows they gave the enemy, the 7th and 93rd Illinois, and what remained of the 39th Iowa, fell back into the fort.“The fighting up to this time—about 11 a. m.—was of the most extraordinary character. Attacked from the north, from the west and from the south, these three regiments—39th Iowa and 7th and 93rd Illinois—held Young’s and a portion of Sears’ and Cockerell’s brigades at bay for nearly two hours and a half. The gallant Col. Redfield, of the 39th Iowa, fell, shot in four places, and the extraordinary valor of the men and officers of this regiment, and of the 7th Illinois, saved to us Allatoona.“So completely disorganized were the enemy, that no regular assault could be made on the fort till I had the trenches all filled and the parapets lined with men. The 12th and 50th Illinois arriving from the east hill, enabled us to occupy every foot of trench, and keep up a line of fire that, as long as our ammunition lasted, would render our little fort impregnable. The broken pieces of the enemy enabled them to fill every hollow and take every advantage of the rough ground surrounding the fort, filling every hole and trench, seeking shelter behind everystump and log that lay within musket range of the fort. We received their fire from the north, south and west of the Redoubt, completely enfilading our ditches, and rendering it almost impracticable for a man to expose his person above the parapet. An effort was made to carry our works by assault, but the battery (12th Wisconsin) was so ably manned and so gallantly fought as to render it impossible for a column to live within one hundred yards of the work. Officers labored constantly to stimulate the men to exertions, and almost all that were killed or wounded in the fort met their fate while trying to get the men to expose themselves above the parapet and nobly setting them the example.“The enemy kept up a constant and intense fire, gradually closing around us and rapidly filling our little fort with the dead or dying. About 1 p. m. I was wounded by a rifle ball that rendered me insensible for some thirty or forty minutes, but managed to rally on hearing some persons cry, ‘Cease firing,’ which conveyed to me the impression that they were trying to surrender the fort.“Again I urged my staff, the few officers left unhurt, and the men around me, to renewed exertions, assuring them that Sherman would soon be there with reinforcements. The gallant fellows struggled to keep their heads above the ditch and parapet in face of the murderous fire of the enemy, now concentrated upon us. The artillery was silent, and a brave fellow, whose name I regret having forgotten, volunteered to cross the railway cut which was under fire of the enemy and go to the fort on the east hill to procure ammunition. Having executed his mission successfully, he returned in a short time with an arm load of canister and case shot. About 2:30 p. m. the enemy were observed massing a force behind a small house and the ridge on which the house was located distant northwest from the fort about 150 yards. The dead and wounded were moved aside so as to enable us to move a piece of artillery to an embrasure commanding the house and ridge. A few shots from the gun threw the enemy’s column into great confusion, which being observed by our men, caused them to rush to the parapet and open such a heavy and continuous musketry fire that it was impossible for the enemy to rally. From this time until near 4 p. m. we had the advantage of the enemy, and maintained it with such success that they were driven from every position and finally fled in confusion, leaving their dead and wounded, and our little garrison in possession of the field.“The hill east of the cut was gallantly and successfully defended by Col. Tourtellotte, with the 4th Minnesota and a portion of the 18th Wisconsin (which was drawn from outpost duty towards the south about 10:30). * * * Col. Tourtellotte, though wounded in the early part of the action, remained with his men until the close, and rendered valuable aid in protecting my north front from the repeated attacks by Sears’ brigade.”
“I directed Col. Rowett to hold the spur on which the 39th Iowa and 7th Illinois were formed, * * * and taking two companies of the 93rd Illinois down a spur parallel with the railroad and along the bank of the cut, so disposed them as to hold the north side as long as possible. Three companies of the 93rd, which had been driven from the west end of the ridge, were distributed in the ditch South of the Redoubt, with instructions to keep the town well covered bytheir fire, and to watch the depot where the rations were stored. The remaining battalion of the 93rd, under Major Fisher, lay between the Redoubt and Rowett’s line, ready to reinforce wherever most needed.
