"War Department, Adj't.-Gen.'s Office,"Washington, Sept. 2, 1862."Major-General McClellan will have command of the fortifications of Washington, and of all the troops for the defense of the Capital."By order of"E. D. Townsend, "Maj.-Gen.Halleck.Ass't. Adj't.-Gen."
"War Department, Adj't.-Gen.'s Office,"Washington, Sept. 2, 1862.
"War Department, Adj't.-Gen.'s Office,
"Washington, Sept. 2, 1862.
"Major-General McClellan will have command of the fortifications of Washington, and of all the troops for the defense of the Capital.
"By order of"E. D. Townsend, "Maj.-Gen.Halleck.Ass't. Adj't.-Gen."
"By order of
"E. D. Townsend, "Maj.-Gen.Halleck.Ass't. Adj't.-Gen."
At this time the Federal troops, under General Pope, were retreating in great disorder from the disastrous defeat in the Virginia campaign, and the roads leading to Washington were, for the second time during the war, filled with stragglers from the ranks, making their way to the capital. It will be remembered that while McClellan and the main Eastern army were in the Peninsula, the divisions of McDowell, Fremontand Banks were, by orders of the government, held near Washington, for the protection of the national capital. On the 26th day of July, these forces were consolidated as the Army of Virginia, and placed under the command of General Pope. This army was guarding the line of the Rapidan.
Soon after the retreat of the Union army under General McClellan, the Confederates, in August, 1862, began to move towards Washington. Stonewall Jackson, leading the advance of the Southern army, attacked Banks' force at Cedar Mountain, on the 6th day of August. Banks, however, was able to hold Jackson in check for some time; but the main body of the rebels arriving, Banks was compelled to retreat. Lee now pressed heavily upon Pope, who retreated northward from every position then held by him.
When this movement became known to the authorities, General McClellan was ordered to hastily ship the Army of the Potomac back to Washington, and so persistent was General Halleck in his orders to that effect, that at the second battle of Manassas McClellan found himself completely stripped of his army—literally without a command—and compelled to submit to the mortification of listening to the roar of the battle from afar, and without being allowed to participate in its conflicts. Some idea of his feelings may be learned from a dispatch sent by him to General Halleck at this time:
"I cannot express to you the pain and mortification I have experienced to-day, in listening to the distant sound of the fighting of my men. As I can be of no further use here, I respectfully ask that if there is a probability of the conflict being renewed to-morrow, I may be permitted to go to the scene of battle with my staff, merely to be with my own men, if nothing more; they will fight none the worse for my being with them. If it is not deemed best to intrust me with the command even of my own army, I simply ask to be permitted to share their fate upon the field of battle."
"I cannot express to you the pain and mortification I have experienced to-day, in listening to the distant sound of the fighting of my men. As I can be of no further use here, I respectfully ask that if there is a probability of the conflict being renewed to-morrow, I may be permitted to go to the scene of battle with my staff, merely to be with my own men, if nothing more; they will fight none the worse for my being with them. If it is not deemed best to intrust me with the command even of my own army, I simply ask to be permitted to share their fate upon the field of battle."
These appeals, however, were utterly disregarded. Gen. Pope was to command the army, and to do the fighting, and in the end the contemptuous superiors of the heroic commander suffered a crushing defeat in the bloodiest battle of this campaign. The second battle of Manassas was a most disastrous one, and on August 29-30 Pope's army was utterly defeated.
Lee was now pressing forward, flushed with victory, and threatening Washington. On the 1st of September the battle of Chantilly was fought, and in which those brave Generals, Kearney and Stevens, lost their lives.
Learning by bitter experience the culpable folly of ignoring the genius and bravery of McClellan, and with the rebel army besieging the capital, General Halleck, in the excess of fear, was forced to again call for the services of the gallant commander of the Army of the Potomac, and GeneralMcClellan was once more placed in command of an army defeated and demoralized by the incompetency of its generals.
The broken army of Pope was now united with that of the Army of the Potomac, and the army of Virginia ceased to exist as a separate organization. With the intense enthusiasm of the soldiers for McClellan, he soon brought order out of chaos, and in an incredibly short space of time he faced them about, in orderly columns, and started to repel the invading army of Lee, who was now crossing the Potomac.
