As regards the "hideous threat implied" in my note, it has been left to the hero of Allatoona to discover it for the first time, although the like and similar expressions have been used by many commanders in the years long past, and escaped the critical acumen of those to whom they were sent to find an implied threat therein.
No one except Ludlow, so far as I am aware, has ever published that Maj. Sanders was fired on by Corse's soldiers when approaching under a flag of truce. I made it known on an inclosure in my official report.
Adjutant Hedley says "the heroic defense of Allatoona is almost as famous as the 'charge of the Light Brigade,' and far more momentous in its results."
There was nothing momentous pending on it. It was Hood's ignorance of the enemy's position that caused the battle; it should never have been made. We had nothing to gain; we would not remain there, nor had I any means to carry stores away with me. It is well known what Hood ordered us to do: "fill up the Allatoona cut, and burn the bridge over the Etowah river," and join him on the 6th.
I here repeat that the one million rations of bread in Allatoona were not a factor in Sherman's march to Savannah. He refused to repair the railroad we had destroyed, and sent the rations north of the Etowah. Subsequently, however, he did put the road in condition so as to send the sick and wounded, etc., north from Atlanta. The war records show he had in Atlanta 3,000,000 rations and eight thousand beeves. For 65,000 men eighteen days were required 1,170,000 rations. On the march the most difficult problem Sherman had to solve was what to do with his superabundant rations.
Let us examine Hedley on this question. He writes, first: The regular commissaries and quartermasters foraged for the regular commands off the country; but "under the color of the license given by Sherman's orders every regiment in the army sent out an independent foraging party, whose duty it was to see that its particular command was furnished with all the DELICACIES the country afforded. These men were the most venturesome in the army;" they "took great risks and experienced startling adventures.... If the negroes told the bummers stories of cruelty they had suffered, or hostility to the Union, etc., the injury was avenged by the torch." So on the twaddle of negroes these bummers, acting as judges, without appeal, executed their own sentences.
The rehearsal of these scenes afforded amusement in Washington, and "Marching through Georgia" is still a favorite hymn to the sanctimonious people who delight in cruelty to innocent women and little children.
"The bummer was a wily diplomat and learned all that was to be known of the neighbor farther down the road whom he expected to raid the next day.... The bummer drew a line between the rich and the poor."
Speaking of one bummer, as an example of others, he writes: "About midnight his voice was heard arousing the camp; he had six animals, horses and mules, strung together with a motley improvised harness made of odds and ends.... He bestrode one of the wheelers, and swayed in the saddle from the effects of apple-jack; his wagon was an immense box of the Tennessee pattern, high at each end, low in the middle, similar to an old Dutch galiot, loaded to the guards with the choicest of wines and liquors; and by chance there was in the cargo a box of glass goblets.... Samples of the wines were sent to corps headquarters, pronounced excellent, with the intimation that a further supply would be acceptable, etc.," and so on the chapter reads to the end.
The bummers generally obliged the negroes to improvise teams, and in wagons brought their stealings into camp. "They ranged over a section between sixty to eighty miles in breadth." (Page 272.) The writer pursues a middle line: he tells us nothing about the distress of the thousands of women and children left homeless by these cruel wretches, nor does he see any of watches, plate, and jewelry stolen; and now here we are, in the last years of the century, told by the "Grand Army of the Republic" that we must not tell any of these matters to our children in our school histories.