“I had barely issued the orders when the storm broke in all its fury on the 39th Iowa and 7th Illinois. Young’s Brigade of Texans had gained the west end of the ridge and moved with great impetuosity along its crest till they struck Rowett’s command, when they received a severe check, but undaunted came again and again. Rowett, reinforced by the gallant Redfield, encouraged me to hope we were safe here, when I observed General Sears’ brigade moving from the North, its left extending across the railroad (opposite Tourtellotte). I rushed to the two companies of the 93rd Illinois, which were on the brink of the cut running north from the Redoubt, they having been reinforced by the retreating pickets, and urged them to hold on to the spur; but it was of no avail; the enemy’s line of battle swept us back like so much chaff, and struck the 39th Iowa in flank, threatening to engulf our little band without further ado. Fortunately for us, Col. Tourtellotte’s fire caught Sears in flank, and broke him so badly as to enable me to get a staff officer over the cut with orders to bring the 50th Illinois over to reinforce Rowett, who had lost very heavily. However, before the regiment sent for could arrive, Sears and Young both rallied, and made their assaults in front and on the flank with so much vigor and in such force as to break Rowett’s line, and had not the 39th Iowa fought with the desperation it did, I never would have been able to get a man back inside the Redoubt; as it was, their hand-to-hand conflict and stubborn stand broke the enemy to that extent that he must stop and reform before undertaking the assault on the fort. Under cover of the blows they gave the enemy, the 7th and 93rd Illinois, and what remained of the 39th Iowa, fell back into the fort.
“The fighting up to this time—about 11 a. m.—was of the most extraordinary character. Attacked from the north, from the west and from the south, these three regiments—39th Iowa and 7th and 93rd Illinois—held Young’s and a portion of Sears’ and Cockerell’s brigades at bay for nearly two hours and a half. The gallant Col. Redfield, of the 39th Iowa, fell, shot in four places, and the extraordinary valor of the men and officers of this regiment, and of the 7th Illinois, saved to us Allatoona.
“So completely disorganized were the enemy, that no regular assault could be made on the fort till I had the trenches all filled and the parapets lined with men. The 12th and 50th Illinois arriving from the east hill, enabled us to occupy every foot of trench, and keep up a line of fire that, as long as our ammunition lasted, would render our little fort impregnable. The broken pieces of the enemy enabled them to fill every hollow and take every advantage of the rough ground surrounding the fort, filling every hole and trench, seeking shelter behind everystump and log that lay within musket range of the fort. We received their fire from the north, south and west of the Redoubt, completely enfilading our ditches, and rendering it almost impracticable for a man to expose his person above the parapet. An effort was made to carry our works by assault, but the battery (12th Wisconsin) was so ably manned and so gallantly fought as to render it impossible for a column to live within one hundred yards of the work. Officers labored constantly to stimulate the men to exertions, and almost all that were killed or wounded in the fort met their fate while trying to get the men to expose themselves above the parapet and nobly setting them the example.
“The enemy kept up a constant and intense fire, gradually closing around us and rapidly filling our little fort with the dead or dying. About 1 p. m. I was wounded by a rifle ball that rendered me insensible for some thirty or forty minutes, but managed to rally on hearing some persons cry, ‘Cease firing,’ which conveyed to me the impression that they were trying to surrender the fort.
“Again I urged my staff, the few officers left unhurt, and the men around me, to renewed exertions, assuring them that Sherman would soon be there with reinforcements. The gallant fellows struggled to keep their heads above the ditch and parapet in face of the murderous fire of the enemy, now concentrated upon us. The artillery was silent, and a brave fellow, whose name I regret having forgotten, volunteered to cross the railway cut which was under fire of the enemy and go to the fort on the east hill to procure ammunition. Having executed his mission successfully, he returned in a short time with an arm load of canister and case shot. About 2:30 p. m. the enemy were observed massing a force behind a small house and the ridge on which the house was located distant northwest from the fort about 150 yards. The dead and wounded were moved aside so as to enable us to move a piece of artillery to an embrasure commanding the house and ridge. A few shots from the gun threw the enemy’s column into great confusion, which being observed by our men, caused them to rush to the parapet and open such a heavy and continuous musketry fire that it was impossible for the enemy to rally. From this time until near 4 p. m. we had the advantage of the enemy, and maintained it with such success that they were driven from every position and finally fled in confusion, leaving their dead and wounded, and our little garrison in possession of the field.
