demoralized remnant of Cheatham's corps
facing the whole Yankee army. I have ever thought that Sherman was a
poor general, not to have captured Hood and his whole army at that time.
But it matters not what I thought, as I am not trying to tell the ifs and
ands, but only of what I saw. In a word, we had everything against us.
The soldiers distrusted everything. They were broken down with their
long days' hard marching--were almost dead with hunger and fatigue.
Every one was taking his own course, and wishing and praying to be
captured. Hard and senseless marching, with little sleep, half rations,
and lice, had made their lives a misery. Each one prayed that all this
foolishness might end one way or the other. It was too much for human
endurance. Every private soldier knew that such things as this could not
last. They were willing to ring down the curtain, put out the footlights
and go home. There was no hope in the future for them.

THEN COMES THE FARCE

From this time forward until the close of the war, everything was a farce
as to generalship. The tragedy had been played, the glory of war had
departed. We all loved Hood; he was such a clever fellow, and a good man.

Well, Yank, why don't you come on and take us? We are ready to play
quits now. We have not anything to let you have, you know; but you can
parole us, you know; and we'll go home and be good boys, you know;--
good Union boys, you know; and we'll be sorry for the war, you know;
and we wouldn't have the negroes in any way, shape, form, or fashion,
you know; and the American continent has no north, no south, no east,
no west--boohoo, boohoo, boohoo.

Tut, tut, Johnny; all that sounds tolerable nice, but then you might
want some favor from Uncle Sam, and the teat is too full of milk at the
present time for us to turn loose. It's a sugar teat, Johnny, and just
begins to taste sweet; and, besides, Johnny, once or twice you have put
us to a little trouble; we haven't forgot that; and we've got you down
now--our foot is on your neck, and you must feel our boot heel. We want
to stamp you a little--"that's what's the matter with Hannah." And,
Johnny, you've fought us hard. You are a brave boy; you are proud and
aristocratic, Johnny, and we are going to crush your cursed pride and
spirit. And now, Johnny, come here; I've something to whisper in your
ear. Hold your ear close down here, so that no one can hear: "We want
big fat offices when the w