"'Oh, Lord! my spirits! Don't take it, gentlemen officers, I must have a morning dram, and it's all I've got. Let me keep the spirits.'
"'You old d——l!' exclaimed the Captain, as he eyed him savagely, 'spirits have made all the trouble in the country. Yes, sir. Bad whiskey and worse preaching of false spiritual doctrines, such as slavery being a Divine institution, and what not, started the Rebellion, and keep it up. Spirits are contraband of war, just as Ben Butler says niggers are, and we'll confiscate it'—here the Captain gave me a sly look—'in the name and by the authority of the President of the United States. Major, where's your canteens?'
"I produced three that had been slung under my cape, and the Captain as many more.
"As the old Rebel saw the preparations he groaned out, 'My God! and only four inches in the barrel George! mind, the barrel in the corner.'
"Knowing the darkie would be all right, we followedunder pretty stiff loads, the old man bringing up the rear, staggering to the door and getting down the steps on his hands and knees.
"The Captain tasted both barrels. One in a corner was commissary that the darkie said 'Massa had dickered for just the day afore.' The other was well nigh empty. George, old as he was, had the steadiest hands, and he filled the canteens one by one, closing their mouths on the cedar spigot. As he did it, he whispered, 'Dis'll make de ole nigger feel good. Massa gets flustered on dis and 'buses de ole wimin. De commissary fotches him—can't hurt nuffin wid dat.'
"'There's devilish little to fluster him now,' said the Captain, as he tipped the barrel to fill the last canteen.
"The old man had stuck at the bottom of the steps. George fairly carried him up, and he lay almost helpless on the floor.
"'That last toast,' said the Captain, as we left the room, 'will knock any Rebel.'
"George held the horses, and I rather guess steadied our legs as we got on, well loaded with apple juice inside and out. The Captain's spurs sent the black mare off at a gallop, over rocks and bushes, and he left me far behind in a jiffy. But I did in earnest act as an aid before we got to camp. I found him near the place where we turn in, fast between two scrub oaks, swearing like a trooper at the pickets, as he called the bushes, for arresting him, and unable to get backward or forward. His swearing saved him that clip, as it was dark, and I would have gone past if I hadn't heard it."
"I move the adoption of the report, with the thanks of the meeting to Major-General Franklin and hisgenuine Aid," said the Adjutant, after a stiff drink all around.
"I move that it be referred back for report on the Commissary," said a Lieutenant, after another equally stiff round.
The Adjutant would not withdraw his motion,—no chairman to preserve order,—brandy good,—drinks frequent, and in the confusion that ensued we close the chapter, remarking only that the Commissary was spared to the old Rebel, through an order to march at four next morning, that came to hand near midnight.
end of chapter decoration
The March to Warrenton—Secesh Sympathy and Quarter-Master's Receipts—Middle-Borough—The Venerable Uncle Ned and his Story of the Captain of the Tigers—The Adjutant on Strategy—Red-Tapism and Mac-Napoleonism—Movement Stopped—Division Head-Quarters out of Whiskey—Stragglers and Marauders—A Summary Proceeding—Persimmons and Picket-Duty—A Rebellious Pig—McClellanism.
The order to march at four meant moving at six, as was not unfrequently the case, the men being too often under arms by the hour shivering for the step, while the Staff Officers who issued the orders were snoozing in comfortable blankets. Be the cause what it might that morning, the soldiers probably did not regret it, as it gave them opportunity to see the lovely valley of the Shenandoah exposed to their view for the last time, as the fog gradually lifted before the rays of the rising sun. The Shenandoah, like a silver thread broken by intervening foliage, lay at their feet. Far to the right, miles distant, was Charlestown, where old John's soul, appreciative of the beauties of nature at the dread hour of execution, seeing in them doubtless the handiwork of nature's God, exclaimed "This is indeed a beautiful country." In the front, dim in the distance, was Winchester, readily discovered by the bold mountain spur in its rear. Smaller villages dotted the valley, variegatedby fields and woods—all rebellious cities of the plain, nests of treason and granaries of food for traitors. A blind mercy that, on the part of the Administration, that procured its almost total exemption from the despoiling hand of war.
Some in the ranks on Snicker's Summit that fine morning could remember the impudent Billingsgate of look and tongue with which Mrs. Faulkner would fling in their faces a general pass, from a wagon loaded with garden truck for traitors in arms at Bunker Hill—but an instance of long continued good-nature, to use a mild phrase, of the many that have characterized our movements in the field. Well does the great discerner of the desires of men as well as delineator of the movements of their passions, make Crook Richard on his foully usurped and tottering throne exclaim,
"War must be brief when traitors brave the field."
"War must be brief when traitors brave the field."
At a later day, in a holier cause, the line remains an axiom. Nor at the time of which we write was the policy much changed. While all admit the necessity, for the preservation of proper discipline, of having Rebel property for the use of the army taken formally under authorities duly constituted for the purpose, and not by indiscriminate license to the troops, none can be so blind as to fail to see the bent of the sympathies controlling the General in command. During the march to Middle-Borough, horses were taken along the route to supply deficiencies in the teams, and forage for their use, but in all cases the women who claimed to represent absent male owners—absent doubtless in arms—and who made no secret of their own Rebel inclinations, received Quarter-Master's receipts for their full value—generally, in fact, theirown valuation. These receipts were understood to be presently payable. The interests of justice and our finances would have been much better subserved had their payment been conditioned upon the loyalty of the owner. A different policy would not have comported, however, with that which at an earlier day placed Lee's mansion on the Peninsula under double guard, and when you give it the in that case sorry merit of consistency, its best excuse is given.