From reports made by my operatives at this time, it was ascertained that Lee had abandoned, if, indeed, he ever seriously entertained the idea of advancing directly upon the capital, and was now contemplating carrying the campaign into Maryland. Longstreet's division had left Richmond about the 5th day of August for Gordonsville, marching to Orange Court-house, he fell back to Gordonsville. Jackson fell back at the same time, and they both participated in the battle of Manassas, and in the fighting that followed. Jackson then crossed the river into Maryland, before Longstreet, who crossed a few days later, at or near Edwards' Ferry.
On the 4th day of September, my operatives, who were watching the movement of the rebel army, reported that Lee had his headquarters on the Aldie turnpike, near Dranesville; while Jackson was near Fairfax Court-house. On the 9th, it was understoodthat the rebels had moved their entire army into Virginia, and it was presumed that his objective point was Baltimore.
General McClellan left Washington on the 7th day of September, and established his headquarters at Rockville, having first made all arrangements for the defense of Washington, and placing General Banks in command of the troops at that place. By this time it was known that the mass of the rebel army had passed up the south side of the Potomac river, in the direction of Leesburg, and that a part of the army had crossed the river into Maryland.
The uncertainty of Lee's intentions greatly distracted the authorities at Washington for the safety of that city, and they were fearful that he would make a feint towards Pennsylvania, and then suddenly seize the opportunity to attack the capital.
Some writers have animadverted freely upon the alleged "slowness" of McClellan's movements up the Potomac, and his "delay" in offering battle to Lee before the latter had time to unite his army and occupy the strong position he held at Antietam; but they persistently ignore the fact that the dispatches from the commander-in-chief at Washington, to McClellan in the field, from the 7th to the 16th of September, were filled with cautions against a too hasty advance, and the consequent impropriety of exposing Washington to an attack. Indeed, it seems evident to me, when I regard the career of the Armyof the Potomac, that had those in power in Washington been less concerned for their own safety, and trusted more to the skill and sagacity of the general in the field to direct its movements, the history of that army would have been widely different from what it is. The campaign of the Peninsula terminated disastrously to the Union arms, and it was mainly due to this real or assumed fear of the authorities for the safety of Washington.
It is not presuming too much to say, that McClellan knew far better than those at Washington the movements and intentions of the enemy, and that he was apprised of them sooner; but it is equally true that a certain element in the Cabinet was unfriendly to the secret service branch of the army, and, with characteristic stubbornness, placed but little reliance upon the information obtained from this source.
For instance, General Halleck was of the opinion, on the evening of the day before Antietam, that Lee's whole force had crossed the river, and so telegraphed McClellan, when the fact was that the rebel army was actually in our front, and ready for the battle that so speedily followed.
Still, the importance of moving with extreme caution was kept constantly in view, and the army was moved so that it extended from the railroad to the Potomac River, the extreme left flank resting on that stream.
On the twelfth of September, a portion of theright wing of the army entered Frederick, Md., and on the following day the main body of the right and the center wings arrived, only to find that the enemy had marched out of the place two days before, taking the roads to Boonesboro' and Harper's Ferry.
Lee had left a force to dispute the possession of the passes, through which the roads across South Mountain ran, while he had dispatched Jackson to effect the capture of Harper's Ferry. In these plans he was partially frustrated, for, while Jackson succeeded in capturing Harper's Ferry, McClellan drove the rebel troops from the passes, after short but vigorous engagements at South Mountain, on September 14th, but failed in his efforts to relieve Harper's Ferry, and that place was surrendered on the following day.
Immediately following the actions at South Mountain, Lee, being closely pressed by McClellan, turned at bay in the beautiful valley of the Antietam. Here he resolved to endeavor to hold his position until he could concentrate his army. His forces at this time numbered about forty thousand men.
On the sixteenth, he was reinforced by Jackson's gallant corps, numbering about five thousand men, which, together with other reinforcements, received during the day, swelled his numbers to fifty thousand men, which, in the language of one of their own writers, constituted "the very flower of the Army of Northern Virginia."
