Gentleman: I have your
letter of the 11th, in the nature of a petition to revoke my orders
removing all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it carefully, and
give full credit to your statements of distress that will be occasioned,
and yet shall not revoke my orders, because they were not designed to
meet the humanities of the cause, but to prepare for the future
struggles in which millions of good people outside of Atlanta have a
deep interest. We must have peace, not only at Atlanta, but in
all America. To secure this, we must stop the war that now desolates our
once happy and favored country. To stop war, we must defeat the rebel
armies which are arrayed against the laws and Constitution that all must
respect and obey. To defeat those armies, we must prepare the way to
reach them in their recesses, provided with the arms and instruments
which enable us to accomplish our purpose. Now, I know the vindictive
nature of our enemy, that we may have many years of military operations
from this quarter; and, therefore, deem it wise and prudent to prepare
in time. The use of Atlanta for warlike purposes in inconsistent with
its character as a home for families. There will be no manufacturers,
commerce, or agriculture here, for the maintenance of families, and
sooner or later want will compel the inhabitants to go. Why not go
now, when all the arrangements are completed for the transfer,
instead of waiting till the plunging shot of contending armies will
renew the scenes of the past month? Of course, I do not apprehend any
such things at this moment, but you do not suppose this army will be
here until the war is over. I cannot discuss this subject with you
fairly, because I cannot impart to you what we propose to do, but I
assert that our military plans make it necessary for the inhabitants to
go away, and I can only renew my offer of services to make their exodus
in any direction as easy and comfortable as possible.
You cannot qualify war
in harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it;
and those who brought war into our country deserve all the curses and
maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this
war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to-day than any of you to
secure peace. But you cannot have peace and a division of our country.
If the United States submits to a division now, it will not stop, but
will go on until we reap the fate of Mexico, which is eternal war. The
United States does and must assert its authority, wherever it once had
power; for, if it relaxes one bit to pressure, it is gone, and I believe
that such is the national feeling. This feeling assumes various shapes,
but always comes back to that of Union. Once admit the Union, once more
acknowledge the authority of the national Government, and, instead of
devoting your houses and streets and roads to the dread uses of war, I
and this army become at once your protectors and supporters, shielding
you from danger, let it come from what quarter it may. I know that a few
individuals cannot resist a torrent of error and passion, such as swept
the South into rebellion, but you can point out, so that we may know
those who desire a government, and those who insist on war and its
desolation.
You might as well appeal
against the thunder-storm as against these terrible hardships of war.
They are inevitable, and the only way the people of Atlanta can hope
once more to live in peace and quiet at home, is to stop the war, which
can only be done by admitting that it began in error and is perpetuated
in pride.
We don't want your
Negroes, or your horses, or your lands, or any thing you have, but we do
want and will have a just obedience to the laws of the United States.
That we will have, and if it involved the destruction of your
improvements, we cannot help it.
You have heretofore read
public sentiment in your newspapers, that live by falsehood and
excitement; and the quicker you seek for truth in other quarters, the
better. I repeat then that, bu the original compact of government, the
United States had certain rights in Georgia, which have never been
relinquished and never will be; that the South began the war by seizing
forts, arsenals, mints, custom-houses, etc., etc., long before Mr.
Lincoln was installed, and before the South had one jot or title of
provocation. I myself have seen in Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, and
Mississippi, hundreds and thousands of women and children fleeing from
your armies and desperadoes, hungry and with bleeding feet. In Memphis,
Vicksburg, and Mississippi, we fed thousands and thousands of the
families of rebel soldiers left on our hands, and whom we could not see
starve. Now that war comes to you, you feel very different. You
deprecate its horrors, but did not feel them when you sent car-loads of
soldiers and ammunition, and molded shells and shot, to carry war into
Kentucky and Tennessee, to desolate the homes of hundreds and thousands
of good people who only asked to live in peace at their old homes, and
under the Government of their inheritance. But these comparisons are
idle. I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through union and
war, and I will ever conduct war with a view to perfect an early
success.
But, my dear sirs, when
peace does come, you may call on me for any thing. Then will I share
with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and
families against danger from every quarter.
Now you must go, and take
with you the old and feeble, feed and nurse them, and build for them, in
more quiet places, proper habitations to shield them against the weather
until the mad passions of men cool down, and allow the Union and peace
once more to settle over your old homes in Atlanta. Yours in haste, |