“The hill east of the cut was gallantly and successfully defended by Col. Tourtellotte, with the 4th Minnesota and a portion of the 18th Wisconsin (which was drawn from outpost duty towards the south about 10:30). * * * Col. Tourtellotte, though wounded in the early part of the action, remained with his men until the close, and rendered valuable aid in protecting my north front from the repeated attacks by Sears’ brigade.”
A notable struggle truly and stirringly told, even though the limitations of an official report forbid that amplification of incident that would make as thrilling a tale as tongue could utter. From start to finish, seven solid hours of as desperate fighting as ever was done under the sky of heaven, and with multiplied acts of individual heroism that would tax the pen of Homer to narrate.
With the exception of about 250 rounds, the supply of ammunition brought from Rome for the entire Division, had been expended by a portion of a single brigade.
Every one of the subordinate commanders’ reports on both sides bears testimony to the unparalleled fierceness and concentration of the struggle, and the closeness and duration of the action, and the terrific slaughter; and these reports, it may be noted, are made by the ruggedest of Sherman’s and French’s veterans—men inured to war in every aspect, and as familiar with bloody battle-fields as we of to-day with the street we daily tread. In reading these scant records, one scarce knows whether to admire the more the daring vigor and persistence of the attack, or the spirit, valor and heroic determination of the defence. With both it was “To do or die,” and each can feel that none, save his rival, can challenge supremacy in war-like exploit.
Corse’s signal dispatch to Sherman after the fight can therefore well be excused, “I am short a cheek-bone and an ear, but able to whip all h—l yet.”
It is a thousand pities that the many notable incidents of this fight are not on record; but, so far as I am aware, no one has sought to gather them in any complete and authentic form.
Corse caught his wound about 1 o’clock while scanning the movements and position of the enemy from the Redoubt. It was a close call for his life, the ball ploughing his cheek and splitting his ear, and, as might be imagined, dazing him. A surgeon took him in charge and ministered as well as the circumstances permitted. At intervals Corse was unconscious, but rallied from time to time, as though the spirit within him crowded itself up through the physical deadening of his senses. At one of these occasions he caught the words “Cease firing,” and as mentioned in his report, feared some attempt to surrender. On this point, in a private letter, he speaks as follows: “Do you remember our losing a large number of Springfield rifled muskets that exploded near the muzzle after becoming foul from over-shooting? I saw some that had exploded, say about the shank of the bayonet. It was so phenomenal as to make a decided impression on my mind at the time. I think a large number of these must have been lost, and when the order was given to cease firing, it was under the impression that if the men were not given a chance to clean their guns, we would lose them all and be overwhelmed. My impression, you remember, at the time was that the order to cease firing meant surrender, but Rowett removed that impression in subsequent interviews, during and after the war.”
Rowett’s order to “Cease firing” had, of course, nothing to do with the cry of “Surrender.” It is true that there were men in that Redoubt ready to surrender or to do anything else in order to get out of it alive. Happily these were few, and most of them lay prone, close under the parapet, “playing dead,” with the combatants and wounded standing and sitting upon them. If I mistake not, Corse himself, at least for a time, was holding down of these “living corpses” who preferred to endure all the pain and discomfort of hisposition rather than get up and face the deadly music that filled the air with leaden notes. It came about this way: The Redoubt was crowded, and as bloody as a slaughter pen. In its actual construction the parapet encircled a higher elevation in the center, which had not been sufficiently excavated, so that a man standing, or in fact, lying, in the middle of the work was exposed to bullets coming in close over the parapet. It was absolutely necessary to keep room for the fighting force along the parapet, so the wounded were drawn back, and in some cases were shot over and over again. The dead were disposed of in the same way, except that as the ground became covered with them they were let lie as they fell, and were stood or sat upon by the fighters. Several of the “skulkers” lay among these, but a few were in the ranks. The slaughter had been frightful. One of our guns was disabled from the jamming of a shot, and we were out of ammunition for the other two, thereby losing both the deterrent effect upon the enemy, and the moral encouragement that the friendly roar of cannon always gives to infantry in action. I recall distinctly the fact that a regimental flagstaff on the parapet, which had been several times shot away, fell again at a critical moment towards the end of the action. There was a mad yell from our friends outside and a few cries of “Surrender” among our own people, but a brave fellow leaped to the summit of the parapet, where it did not seem possible to live for a single second, grasped the flagstaff, waved it, drove the stump into the parapet, and dropped back again unhurt. Of course nobody knows the name of that man, but his action restored confidence, and a great Yankee cheer drowned the tumult, and no cry of “Surrender” was afterwards heard.