Our own forces did not exceed eighty-five thousand men, and it is but correct to say that not seventy thousand were actually engaged on the day of the great battle. My own judgment is, that at no time during the fight was the Confederate army ever confronted by a force outnumbering their own.
Confederate writers have sought to make it appear that Lee, at Antietam, fought and practically defeated a force in excess of his own in the ratio of three to one. This assertion is proven to be a glaring error, for the facts are that the odds were less than three to two, even in point of actual numerical strength present, while, all things considered, these were reduced until the two armies faced each other on the morning of Antietam pretty evenly opposed, and with no decided advantage in favor of either contestant.
To explain: taking it for granted that McClellan had eighty-seven thousand men at roll-call on the morning of the seventeenth, it is now known that the battle was mainly fought by the First, Second, Ninth and Twelfth Corps, while the Fifth and Sixth Corps and the Cavalry Division were scarcely used at all. In addition to this, it should be remembered that ours was the attacking force; that the enemy occupied a chosen position, and therefore, in this view of the situation, the odds were by no means great in favor of the Federal troops.
"My horse was shot under me while crossing the stream." P. 569"My horse was shot under me while crossing the stream." P. 569
On the morning of the sixteenth, being then at headquarters, and desiring to learn from personal observation something of the position of the enemy, I accompanied a party of cavalry sent out to reconnoitre across the Antietam. Here it was discovered that the enemy had changed the position of some of their batteries, while their left and center were upon and in front of the Sharpsburg and Hagerstown turnpike, and their extreme left rested upon the wooded heights near the cross-roads to the north.
While returning from this reconnoitering expedition, fire was opened upon us from a masked battery upon the hill, and my horse, a beautiful sorrel, that had carried me for months, and to which I was much attached, was shot from under me while I was crossing the stream. Several of the men who accompanied me were seriously wounded, and I narrowly escaped with my life.
The next morning, at early dawn, the battle commenced, and raged with unabated fury until nightfall, when the rebels withdrew, and our soldiers slept that night upon a dearly won, yet decisively victorious field. McClellan determined not to renew the attack upon the following day, for which his critics have censured him severely; yet, I am satisfied, that not a few writers, who have fought,on paper, the battle of Antietam, just as it should have been fought in their own estimation, have not, in a single instance, given the subject more painful and anxious thought than did the General himself, during all that night, whilehis weary troops lay resting on their arms, on a field covered with their own and their enemy's dead.
No better reasons can be assigned, and, indeed, none better need be given for the course he pursued, than he, himself, has stated in his own report of that battle. He says: "I am aware of the fact, that, under ordinary circumstances, a General is expected to risk a battle if he has a reasonable prospect of success; but at this critical juncture, I should have had a narrow view of the condition of the country, had I been willing to hazard another battle with less than an absolute assurance of success. At that moment, Virginia lost, Washington menaced, Maryland invaded, the National cause could afford no risks of defeat. One battle lost, and almost all would have been lost. Lee's army might then have marched as it pleased on Baltimore, Washington, Philadelphia or New York. It could have levied its supplies from a fertile and undevastated country, extorted tribute from wealthy and populous cities, and nowhere east of the Alleghanies was there another organized force able to arrest its march."
The day after the battle, however, General McClellan gave orders for a renewal of the attack on the morning of the nineteenth; but when morning dawned, it was discovered that the rebels had suddenly abandoned their position and retreated across the river, leaving nearly three thousand of their unburied dead on the late field of battle. Thirteen guns, thirty-ninecolors, upwards of fifteen thousand stand of small arms, and more than six thousand prisoners, were taken in the battles of South Mountain, Crampton's Gap and Antietam, while not a single gun or color was lost by our troops in any of these encounters.
The Battle of Antietam, in its effects, was a brilliant and decisive victory for the Union arms, as it was a terrible blow to the South, who had expected much from Lee's sudden and daring invasion of a loyal state; and their losses, from the time they first invaded Maryland until the end of the Battle of Antietam, were in the neighborhood of thirty thousand men.