Beyond some lives lost by a force of Regulars who ventured too near the river without proper precautions the day after we occupied the Gap, and the loss of a Regimental head-quarters wagon, loaded with the officers' baggage, broken down upon a road on which the exhorting Colonel, after deliberate survey, had set his heart as the safest of roads from the Summit, nothing of note occurred during the stay. Our evacuation of the Gap was almost immediately followed by Rebel occupation.
The statement that nothing of note occurred may, perhaps, be doing injustice to our little Dutch Doctor, who had the best of reasons for remembering the morning of our departure from Snicker's Summit. To the Doctor the mountain, with its rocks, seemed familiar ground. A Tyrolese by birth, he loved to talk of his mountain home and sing its lively airs. But that sweet home had one disadvantage. Their beasts of draught and burden were oxen, and the only horse in the village was a cart-horse owned by the Doctor's father. Of necessity, therefore, his horsemanship was defective, an annoying affair in the army. Many officers and men were desirous of seeing the Doctor mount and ride his newly purchased horse, and the Doctor was quite as anxious to evade observation. His saddle was on and blankets strapped ashe surveyed the beast, now passing to this side and now to that, giving wide berth to heels that never kicked, and with his servant at hand, waiting until the last files of the Regiment had disappeared in the woods below. Not unobserved, however, for two of the Field and Staff had selected a clump of scrub pines close at hand for the purpose of witnessing the movement. A rock near by served him as a stand from which to mount. The horse was brought up, and the Doctor, after patting his head and rubbing his neck to assure himself of the good intentions of the animal, cautiously took his place in the saddle and adjusted his feet in the stirrups.
The animal moved off quietly enough, until the Doctor, to increase his speed, touched him in the flank with his spur, when the novel sensation to the beast had the effect of producing a sudden flank movement, which resulted in the instant precipitation of the Doctor upon his back among the rocks and rough undergrowth. The horse stood quietly; there was no movement of the bushes among which the Doctor fell, and the mirth of the observers changed to fear lest an accident of a serious nature had occurred. The officers and servant rushed to the spot. Fortunately the fall had been broken somewhat by the bushes, but nevertheless plainly audible groans in Dutch escaped him, and when aware of the presence of the observers, exclamations in half broken English as to what the result might have been. The actual result was that the horse was forthwith condemned as "no goot" by the Doctor; an ambulance sent for, and necessity for the first time made him take a seat during the march in that vehicle, a practice disgracefully common among army surgeons. The horse in charge of the servant followed, but was everafter used as a pack. No amount of persuasion, even when way-worn and foot-sore from the march, could induce the Doctor to remount his charger.
Middle-Borough, a pretty place near the Bull Run Range of mountains, was reached about ten o'clock in the forenoon of the day after leaving the Gap. After the first Bull Run battle the place was made use of, as indeed were all the towns as far up the country as Martinsburg, as a Rebel hospital. Some of the inmates in butternut and grey, with surgeons and officers on parole in like color, but gorgeous in gilding, were still to be seen about the streets. Greyheaded darkies and picaninnies peered with grinning faces over every fence. The wenches were busily employing the time allowed for the halt in baking hoe-cakes for the men.
In front of the principal mansion of the place, owned by a Major in the Rebel service under Jackson, a small group of officers and men were interesting themselves in the examination of an antique naval sword that had just been purchased by a Sergeant from a venerable Uncle Ned, who stood hat in hand, his bald head exposed to the sun, bowing as each new comer joined the crowd.
"Dat sword, gemmen," said the negro, politely and repeatedly bowing, "belonged to a Captain ob de Louisiana Tigers dat Hannar Amander and me nussed, case he came late and couldn't get into de hospitals or houses, dey was so full right after de fust big Bull Run fight. His thigh was all shot to pieces. He hadn't any money, and didn't seem to hab any friends but Hannar Amander."
"Who is Hannah Amanda?" said one of the crowd.
"My wife, sah," said the old man, crossing hisbreast slowly with his right hand and profoundly bowing.
"Hannar Amander said de young man must be cared for, dat de good Lor would hold us 'countable if we let him suffer, so we gab him our bed, shared our little hoe-cake and rye coffee wid him, and Susan Matildar, my darter, and my wife dressed de wound as how de surgeon would tell us. But after about five days de surgeon shook his head and told de Captain he couldn't lib. De poor young man failed fast arter dat; he would moan and mutter all time ober ladies' names.
"'Reckon you hab a moder and sisters?' said my wife to him one morning.
"'Oh, God! yes,' said de fine-looking young man, for, as Hannar Amander said, he was purty as a pictur, and she'd often say how much would his moder and sisters gib if dey could only nuss him instead of us poor culled pussons. He said, too, he was no Rebel at heart—dat he was from de Norf, and a clerk in a store at New Orleans, and dey pressed him to go, and den he thought he'd better go as Captain if he had to go, and dey made him Captain. 'And now I must die a traitor! My God! when will my moder and sisters hear of dis, and what will dey say?' and he went on so and moaned; and when we found out he was from up Norf, and sorry at dat for being a Rebel, we felt all de warmer toward him. He called us bery kind, but moaned and went on so dreadfully dat my wife and darter didn't know what to do to comfort him. Dey bathed his head and made him cool drinks, but no use. 'It's not de pain ob de body,' said Hannar Amander to me, 'it's ob de heart—dat's what's de matter.'
