Chapter II: Part 2

"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."

INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE.

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 his position 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 the embrace 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 tragedy and 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 SAVED.

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. Thereafter Tourtellotte kept 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 of bread," 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.

THE LOSSES.

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 to move 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.

REPORTING TO SHERMAN.

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 glanced over 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."

CONCLUSION.

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 the successful 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.

Transcriber's Notes:

Passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_.

The following misprints have been corrected:
"Chatahooche" corrected to "Chattahooche" (page 10)
"VINCINITY" corrected to "VICINITY" (illustration "Allatoona and Vicinity")
"ocntrast" corrected to "contrast" (page 19)
"The The" corrected to "The" (page 21)
"succeesfully" corrected to "successfully" (page 24)
"Tourtellottee" corrected to "Tourtellotte" (page 37)