Whatever, therefore, has been said by unfriendly critics, concerning General McClellan's achievements, they must be regarded by the intelligent and fair-minded student of history, as far from being failures. Nor were they merely the achievements of an ordinary man. It is an easy, and no doubt a tempting task, nearly twenty years after a battle has occurred, and with the knowledge and materials now at hand, for writers to fight this battle over again, and point out alleged blunders here and there, and in their vivid, and not always truthful, imaginations conduct affairs as they should have been conducted.
It may be safely asserted, that no General in the history of the Nation was ever so shamefully treated by his government, as was General McClellan. With a brave and noble devotion, and with a self-sacrificinglove for his country and her flag, he fearlessly offered his life and his services in sustaining the honor of the one, and the perpetuity of the other.
Reviewing his career from the date of his taking command of all the armies, down to the close of the battle of Antietam, he received the bitter opposition of the Cabinet, and the ill-concealed enmity of the politicians; and scarcely had he been called to this important position, than his enemies began working to effect his downfall. With such persistence and success did they devote themselves to their task, that by the time he had his Army of the Potomac ready for the field, they had practically deposed him as the Commander-in-Chief.
His plans of the campaign were required to be submitted to a body of twelve of his subordinates for approval, and this ridiculous proceeding ended in their adoption by a vote of eight to four. The next day the enemy abandoned Manassas, a move which was the result of direct treason, or, at least, criminal indiscretion on the part of some member of that commission, either directly or indirectly. After his plans were adopted, and their execution commenced, he was hampered and distressed by orders from his superiors at Washington, conflicting with his own well formed ideas and deranging his carefully prepared plans in the field.
He, however, bore all these things patiently, and at all times faithfully endeavored to do the very best,under the adverse circumstances which surrounded him. He, however, at all times, had the courage to speak his convictions, knowing the purity of his own actions, notwithstanding the fact that he was frequently called upon to execute orders that his own better judgment convinced him were conceived in ignorance or malice, and which could but do harm to him and to the cause he loved.
On July 7, 1862, we find him writing to the President his views on the conduct of the war. He said:
"In carrying out any system of policy which you may form, you will require a Commander-in-Chief of the army, one who possesses your confidence, understands your views, and who is competent to execute your orders by directing the military forces of the nation to the accomplishment of the objects by you proposed. I do not ask that place for myself, I am willing to serve you in such position as you may assign me, and I will do so as faithfully as ever subordinate served superior. I may be on the brink of eternity, and as I hope for forgiveness from my Maker, I have written this letter from sincerity towards you, and from love for my country."
Through all his correspondence, while in the field, with his superiors, there breathed a spirit of earnest and sincere devotion to country; and rarely was he tempted to utter words which proved how sorely he was tried and how much he resented the interference of incompetent authority. When pushed beyond allcontrol by the foolish, unfriendly and unjust course of those at Washington, and when their interference had caused the failure of his plans, he wrote to Secretary of War Stanton, "You have done your best to sacrifice this army," and even then the words were written more in a tone of regret than of anger.
Nearly a month later, when the order was issued for the withdrawal of the Army of the Potomac before Richmond, under the full force of his convictions, he uttered a manly protest against such action, and entreated that the order might be rescinded. "All points," said he, "of secondary importance elsewhere should be abandoned, and every available man brought here. A decided victory here and the strength of the rebellion is crushed, it matters not what partial reverses we may meet with elsewhere.Here is the true defense of Washington; it is here, on the banks of the James, that the fate of the Union should be decided.Clear in my convictions of right, strong in the consciousness that I have ever been and still am actuated by love of my country,... I do now, what I never did in my life before, I entreat that this order may be rescinded."
How true these words were, and how prophetic their scope, may be proven by the words of General Sheridan several years later. When Grant was compelled at last to adopt the very plans of McClellan, thus giving as practical a vindication of that general as could be desired, Sheridan sent a messageto Grant, but a little while before the surrender, urging him to come with all the force he could command in pursuit of Lee, saying, "Here is the end of the rebellion." A fit corollary to McClellan's dispatch from James River to Halleck: "Here, directly in front of this army, is the heart of the rebellion."