"'Hab you made your peace wid God, and areyou ready for eberlasting rest?' said my wife to him.
"'My God!' groaned he, 'dere's no peace or rest for me. I'm a sinner and a Rebel too. Oh, I can't die in such a cause!' and he half raised up, but soon sunk down again.
"'We'm all rebels to de bressed God. His Grace alone can sab us,' said my wife, and she sung from dat good hymn
"'Tis God alone can gibDe bliss for which we sigh.'
"'Tis God alone can gibDe bliss for which we sigh.'
"'Susan Matildar, bring your Bible and read some.' While she said dis, de poor young man's eyes got full ob tears.
"'Oh, my poor moder! how she used to read to me from dat book, and how I've neglected it,' said he.
"Den Susan Matildar—she'd learned to read from her missus' little girls—read about all de weary laden coming unto de blessed Sabiour. Wheneber she could she'd read to him, and I went and got good old Brudder Jones to pray for him. By un by de young man begin to pray hisself, and den he smiled, and den, oh, I neber can forget how Hannar Amander clapped her hands and shouted 'Now I know he's numbered wid de army ob de Lor'! kase he smiles.' Dat was his first smile; but I can tell you, gemmen, it grew brighter and brighter, and by un by his face was all smiles, and he died saying he'd meet his moder and all ob us in Hebben, and praising de bressed Lor'!"
The old man wiped his eyes, and there was a brief pause, none caring even in that rough, hastily collectedcrowd to break the silence that followed his plain and pathetic statement.
"But how did you get the sword?" at last inquired one.
"Before he died he said he was sorry he could not pay us for our kindness," resumed the old man. "Hannar Amander said dat shouldn't trouble him, our pay would be entered up in our 'ternal count.
"And den he gab me dis sword and said I should keep it and sell it, and dat would bring me suffin'. And he gab Susan Matildar his penknife. De Secesh am 'quiring about de sword. I'd like to keep it, to mind de young man by, but we've all got him here," said the old man, pointing to his heart. "I'd sooner gib it to you boys dan sell it to de Rebels, but de Sargeant yer was good enough to pay me suffin for it, and den I cant forget dat good young man, I see his grave every day. We buried him at de foot ob our little lot, and Susan Matildar keeps flowers on his grave all day long. Her missus found out he was from de Norf and was sorry 'fore he died he had been a Rebel, and she told Susan Matildar she wouldn't hab buried him dere. But Hannar Amander said dat if all de Rebels got into glory so nice dey'd do well; and de sooner dey are dere de better for us all, dis ole man say."
This last brought a smile to the crowd, and a collection was taken up for the old man.
"Bress you, gemmen! bress you! Served my Master forty-five years and hab nuffin to show for it. Our little patch Hannar Amander got, but I tries to sarve de Lor at de same time, and dere is a better 'count kept ob dat in a place where old Master dead and gone now pas' twenty years, will nebber hab a chance ob getting at de books."
The old man had greatly won upon his hearers, when the bugle called them to their posts.
Our corps from this place took the road to White Plains, near which little village they encamped in a wood for two nights and a day, while a snow-storm whitened the fields.
"Let the hawk stoop, the bird has flown,"
"Let the hawk stoop, the bird has flown,"
said a boyish-faced officer who was known in the Regiment as the Poetical Lieutenant, to the Adjutant, as he pushed aside the canvas door of the Office Tent on one of those wintry evenings. The caller had left the studies of the Sophomoric year,—or rather his Scott, Byron, Burns, and the popular novelists of the day,—for the recruiting service in his native county. The day-dreams of the boy as to the gilded glory of the soldier had been roughly broken in upon by severe practical lessons, in tedious out-post duty and wearisome marches. He could remember, as could many others, how he had admired the noble and commanding air with which Washington stands in the bow of the well loaded boat as represented on the historic canvas, and the stern determination depicted upon the countenances of the rest of his Roman-nosed comrades—(why is it that our historic artists make all our Revolutionary Fathers Roman-nosed? If their pictures are faithful, where in the world do our swarms of pugs and aquilines come from worn by those claiming Revolutionary descent? Is it beyond their skill to make a pug or an aquiline an index to nobility of soul or heroic resolve?)—as they keep the frozen masses borne by that angry tide at safe distance from the frail bark—but he then felt nothing of the ice grating the sides of the vessel inwhich he hoped to make the voyage of life, nor shuddered at the wintry midnight blast that swept down the valley of the Delaware. His dreams had departed; but poetical quotations remained for use at every opportunity.
"What's the matter now?" says the Adjutant.
"One of the Aids just told me," rejoined the Lieutenant, "that the Rebels were in force in our front, and would contest the Rappahannock, while the possession of the Gap we have just left lets them in upon our rear."