What saved us that day—among forty other things—was the fact that we had a number of Henry rifles (16-shooters),since improved and known as “Winchesters.” These were new guns in those days, and Rowett, as I remember, had held in reserve a company of an Illinois Regiment that was armed with them until a final assault should be made. When the artillery reopened, after the incident related by Corse of the man crossing the cut and coming back with an armful of case shot, this company of 16-shooters sprang to the parapet and poured out such a multiplied, rapid, and deadly fire that no men could stay in front of it, and no serious effort was thereafter made to take the fort by assault.
It is not possible, within any reasonable limits, for a paper already too long for your patience, to undertake the recital of the numerous thrilling incidents. One may be mentioned:
An artillery sergeant, whose gun was at first stationed outside the fort behind an exterior parapet, was driven in by the rush of the enemy, and his men being all killed, he had to abandon it. Wounded himself in several places, he came into the Redoubt, frothing with rage at the loss of his piece, and demanded a crew of volunteers to go out with him and get it. Notwithstanding the deadly fire, he got them, and in three minutes was back with his recovered prize with more wounds to his account. A bloodier man was never seen, but he kept at his work, loading and firing, until a musket ball passed through his neck, and he dropped dead. The same ball traversed the body of an Iowa officer, with whom I was standing further back, and then struck me with force enough to take my breath. That ball had killed two men, and I preserved it with the name and date of the battle scratched on its but slightly distorted surface.
On Tourtellotte’s side a grim war comedy was enacted. The remains of two Mississippi Regiments—the 35th and 39th of Sears’ brigade, that had charged with desperation,found themselves as the surge of battle that broke upon the hill went back, lodged in a sheltered depression of the north front, whence they could move neither up nor down without concentrating upon themselves the fire of Tourtellotte’s whole front. Unable to determine what course to take, they remained where they were to think it over, and Tourtellotte, observing their embarrassment, thoughtfully sent a portion of the 4th Minnesota to their rescue and invited them to come in. One field and several line officers and 80 men with the colors of the two regiments were the reward of the Yankee courtesy.
After the fight was over we thankfully emerged from the shambles and went out to survey the field. The dead, the dying and the wounded lay everywhere. The ditches immediately outside the Redoubt were crammed with corpses. There were dead rebels within 100 feet of the work, and they were piled in stacks near the house where they had massed for the final assault which was never made, against the reopened artillery, and the rattle of the Henry rifles. But the appalling center of the tragedy was the pit in which lay the heroes of the 39th Iowa and the 7th Illinois. Such a sight probably was never before presented to the eye of heaven. There is no language to describe it. With all the glad reaction of feeling after the prolonged strain of that mortal day, and the exultant surge of victory that swelled our hearts, it was difficult to stand on the verge of that open grave without a rush of tears to the eye and a spasm of pity clutching at the throat. The trench was crowded with the dead, blue and homespun, Yank and Johnny, inextricably mingled in their last ditch. Our heroes, ordered to hold the place to the last, with supreme fidelity, had died at their posts. As the rebel line run over them, they struck up with their bayonets as the foe struck down, and rolling together in theembrace of death, we found them in some cases mutually transfixed. The theme cannot be dwelt upon.
For relief, take another one, so unique in the circumstances that I doubt at times my own recollection of it. It was in the morning when French first gained the west end of the ridge. The 93rd Illinois was in the vicinity of the outworks, a quarter of a mile or so from the Redoubt. I had been reconnoitering the ground, and the rebel column charged us sharply and without warning. We ran, of course, but in passing through or rather over an old work of low relief, one of our men stooped, grabbed a brick and turned. Curiosity overcame discretion, and I had to look. He threw the brick straight as a bullet at a rebel running toward us, and if I may be believed, the brick caught the man full in the face, and he went down like a log.