No general in this country, or in any other, was more universally beloved and admired by his troops, and no commander ever returned that affection with more warmth than did McClellan. Troops that under other commanders suffered defeat after defeat, until dismayed and discouraged they fled to Washington, followed by a pursuing and exultant enemy, were in a few days, by his magical influence over them, again transformed into brave and hopeful soldiers, ready to follow anywhere their trusted commander might lead.
It is a strange fact, but a fact, nevertheless, that the Army of the Potomac received all its good words, words of cheer and encouragement, from McClellan alone. Those in power at the capital were painfully blind to its sufferings on the toilsome march, or its deeds of valor on the bloody field. After the battle of Antietam, and after the Army of the Potomac had driven Lee from Maryland, General McClellan telegraphed his chief as follows: "I have the honor to report that Maryland is entirely freed from the presence of the enemy, who has been driven acrossthe Potomac. No fears need now be entertained for the safety of Pennsylvania; I shall at once occupy Harper's Ferry."
Two days later, receiving no word of acknowledgement for his troops, whom he felt had earned them from the Commander-in-Chief, he, in a telegram of September 20th, said: "I regret that you have not yet found leisure to say one word in commendation of the recent achievements of this army or even to allude to them."
Before this, he had taken occasion to remind General Halleck of the fact that the army deserved some credit for its labors, and appreciated any acknowledgment of the same which the Commander-in-Chief might make.
On August 18th, 1862, and after the fighting before Richmond, he wrote to General Halleck as follows:
"Please say a kind word to my army, that I can repeat to them in general orders, in regard to their conduct at Yorktown, Williamsburg, West Point, Hanover Court-house, and on the Chickahominy, as well as in regard to the seven days, and the recent retreat. No one has ever said anything to cheer them but myself. Say nothing about me; merely give my men and officers credit for what they have done. It will do you much good, and strengthen you much with them, if you issue a handsome order to them in regard to what they have accomplished. They deserve it."
"Please say a kind word to my army, that I can repeat to them in general orders, in regard to their conduct at Yorktown, Williamsburg, West Point, Hanover Court-house, and on the Chickahominy, as well as in regard to the seven days, and the recent retreat. No one has ever said anything to cheer them but myself. Say nothing about me; merely give my men and officers credit for what they have done. It will do you much good, and strengthen you much with them, if you issue a handsome order to them in regard to what they have accomplished. They deserve it."
Is it any wonder, then, that the army exhibited such splendid enthusiasm for their leader, when they, above all others, were fully acquainted with his character as a man and a general?
Self was his last and least consideration. Always mindful of the comfort of his men, yet inculcating, by his splendid discipline, the essential requisites of the true soldier, he led his troops through the campaigns of the Peninsula and of Maryland, achieving a record that was a credit to him, his army, and the nation, and is an enduring monument to the faithful devotion and the gallant services of the Army of the Potomac. I cannot close this chapter in more fitting words than those used by General McClellan, in his brief and affectionate farewell to his officers and men, after the battle of Antietam, when, having won a victory at a critical period, he was, as a reward, relieved from his command.
"November 7th, 1862."Officers and soldiers of the Army of the Potomac:"An order of the President devolves upon Major-General Burnside the command of this army. In parting from you I cannot express the love and gratitude I bear you. As an army, you have grown up under my care. In you I have never found doubt or coldness. The battles you have fought under my command will proudly live in our nation's history. The glory you have achieved, our mutual perils and fatigues, the graves of our comrades fallen in battle and by disease, the broken forms of those whomwounds and sickness have disabled—the strongest associations which can exist among men—unite us still by an indissoluble tie. We shall ever be comrades in supporting the constitution of our country and the nationality of its people."
"November 7th, 1862."Officers and soldiers of the Army of the Potomac:
"November 7th, 1862.