"The old game played out again," says the Adjutant. "Another string loose in the bag. Strategy in one respect resembles mesmerism—the object operated upon must remain perfectly quiet. Are we never to suppose that the Rebels have plans, and that their vigilance increases, and will increase, in proportion to the extremity of their case? Our theorists and routine men move armies as a student practises at chess, as if the whole field was under their control, and both armies at their disposal. With our immense resources, vigorous fighting and practical common sense would speedily suppress the Rebellion. Where are our old fighting stock of Generals? our Hookers, Heintzelmans, Hancocks, and men of like kidney? Why must their fiery energies succumb to a cold-blooded strategy, that wastes the materiel of war, and what is worse, fills our hospitals to no purpose? Those men have learned how to command from actual contact with men. The art of being practical, adapting one's self to emergencies, is not taught in schools. With some it is doubtless innate; with the great mass, it is a matter of education, such as is acquired from moving among men."
"We have the Pyrrhic dance as yet;Where is our Pyrrhic phalanx gone?Of two such lessons why forgetThe nobler and the manlier one?"
"We have the Pyrrhic dance as yet;Where is our Pyrrhic phalanx gone?Of two such lessons why forgetThe nobler and the manlier one?"
broke in our Poetical Lieutenant.
"D—n your Pyrrhics," retorted the Adjutant, snappishly. "For the Pyrrhics of past days we have Empirics now. Our phalanxes of old have been led to victory by militia Colonels, who sprang from the thinking head of the people, glowing with the sacred fire of their cause. Do you not believe," continued he enthusiastically, "that the loyal masses who sprang into ranks at the insult upon Sumter would have found a leader long ere this worthy of their cause, whose rapid and decisive blows would have saved us disgraceful campaigns, had the nation been unencumbered by this ruin of a Regular Army, that has given us little else than a tremendous array of officers, many of them of the Pigeon-hole and Paper order,—beggarly lists of Privates,—Routine that must be carried out at any cost of success,—and Red Tape that everywhere represses patriotism? And then to think, too, of the half-heartedness and disaffection. How long must these sneaking Catilines in high places abuse our patience? But what can be expected from officers who are not in the service from patriotic motives, but rather from prospects of pay and position? End the war, and you will have men who are now unworthy Major and Brigadier Generals, subsiding into Captains and Lieutenants. Their movements indicate thattheyrealize their position fully; but when will the country realize that 'strategy' is played out?"
"The whiskey at Division Head-quarters is played out, any way," said a Sergeant on duty in the CommissaryDepartment, who had entered the tent while the Adjutant was speaking.
"'And not a drop to drink,'"
"'And not a drop to drink,'"
rejoined the Lieutenant.
"Then, by Heaven, we are lost," continued the Adjutant. "Strategy played out and our General of Division out of whiskey. Yes, sir! those mishaps end all further movement of this Grand Army of the Potomac. But when did you hear that?"
"I was in the marquee of the Brigade Commissary when a Sergeant and a couple of privates on duty about Pigey's Head-quarters came in with a demijohn and a note to the Commissary, presenting the compliments of the General commanding Division, and at the same time the cash for four gallons of whiskey. The Captain read it carefully and told the Sergeant to tell the General that he didn't keep a dram-shop. I expected that this reply would make sport, and I concluded to wait awhile and see the thing out. In a few minutes the Sergeant returned, stating that he had not given that reply to the General, through fear, I suppose, but had stated that the Captain had made some excuse. He said further that Pigey said he was entirely out, and must have some.
"'Tell him what I told you,' said the Captain, determinedly. Off the Sergeant started. I waited for his return outside, and asked him how Pigey took the answer. 'Took it?' said he, 'I didn't tell him about the dram-shop, but when he found I had none, he raved like mad—swore he was entirely out—had been since morning, and must and would have some. He d——d the Captain for being a temperance fanatic, and for bringing his fanatical notions into the army; and all the while he paced up and down his marqueelike a tiger at a menagerie. At last he told me that I must return again and tell the Captain that it was a case of absolute necessity, and that he knew that there was a barrel of it among the Commissary stores, and that he must have his four gallons.'
"I followed the Sergeant in, but he could not make it. The Captain had just turned it over to the Hospital.
"So the Sergeant went back again with the empty demijohn. He told me afterwards that the General was so taken aback by his not getting any, that he sat quietly down on his camp stool, ran his fingers through his hair, pulled at his moustache, and then 'I knew,' said the Sergeant, 'that a storm was brewing, and that the General was studying how to do justice to the subject. At length he rose slowly, kicked his hat that had fallen at his feet to one corner of the marquee, d——g it at the same time; d——d me for not getting it any how, and clenching his fists and walking rapidly up and down, d——d the Captain, his Brigadier, and everything belonging to the Brigade, until I thought it a little too hard for a man who had had a Sunday School education in his young days to listen to, and I left him still cursing.'"
"He will court-martial the Captain," said the Colonel, who had entered the tent, "for signal contempt of the Regular Service. I recollect a charge of that kind preferred by a Regular Lieutenant against an Adjutant of the —— Maine, down in the Peninsula. In one of our marches the Adjutant had occasion to ride rapidly by the Regiment to which the Lieutenant belonged. The Lieutenant hailed him—told him to stop. The Adjutant knowing his duty, and that he had no authority to halt him, continued his pace, but found himself for nearly a month afterward in arrestunder a charge of 'Signal contempt for the Regular Service.'"