One more incident, and I am done. After the battle the wounded of both sides were collected, housed and cared for. One of the surgeons invited me to come to the hospital with him, and on the way said he had a wounded woman there. I expressed surprise, and he said: “See if you can pick her out.” We went through the hospital, and I saw no woman, but passing through again on the way back, the doctor stopped at a bed where a tanned and freckled young rebel, hands and face grimy with dirt and powder, lay resting on an elbow, smoking a corn-cob pipe. The doctor inquired, “How do you feel?” and the answer was, “Pretty well, but my leg hurts like the devil.” As we turned, the doctor said, “That is the woman,” and told me that she belonged to the Missouri Brigade, had had a husband and one or two brothers in one of the regiments, and followed them to the war. When they were all killed, having no home but the regiment, she took a musket and served in the ranks. Like an actor of the old Greek dramas, war has its two masks of tragedyand comedy, although it is difficult at times to determine to which the antiphonal scene belongs—so of this case. It is perhaps not proper in such a paper as this to expose or call attention to the shifts to which the Confederates were forced to fill their ranks, but the incident may be told nevertheless.
The stores which had cost such heroic endeavor and expenditure of life, were saved; the stores, which, as Corse says in a private letter, “would have been such a prize as Hood in all his long and bloody career as a soldier had never secured.” This fact is due, independently of the main action, largely to the coolness and vigilance of Tourtellotte, who in addition to fighting Sears on his north front and flanking the attacks on the west Redoubt, kept his mind charged with the protection of the warehouses, even while his wound forced him to physical inaction. As has been stated, he pushed out the 18th Wisconsin to the southward to hold back the two regiments which were in front of the rebel batteries, and only withdrew them at 10:30 when the assaulting column had reached a point in front of the west Redoubt, whence it had a fire upon the rear of the outlying command. ThereafterTourtellottekept a wary eye out towards the stores, with men in his southern rifle pit and its vicinity constantly on guard, and cautioned to unceasing vigilance, and although several attempts were made by individuals and small parties to reach the warehouses and fire them, they died on the way and none of them ever attained their destination. We found several bodies scattered about in the vicinity, and one of them within 20 feet of the buildings, with the implements in his hand for firing them.
As to the amount of these stores, General Sherman, in his Memoirs, says there were “over a million rations ofbread,” probably with Corse’s report at hand, in which the number is incorrectly stated at that amount. Cox, in his “Atlanta,” gives it more accurately at “nearly three millions.” The actual figures (2,700,000) are given in a letter from Sherman to Corse in acknowledging, on October 7th, Corse’s preliminary report of the same day.
Corse’s losses in this battle, from the full official records, were 142 killed, 352 wounded, and omitting those captured at the block house two miles away, 128 prisoners; a total loss of 622—nearly one-third his entire command.
French in his report estimates that he had killed and wounded 750, and captured 205—which, with the block house prisoners, would make a total loss inflicted on Corse of over 1000, which is over 50 per cent. too much.
French’s losses are not known. With his report he gives a tabulated list of casualties by brigades, which shows footings of 122 killed, 443 wounded and 243 missing—a total of 799. Sears, however, whose report of casualties is the only one accessible to me, reports in his brigade alone a total loss of 425—as against 351 attributed to him in French’s schedule, which is an increase of 21 per cent. Young and Cockerell must have lost at least as heavily as Sears, and having charged our line repeatedly and had several encounters at close quarters, probably more so. Allowing for these facts, it is perhaps nearer correct to increase French’s statement of loss by 25 per cent., which would make it almost exactly 1000 men. As Corse actually buried 231 rebel dead, captured 411 prisoners, well and wounded, and picked up 800 stand of arms, and as French left behind him, according to his own account, only those of his wounded who needed litters tomove them, we must add to the 644 rebels accounted for by Corse at least 400 or 500 wounded who got away when French left, or previously. French’s total loss could not have been much less than 1100 or 1200.