"Officers and soldiers of the Army of the Potomac:
"An order of the President devolves upon Major-General Burnside the command of this army. In parting from you I cannot express the love and gratitude I bear you. As an army, you have grown up under my care. In you I have never found doubt or coldness. The battles you have fought under my command will proudly live in our nation's history. The glory you have achieved, our mutual perils and fatigues, the graves of our comrades fallen in battle and by disease, the broken forms of those whomwounds and sickness have disabled—the strongest associations which can exist among men—unite us still by an indissoluble tie. We shall ever be comrades in supporting the constitution of our country and the nationality of its people."
On the evening of the seventh of November, following the battle of Antietam, General McClellan was removed from the command of the Army of the Potomac. After having spent weeks in the laborious effort of reorganizing his forces, which had been severely shattered and weakened by the hard marching and the still harder fighting in the recent battles with Lee, the brave commander, upon the eve of an important forward movement was deprived of his noble army. General Burnside was named as his successor. Again had the political cabal at Washington succeeded in their opposition to the noble commander of the Army of the Potomac, and this time effectually.
McClellan's tardiness was the alleged cause of his removal. No one in authority seemed to consider for a moment the necessity, which was apparent to their immediate commander, of affording the Federaltroops an opportunity to recuperate from their exhausted condition. The serious losses sustained at South Mountain, Crampton's Gap, and Antietam had left the army badly disorganized, and the privations and hardships to which they had been subjected, rendered a delay, for the purpose of allowing the worn and weary soldiers time to rest and recuperate, an absolute necessity. In the language of McClellan, "The Army had need of rest." After the terrible experiences of battles and marches, with scarcely an interval of repose, which they had gone through from the time of leaving the Peninsula; the return to Washington; the defeat in Virginia; the victory at South Mountain, and again at Antietam, it was not surprising that they were, in a large degree, destitute of the absolute necessities for effective duty. Shoes were worn out; blankets were lost; clothing was in rags; the army was unfit for duty, and time for rest and equipment was absolutely necessary.
McClellan at once notified the authorities of the condition of his troops, and made the necessary requisitions on the proper departments for the needed supplies. For some unaccountable reason—unaccountable to this day—the supplies ordered were so slow in reaching the men, that when, on the seventh of October, the command came for him to cross the river into Virginia, and give battle to the enemy, a compliance with the order was practically impossible.
Then, too, re-enforcements were needed. In ordering the advance, the President, through the General-in-Chief, had submitted two plans, of which McClellan could take his choice. One was to advance up the valley of the Shenandoah with reenforcements of fifteen thousand troops, the other was to cross the river between the enemy and Washington, in which case he was to be reenforced with thirty thousand men. McClellan's first inclination was to adopt the movement up the Shenandoah Valley, believing, that, if he crossed the river into Virginia, Lee would be enabled to promptly prevent success in that direction by at once throwing his army into Maryland. Owing, however, to the delay of the supplies in reaching the army, it was nearly the end of October before the troops were ready to move. About the twenty-sixth, the army commenced to cross at Harper's Ferry, and by the sixth of November the advance upon the enemy was begun. On the night of the seventh, therefore, when the order came relieving him from the command, McClellan's advance guard was actually engaged with the enemy.
I had already learned that Longstreet was immediately in our front, near Culpepper, while Jackson and Hill's forces were near Chester's and Thornton's Gap, west of the Blue Ridge. McClellan had formed the plan of attempting to divide the enemy, with the hope of forcing him to battle, when it was believed, an easy victory would be achieved.
At this juncture, however, and when the army was in an excellent condition to fight a great battle, when officers and men were enthusiastic in their hopes of being able soon to strike an effective blow, McClellan was removed, and Stanton had, at last, accomplished his revenge. Not only this, but he had also secured the failure of, what was undoubtedly destined to be, a great and decisively victorious campaign.
McClellan's plan on discovering the position of the enemy's forces, was to strike in between Culpepper Court House and Little Washington, hoping by this means to separate the rebel army, or at least to force their retreat to Gordonsville, and then advance upon Richmond, either by way of Fredericksburg or the Peninsula.
Burnside, on assuming the command, submitted a plan of his own, which was to make a feint of doing, what McClellan really intended to do, before adopting the move upon Fredericksburg or the Peninsula, and then to advance from Fredericksburg.