Sigel's hardy Teutons lined the road in the vicinity of New Baltimore, through which village the route lay on the following day. Part of his corps had some days previously occupied the mountain gaps in the Bull Run range on the left. Other troops, led by a Commander whose strategy was singularly efficacious to keep him out of fights, were passing to the front, leaving a fighting General of undoubted prowess in European and American history, in the rear. Inefficient himself, and perhaps designedly so, his policy could not, with safety to his own reputation, allow of efficiency elsewhere.
That night our Regiment encamped in one of the old pine fields common in Virginia. The softness of the decaying foliage of the pine which covered the ground as a cushion was admirably adapted to repose, and upon it the men rested, while the gentle evening breeze sighed among the boughs above them, as if in sympathy with disappointed hopes and sacrifices made in vain.
"Stragglers and marauders, sir," said a Sergeant of the Provost Guard, saluting the Colonel, who was one of the circle lying cozily about the fire, pointing as he spoke to a squad of way-worn, wo-begone men under guard in his rear. "Here is a list of their offences. I was ordered to report them for punishment."
"A new wrinkle, that," said the Colonel, as the Sergeant left. "Our Brigadier must be acting upon his own responsibility. Our General of Division would certainly never have permitted such an opportunity slip for employing the time of officers in Courts-martial. That list would have kept one of ourDivision Courts in session at least three weeks, and have given the General himself an infinite amount of satisfaction in examining his French authorities, and in strictures upon the Records. What have we here, any how?"
No. 1. "Straggling to a persimmon tree on the road-side."
"That man," said a Lieutenant, "when he saw our Brigadier coming up, presented him with a couple of persimmons very politely. But it was no go; the General ordered him under guard and eat the persimmons as part of the punishment."
"Well," rejoined the Colonel, "we'll let you off with guard duty for the night."
No. 2. "Killing a shoat while the Regiment halted at noon."
The man charged was a fine-looking young fellow whose only preparation for the musket, when he enlisted, was previous practice with the yard stick in a dry goods establishment. Intelligent and good-natured, he was popular in the command, and was never known to let his larder suffer.
"Was it a Rebel pig?" inquired a bystander.
"A most rebellious pig," replied he, bowing to the Colonel. "He gave us a great amount of trouble, and rebelled to the last." A laugh followed, interrupted by the Colonel, who desired to hear the circumstances of the case.
"Right after we had halted on the other side of New Baltimore," continued the man, "I saw the pig rooting about a corn shock, and as my haversack was empty, and myself hungry, I thought I could dispose of part of him to advantage, and before I had time to reflect about the order, I commenced running after him. Several others followed, and some officersnear by stood looking at us. After skinning my hands and knees in trying to catch him by throwing myself upon him, I finally caught him. When I had him skinned, I gave a piece to all the officers who saw me, saving only a ham for myself, and I was dressing it when up came a Lieutenant of the Provost Guard and demanded it. I debated the matter as well as a keen appetite would allow, and finally coming to the conclusion that I could not serve my country as I should, if half starved, I resolved to keep it, and refused him, and he reported me, and here I am with it at your service," clapping his hand on a well filled haversack.
One-half of the meat was confiscated, but the novelty of the sergeant's patriotic plea saved him further penalty.
No. 3. Caught in a negro shanty, in company with an old wench.
The crowd laughed; while the subject, a tall cadaverous-looking fellow, protested earnestly that he was only waiting while the wench baked him a hoe-cake.
"Guard duty for the night," said the Colonel.
"Poor devil! He will have to keep awake, and can't sing—'Sleeping I dream, love, dream, love, of thee'"—said the poetical Lieutenant, who chanced to be one of the group.
No. 4. Caught by the General Commanding Division, twenty feet high on a persimmon tree, and Nos. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 on the ground below; also "Lying."
"Another persimmon crowd. Every night we are troubled with the persimmon business," said the Colonel; "but what does the 'also Lying' mean?"
"Why," said a frank fellow of the crowd, "you see when the old General came up, I said it was apicket station, and that the man up the tree was looking out for the enemy. It was a big thing, I thought, but the General didn't see it, and he swore he would persimmon us."
"Which meant," said the Colonel, "that you would lose your persimmons, and go on extra police duty for forty-eight hours each."
The crowd were lectured upon straggling, that too frequent offence of Volunteers, and after a severe reprimand dismissed.
The country abounded in persimmon trees, and their golden fruit was a sore temptation to teeth sharpened on army crackers. As the season advanced, and persimmons became more palatable, crowds would thus be brought up nightly for punishment. This summary procedure was an innovation by the Brigadier upon the Red-Tape formulary of Courts-martial, so rigidly adhered to, and fondly indulged in, by the General of Division. The Brigadier would frequently himself dispose of delinquencies of the kind, telling the boys in a manner that made them feel that he cared for their welfare, that they had been entrusted to him by the country for its service, and that he considered himself under obligations to their relatives and friends to see that while under his command their characters received no detriment, and while becoming good soldiers they would not grow to be bad citizens. He made them realize, that although soldiers they were still citizens; and many a man has left him all the better for a reprimand which reminded him of duties to relatives and society at large. How much nobility of soul might be spared to the country with care of this kind, on the part of commanders. Punishment is necessary—but how many to whom it is intrusted forget that in giving it a moral effect uponsociety, care should be taken that it may operate beneficially upon the individual. The General who crushes the soul out of his command by exacting infamous punishments for trivial offences, is but a short remove from the commander who would basely surrender it to the enemy on the barest pretext. Punishment has too often been connected with prejudice against Volunteers in the Army of the Potomac, controlled as it has been too much by martinets. That a nation of freemen could have endured so long the contumely of a proud military leader when his incapacity was so apparent, will be a matter of wonder for the historian. The inconsistency that would follow the great Napoleon in modelling an army and neglect his example in giving it mobility, with eminent propriety leaves the record of its exploits to depend upon the pen of a scion of the unmilitary House of Orleans.