The number of troops with him cannot be determined. He gives it as “but little over 2000 men,” in which case he lost more than half his entire number, but he omits three regiments as forming no part of the assaulting column. He refers to those supporting the artillery, but these men were in the engagement, kept the 18th Wisconsin in their front, and French thanks their leader, Col. Andrews, “who commanded on the south side,” and Major Myrick, who commanded the artillery. French’s field report for Sept. 24th showed “Present for Duty” 331 officers and 2945 men; an “Effective Present” of 3626, and an “Aggregate Present” of 4347. He probably had not less than 3000 with him at Allatoona engaged in action, in which case his total loss was proportionally the same as ours, viz., about one-third.
On the morning of the 7th Corse sent me down to Kenesaw to take his report to Sherman, and supplement the gaps in the information which his wound forbade elaborating. As I reached the summit of the mountain, conscious of bearing welcome and important tidings of great joy, and considering what special form Sherman’s delight might take, I found him surrounded by a group of generals and staff scanning with binoculars the long clouds of dust that, rising above the forest to the westward, betokened a great movement of troops. It was Hood en route northward. As Sherman turned and saw me, his greeting was, “Hello! How’s Corse?” I answered that he was doing very well, and Sherman glancedover the report which I handed him, and inquired, “Pretty hot, wasn’t it?” and without waiting for an answer, said, “I knew it was all right when Corse got there; I’ll write him presently.” As I stood, anxiously waiting an invitation to unbosom myself of the accumulated information that it wearied me to carry, he turned back to take another look at Hood, and some one asked, “General, what do you think Hood is going to do?” Sherman replied, with an outburst of irritation, “How the devil can I tell? If it were Joe Johnston now—Johnston was a sensible man and did sensible things. Hood is a d—d fool and is liable to do anything.” This view of his antagonist is, it will be observed, paraphrased in his letter to Corse, written immediately after, into “Hood is eccentric,” but his off-hand response was substantially as I have given it.
My interview was over. Nor since that time, until this evening, have I had a chance to “unload.”
This practically closes the sketch of Allatoona. I can only hope that it will avail to furnish some material for a proper history of that memorable affair.
Sherman published his congratulatory Special Field Orders, No. 86, dated Oct. 7th, proclaiming the vital military principle that fortified points must always be defended to the last, regardless of numbers, declaring the “effusion of blood” at Allatoona not “useless,” as the position “was and is very important to present and future operations,” and thanking Corse and Tourtellotte and their men for their determined and gallant defence.
Just how important to his future operations was thesuccessful defence of Allatoona may be judged from what followed.
October 9th Sherman telegraphed to Grant with renewed urgency that the march to Savannah must be made, and stated, to show his preparation, “We have on hand over 8000 head of cattle and three million rations of bread.”
In other words, the Allatoona stores, 2,700,000 rations, were practically all he had.
Sherman impatiently chased Hood northward, seeking to corner and devour him. But Hood, living off the country and traveling light, could go two miles to Sherman’s one, and there was no catching him. Weary of the harassing and fruitless hunt, Sherman insisted that his March to Savannah be not delayed, and on Oct. 19th to be in readiness for it, telegraphed his chief commissary at Atlanta, “Have on hand 30 days’ food.” Say, 1,800,000 rations, two-thirds of the Allatoona stores, which were supplies for 60,000 men for 45 days.
November 2nd Grant for the first time authorized the March.
Sherman abandoned Hood to his own devices, and the unhappy rebel leader, pressing northward, was heavily thrown in his encounter with Schofield at Franklin, and finally dashed himself to pieces against the “Rock of Chicamauga,” the noble George H. Thomas, lying vigilant within the defences of Nashville, and like an old lion, silently licking his chops as he watched his prey draw nigh.
November 12th Sherman, having stripped his railroad, cut the telegraph wires that no message of delay might reach him, loaded his teams, marched his 60,000 men for Savannah, and, although he “lived off the country,” got there with empty wagons.
With Hood and Forrest in his rear and on his railroad, how was he to accumulate a fresh store of provision, and what would have become of the “March to the Sea” if Allatoona had been lost?
WILLIAM LUDLOW.