down every tree in Georgia to block every road he can use. Any other suggestions, Captain?”
Seeley felt the stares again, wanted to shrink away.
Dibrell spoke up now, standing tall beside him. “He’s my man, General. Good fighter, certain to lead a division one day. Allow me to lead his men toward Augusta. We shall do all that is possible to prevent any harm from coming to your homestead.”
Wheeler ignored Dibrell, paced again. “Return to your camps. Seek information from the slaves, from any citizens who might have seen or heard something important. Gather rations, wagons, do what you can for the health of your mounts. Find ammunition, and sharpen your sabers. Until someone decides to assist us with a few thousand troops, we’re the army in this place. Let’s find the enemy.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHERMAN
NEAR COVINGTON, GEORGIA—NOVEMBER 17, 1864
The army will forage liberally on the country during the march. To this end, each brigade commander will organize a good and sufficient foraging party, under the command of one or more discreet officers, who will gather, near the route traveled, corn or forage of any kind, meat of any kind, vegetables, corn meal, or whatever is needed by the command….Soldiers must not enter the dwellings of the inhabitants or commit any trespass….
T he army responded to Sherman’s order with complete enthusiasm, every unit now offering up those men who were called
bummers
, every brigade commander designating those few soldiers whose job would be to move out far from the column, ahead or to the side, for the sole purpose of locating food and forage for the army. It was the only logic that made sense to Sherman: Even if the enemy made little effort to impede progress, if the army was to survive long enough to reach the coast they would have to live off the land. This part of Georgia was lush, fertile, with vast farms and plantations where slaves toiled, where cattle and hogs had been gathered into enormous pens, and barns and pantries were full. It was one of those nagging worries, and Sherman knew that Grant had asked the same question, the most important question this army would ask itself: How would they eat?
The army brought cattle from the farms around Atlanta, several thousand head, along with those wagons Sherman had authorized, filled with whatever grain and corn they had pulled from close to the city. But Sherman had no expectation that anything they carried with them would last long enough for the kind of campaign he expected. He knew soldiers too well, that no matter the orders, a man given five days of rations would consume most of that in a single day. If the commissary officers believed the army carried a month’s worth of food, Sherman knew it could be gone in a week. And even more important, none of those calculations had made any allowance for possible raids by rebel cavalry. Sherman had seen the cost of those raids firsthand, as far back as the planning for the assault against Vicksburg.Grant’s entire strategy had been delayed for months by a raid against the enormous depot the Federal army had created at Holly Springs, Mississippi. The loss of supplies had totaled in the millions of dollars, damaging Grant’s reputation in Washington. It had been carelessness, poor preparation and poorer performance by men who were charged with protecting such a valuable part of the army’s offensive. This time there were no such depots, the lesson learned not just by Holly Springs, but by the ferociousness of rebel cavalry in every place Sherman had traveled. He knew it was certain to continue, mostly where the rebel army was pushing forward an offensive of its own, Hood’s men driving northward toward Nashville. But that was a very long way from where Sherman was now, and farther still from his intended targets. In his wake would be nothing like Holly Springs, or Johnsonville. There were no stagnant depots to invite rebel cavalry at all. The wagon trains that trailed each
Seeley felt the stares again, wanted to shrink away.
Dibrell spoke up now, standing tall beside him. “He’s my man, General. Good fighter, certain to lead a division one day. Allow me to lead his men toward Augusta. We shall do all that is possible to prevent any harm from coming to your homestead.”
Wheeler ignored Dibrell, paced again. “Return to your camps. Seek information from the slaves, from any citizens who might have seen or heard something important. Gather rations, wagons, do what you can for the health of your mounts. Find ammunition, and sharpen your sabers. Until someone decides to assist us with a few thousand troops, we’re the army in this place. Let’s find the enemy.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHERMAN
NEAR COVINGTON, GEORGIA—NOVEMBER 17, 1864
The army will forage liberally on the country during the march. To this end, each brigade commander will organize a good and sufficient foraging party, under the command of one or more discreet officers, who will gather, near the route traveled, corn or forage of any kind, meat of any kind, vegetables, corn meal, or whatever is needed by the command….Soldiers must not enter the dwellings of the inhabitants or commit any trespass….
T he army responded to Sherman’s order with complete enthusiasm, every unit now offering up those men who were called
bummers
, every brigade commander designating those few soldiers whose job would be to move out far from the column, ahead or to the side, for the sole purpose of locating food and forage for the army. It was the only logic that made sense to Sherman: Even if the enemy made little effort to impede progress, if the army was to survive long enough to reach the coast they would have to live off the land. This part of Georgia was lush, fertile, with vast farms and plantations where slaves toiled, where cattle and hogs had been gathered into enormous pens, and barns and pantries were full. It was one of those nagging worries, and Sherman knew that Grant had asked the same question, the most important question this army would ask itself: How would they eat?
The army brought cattle from the farms around Atlanta, several thousand head, along with those wagons Sherman had authorized, filled with whatever grain and corn they had pulled from close to the city. But Sherman had no expectation that anything they carried with them would last long enough for the kind of campaign he expected. He knew soldiers too well, that no matter the orders, a man given five days of rations would consume most of that in a single day. If the commissary officers believed the army carried a month’s worth of food, Sherman knew it could be gone in a week. And even more important, none of those calculations had made any allowance for possible raids by rebel cavalry. Sherman had seen the cost of those raids firsthand, as far back as the planning for the assault against Vicksburg.Grant’s entire strategy had been delayed for months by a raid against the enormous depot the Federal army had created at Holly Springs, Mississippi. The loss of supplies had totaled in the millions of dollars, damaging Grant’s reputation in Washington. It had been carelessness, poor preparation and poorer performance by men who were charged with protecting such a valuable part of the army’s offensive. This time there were no such depots, the lesson learned not just by Holly Springs, but by the ferociousness of rebel cavalry in every place Sherman had traveled. He knew it was certain to continue, mostly where the rebel army was pushing forward an offensive of its own, Hood’s men driving northward toward Nashville. But that was a very long way from where Sherman was now, and farther still from his intended targets. In his wake would be nothing like Holly Springs, or Johnsonville. There were no stagnant depots to invite rebel cavalry at all. The wagon trains that trailed each
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