But the decree "thus far shalt thou come," forced upon an honest but blindly indulgent President by the People, who will not forget that power is derived from them, had already gone forth, although not yet officially announced to the Army; and it was during the week at Warrenton, our halting-place on the morrow, that the army, with the citizens at home, rejoiced that the work of staying the proud waves of imbecility, as well as insult, to our Administration, had commenced. The history of reforms is one of the sacrifice of blood, money, and time. Frightful bills of mortality, shattered finances, nineteen months of valuable time, do not in this case admit of an exception.
end of chapter decoration
Camp near Warrenton—Stability of the Republic—Measures, not Men, regarded by the Public—Removal of McClellan—Division Head-Quarters a House of Mourning—A Pigeon-hole General and his West Point Patent-Leather Cartridge-Box—Head-Quarter Murmurings and Mutterings—Departure of Little Mac and the Prince—Cheering by Word of Command—The Southern Saratoga—Rebel Regret at McClellan's Departure.
Writers prone to treat of the instability of Republics, will find serious matter to combat in the array of events that culminated at Warrenton. Without the blood that has usually characterized similar events in the history of Monarchies, in fact with scarcely a ripple upon the surface of our national affairs, a great military chieftain, or to speak truly, a commander who had endeavored, and who had the grandest of opportunities to become such, passed from his proud position as the leader of the chief army of the Republic, to the obscurity of private life. Proffered to a public, pliant, because anxious that its representatives in the field should have a worthy Commander, by an Administration eager to repair the disaster of Bull Run,—puffed into favor by almost the entire press of the country, the day had been when the loyalty of the citizen was measured by his admiration of General McClellan.
Never did a military leader assume command so auspiciously. The resources of a mighty nation were lavishly contributed to the materiel of his army. Its best blood stood in his ranks. Indulged to an almost criminal extent by an Administration that in accordance with the wishes of the masses it represented, bowed at his beck and was overly solicitous to do his bidding, no wonder that this ordinary mind became unduly inflated. He could model his army upon the precedents set by the great Napoleon; he could surround himself by an immense Staff—the talent of which, however, but poorly represented the vigor of his army,—for nepotism and favoritism interfered to prevent that, as they will with common men; drill and discipline could make his army efficient,—for his subordinates were thorough and competent, and his men were apt pupils; but he himself could not add to all these the crowning glories of the field. Every thing was there but genius, that God-given gift; and that he did not prove to be a Napoleon resulted alone from a lack of brains.
Now that the glare of the rocket has passed from our sky, and its stick has fallen quietly enough among the pines of New Jersey, citizens have opportunity for calm reflection. We are not justified, perhaps, in attributing to McClellan all the evils and errors that disfigure his tenure of office. Intellect equal to the position he could not create for himself, and ninety-nine out of one hundred men of average ability would not have descended from his balloon-like elevation with any better grace. It is in the last degree unjust to brand with disloyalty, conduct that seems to be a result natural enough to incompetency. That upon certain occasions he may have been used for disloyal purposes by designing men, may be the consequenceof lack of discrimination rather than of patriotism.
Whatever might have induced his conduct of the war, the nation has learned a lesson for all time. Generals who had grown grey in honorable service were rudely set aside for a Commander whose principal merit consisted in his having published moderately well compiled military books. Their acquiescence redounds to their credit; but their continued and comparatively calm submission in after times, when that General, regardless of soldierly merit, placed in high and honorable positions relatives and intimate friends, who could be but mere place-men, dependent entirely upon him for their honors, and committed to his interests, is strong proof of devoted patriotism. Slight hold had these neophytes upon the stern matter-of-fact fighting Generals, or the equally devoted and patriotic masses in ranks. In their vain glory they murmured and muttered during and subsequent to this week at Warrenton, as they had threatened previously, in regard to the removal of McClellan. They knew not the Power that backed the Bayonet. In the eye of the unreserved and determined loyalty of the masses, success was the test of popularity with any Commander. Not the shadow of an excuse existed for any other issue. Our resources of the materiel of war were well nigh infinite. Men could be had almost without number, at least equal to the Rebels in courage. There was, then, no excuse for inaction, and none knew it better than our reflecting rank and file.
The effort to inspire popularity for McClellan had been untiring by his devotees in position in the army. In the outset it was successful. Like their friends at home, the men in ranks, during the dark days thatsucceeded Bull Run, eagerly caught at a name that received such honorable mention. That this flush of popularity did not increase until it became a steady flame like that which burned within the breasts of the veterans of the old French Empire, is because its subject lacked the commanding ability, decision of character, and fiery energy, that made statesmen do reverence, turned the tide of battle to advantage, and swept with resistless force over the plains of Italy and the mountains of Tyrol.
It was with mingled feelings of pleasure and uncertainty, caused by the change, that the Regiment broke to the front in column of company, and encamped on a beautifully wooded ridge about two miles north of Warrenton. Pleasure upon account of the change—as any change must be for the better,—uncertainty, as to its character and extent. In their doubtful future, Generals shifted position, and succeeded each other, very much as dark specks appear and pass before unsteady vision. Who would be the successor? Would the change be radical? were questions that were discussed in all possible bearings around cheerful camp-fires.
Whatever the satisfaction among subordinate officers and the ranks, Division Head-quarters was a house of mourning. To the General removed solely it owed its existence. Connected with his choice Corps, it had basked in the sunshine of his favor. With the removal already ordered, "the dread of something worse"—a removal nearer home was apprehended. As a Field Commander, the officer upon whose shoulders rested the responsibilities of the Division, was entirely unknown previously to his assuming command. His life hitherto had been of such a nature as not to add to his capacity as a Commander.Years of quiet clerkly duty in the Topographical Department may, and doubtless did in his case, make an excellent engineer or draughtsman, but they afford few men opportunities for improvement in generalship. During the McClellan regime this source furnished a heavy proportion of our superior officers. Why, would be difficult to say on any other hypothesis than that of favoritism. Their educational influences tend to a defensive policy, which history proves Generals of ability to have indulged in only upon the severest necessity. To inability to rise above these strictures of the school, may be traced the policy which has portrayed upon the historic page, to our lasting disgrace as a nation, the humiliating spectacle of a mighty and brave people, with resources almost unlimited, compelled for nearly two years to defend their Capital against armies greatly inferior to their own in men and means.
Independently of these educational defects, as they must be called, there was nothing in either the character or person of the Division Commander to command respect or inspire fear. Eccentric to a most whimsical degree, his oddities were the jest of the Division, while they were not in the least relieved by his extreme nervousness and fidgety habits of body. That there was nothing to inspire fear is, however, subject to exception, as his whims kept subordinates in a continual fever. The art of being practical—adapting himself to circumstances—he had never learned. It belongs to the department of Common Sense, in which, unfortunately, there has never been a professor at West Point. His after life does not seem to have been favorable to its acquirement. Withal, the hauteur characteristic to Cadets clung to him, and on many occasions rendered him unfortunatein his intercourse with volunteer officers. Politeness with him, assumed the airs and grimaces of a French dancing-master, which personage he was not unfrequently and not inaptly said to resemble. Displeasure he would manifest by the oddest of gestures and volleys of the latest oaths, uttered in a nervous, half stuttering manner. Socially, his extensive educational acquirements made him a pleasant companion, and with a friend it was said he would drink as deep and long as any man in the Army of the Potomac. Once crossed, however, his malignity would be manifested by the most intolerable and petty persecution.
"He has no judgment," said a Field-Officer of a Regiment of his command; a remark which, by the way, was a good summary of his character.
"Why?" replied the officer to whom he was speaking.
"I was out on picket duty," rejoined the other, "yesterday. We had an unnecessarily heavy Reserve, and one half of the men in it were allowed to rest without their belts and boxes. The General in the afternoon paid us a visit, and seeing this found fault, that the men were not kept equipped; observing at the same time that they could rest equally well with their cartridge boxes on; that when he was a Cadet at West Point he had ascertained by actual practice that it could be done."
"Do you recollect, General," I remarked, "whether you had forty rounds of ball cartridge in your box then?"
"He said he did not know that that made any difference."
"Now considering that the fact of the boxes being filled makes all the difference, I say," continued the officer, "that the man who makes a remark such a the General made, is devoid of judgment."
But he was connected both by ties of friendship and consanguinity with the hitherto Commander of the Army of the Potomac. His Adjutant-General was related to the same personage. The position of the latter, for which he was totally unfitted by his habits, was perhaps a condition precedent to the appointment of the General of Division.
The fifth of November, a day destined to become celebrated hereafter in American as in English history, dawned not less inauspiciously upon the Head-quarters of the Corps. They too could not appreciate the dry humor of the order that commanded Little Mac to report at Trenton. They thought alone of the unwelcome reality—that it was but an American way of sending him to Coventry. The Commander of the Corps had been a great favorite at the Head-quarters of the army—perhaps because in this old West Point instructor the haughty dignity and prejudice against volunteers which characterized too many Regular officers, had its fullest personification. His Corps embraced the largest number of Regular officers. In some Regiments they were ridiculously, and for Uncle Sam expensively, plentiful,—some Companies having two or three Captains, two or three First or Second Lieutenants,—while perhaps the enlisted men in the Regiment did not number two hundred. But these supernumeraries were Fitz John's favorites, and whether they performed any other labor than sporting shoulder straps, regularly visiting the Paymasters, adjusting paper collars and cultivating moustaches, was a matter of seemingly small consequence, though during depressed national finances.
The little patriotism that animated many of the officers attached to both of these Head-quarters, did not restrain curses deep if not loud. Pay and positionkept them in the army at the outbreak of the Rebellion; and pay and position alone prevented their taking the same train from Warrenton that carried away their favorite Commander. A telegram of the Associated Press stated a few days later that a list of eighty had been prepared for dismissal. What evil genius averted this benefit to the country, the War Department best knows. It required no vision of the night, nor gift of soothsaying, to foretell the trouble that would result from allowing officers in important positions to remain in the army, who were under the strongest obligations to the General removed, devotedly attached to him, and completely identified with, and subservient to, his interests. It might at least be supposed that his policy would be persevered in, and that his interests would not suffer. So far the reform was not radical.
"Colonel," said one of these martinets who occupied a prominent position upon the Staff of Prince Fitz John, as with a look of mingled contempt and astonishment he pointed to a Lieutenant who stood a few rods distant engaged in conversation with two privates of his command, "do you allow commissioned officers to converse with privates?"
"Why not, sir? Those three men were intimate acquaintances at home. In fact, the Lieutenant was a clerk in a dry-goods establishment in which one of the privates was a junior partner."
"All wrong, sir," replied the martinet. "They should approach a commissioned officer through a Sergeant. The Inspecting Officer will report you for laxity of discipline in case it continues, and place you under arrest."
The Brigadier, when he heard of this conversation, intimated that should the Inspecting Officer attemptit, he would leave the Brigade limits under guard; and it was not attempted.
Nonsense such as this is not only contemptible but criminal, when contrasted with the kind fellowship of Washington for his men,—his solicitude for their sufferings at Valley Forge,—Putnam sharing his scanty meals with privates of his command,—Napoleon learning the wants of his veterans from their own lips, and tapping a Grenadier familiarly upon the shoulder to ask the favor of a pinch from his snuff-box. Those worthies may rest assured that marquees pitched at Regulation distance, and access through non-commissioned officers, will not, if natural dignity be wanting, create respect. How greatly would the efficiency of the army have been increased, had the true gentility that characterized the noble soul of Colonel Simmons, who fell at Gaines' Mills, and that will always command reverence, been more general among his brother officers of the Regular Army.
These evil results should not, however, lead to a wholesome condemnation of West Point. The advantages of the Institution have been abused, or rather neglected, by the great masses of the Loyal States. In our moral matter-of-fact business communities it has been too generally the case, that cadets have been the appointees of political favoritism, regardless of merit; and that the wild and often worthless son of influential and wealthy parents, who had grown beyond home restraint, and who gave little indication of a life of honor or usefulness, would be turned into the public inclosure at West Point to square his morals and his toes at the same time at public expense, and the act rejoiced at as a good family riddance. Thus in the Loyal States, the profession of arms had fallen greatly into disrepute previouslyto the outbreak of the Rebellion, and instead of being known as a respectable vocation, was considered as none at all. Had military training to some extent been connected with the common school education of the land, we would have gained in health, and would have been provided with an able array of officers for our noble army of Volunteers. Among other preparations for their infamous revolt, the Rebels did not fail to give this especial prominence. The Northern States have been great in peace; the material is being rapidly educated that will make them correspondingly great in war.
"November's surly blasts" were baring the forests of foliage, when the order for the last Review by McClellan was read to the Troops. Mutinies and rumors of mutinies "from the most reliable sources" had been suspended above the Administration, like the threatening sword of Damocles; but Abraham's foot was down at last, and beyond murmurings and mutterings at disaffected Head-Quarters no unsoldierly conduct marked the reception of the order. So far from the "heavens being hung with black," as a few man-worshippers in their mad devotion would have wished, nature smiled beautifully fair. Such a sight could only be realized in Republican America. A military Commander of the greatest army upon the Continent, elevated in the vain-glory of dependent subordinates into a quasi-Dictatorship, was suddenly lowered from his high position, and his late Troops march to this last Review with the quiet formality of a dress parade. What cared those stern, self-sacrificing men in ranks, from whose bayonets that brilliant sun glistened in diamond splendor, for the magic of a name—the majesty of a Staff, gorgeous, although not clothed in the uniform desired by its late Chief. Themeasure of payment for toil and sacrifice with them, was progress in the prosecution of their holy cause. The thunders of the artillery that welcomedhimwith the honor due to his rank, remindedthemto how little purpose, through shortcomings upon his part, those same pieces had thundered upon the Peninsula and at Antietam.
Massed in close columns by division along the main road leading to Warrenton, the troops awaited the last of the grand pageants that had made the Army of the Potomac famous for reviews. Its late Commander, as he gracefully sat his bay, had not the nonchalance of manner that he manifested while reading a note and accompanying our earnest President in a former review at Sharpsburg; nor was the quiet dignity that he usually exhibited when at the head of his Staff, apparent. His manner seemed nervous, his look doubly anxious; troubled in the present, and solicitous as to the future. Conscious, too, doubtless, as he faced a nation's Representatives in arms, how he had "kept the word of promise to the ear," and how "he had broken it to the hope;" how while his reviews had revealed a mighty army of undoubted ability and eagerness for the fight, his indecision or proneness to delay had made its campaigns the laughing-stock of the world. His brilliant Staff clattered at his heels; but glittering surroundings were powerless to avert the memories of a winter's inactivity at Manassas, the delay at Yorktown, the blunders on the Chickahominy, or the disgrace of the day after Antietam. How closely such memories thronged upon this thinking soldiery, and how little men who leave families and business for the field, from the necessity of the case, care for men if their measures are unsuccessful, may be imagined, whenthe fact is known that this same Little Mac, once so great a favorite through efforts of the Press and officers with whom he had peopled the places in his gift, received his last cheers from some Divisions of that same Army by word of command.