This plan, however, did not meet the approval of General Halleck. That General had a long conference with Burnside, at Warrenton. Here their various plans were discussed, without either agreeing to the plan of the other, and the matter was finally referred to the President for his decision. After a further delay of several days, Mr. Lincoln adopted Burnside's plan, and the advance was ordered.
The success of this plan depended upon the immediate possession of Fredericksburg by the Federal army. The intelligent student knows full well that this was not evenattempteduntil Lee had ample time to heavily re-enforce the rebel army already there. The subsequent results show Burnside's delay to have been fatal to his success.
There was a time when he could certainly have taken Fredericksburg, with but little loss; but that time was passed when he permitted the enemy to fully garrison the place, and make ample provision for its defense with an army of nearly ninety thousand men.
At this time, however, my connection with the Army of the Potomac, and with the military concerns of the government, ceased. Upon the removal of General McClellan, I declined to act any further in the capacity in which I had previously served, although strongly urged to do so by both President Lincoln and the Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton.
From my earliest manhood, I had been an ardent and active abolitionist, and I have endeavored to demonstrate this fact throughout these pages. My deep admiration, therefore, for General McClellan, was the result of my knowledge, of my intimate acquaintance with him, and a consequent high regard, based upon his innate and intrinsic qualities, both as a man and a soldier, and not from any political affinity whatever.
Refusing longer to continue with the army under its new commander, I was afterwards employed by the government in the work of investigating the numerous claims that were presented against the United States. While acting in this capacity, I was instrumental in unearthing a vast number of fraudulent claims, and, in bringing to justice a large number of men who were engaged in the base attempt to swindle and defraud the nation in the dark hours of her need and peril.
In the Spring of 1864, I was transferred to the Department of the Mississippi, under General Canby, and my headquarters were located at New Orleans. Here I was engaged in looking after cotton claims, and the frauds which were sought to be perpetrated against the government in that region of the country.
In 1865, I severed my connection with the "Secret Service of the United States," and returned to Chicago, where I have since been engaged in the active prosecution of my profession as a detective.
Very often, as I sit in the twilight, my mind reverts back to those stirring scenes of by-gone days; to those years of war and its consequent hardships, and I recall with pleasure my own connection with the suppression of the rebellion. My subsequent life has been none the less happy because of my having assisted, as best as I could, in putting down thatgigantic act of attempted disunion, and in upholding the flag of our fathers. More than all do I rejoice in the freedom it brought to nearly half a million of people, who, prior to that time, had been held in inhuman bondage,—striking the shackles from their bruised limbs, and placing them before the law free and independent.
My task is done. In a few brief pages I have attempted to depict the work of years. The war is over, the rebellion has been crushed, peace and plenty are everywhere apparent. The flag of the Union floats from every port in the United States, the slave is free, the South is recovering from the ravages of war, and the stories of those stirring times seem now like the legends of an olden time.
One more scene remains, and I will then draw the curtain.
It is a Sabbath morning, the air is fragrant with blossom and flower, the birds are carolling sweetly a requiem for the dead. Around us, sleeping the sleep that knows no waking, lie the forms of those whom we knew and loved. We are in the "city of the dead." The wind sighs through the waving branches of the trees, with a mournful melody, suggestive of the place. Near by is the bustling city, but here we are surrounded only by the mute, though eloquent testimonies of man's eternal rest. Here beneath a drooping willow let us pause awhile. Flowers are bloomingover a mound of earth, saturating the atmosphere with a grateful aroma. Let us lean over while we read what is inscribed upon the marble tablet.
Every person who may have survived the experience has undoubtedly a lively recollection of the wild groups of people which the building of the Union and Central Pacific Railroads brought together from all directions, and from all causes.
There were millions upon millions of dollars to be expended; and as the points of construction neared each other, and the twin bands of iron crept along the earth's surface like two huge serpents, spanning mighty rivers, penetrating vast mountains, and trailing through majestic forests, creeping slowly but surely towards each other, there was always the greatest dread at the most advanced points, which, like the heads of serpents, always contained danger and death; and the vast cities of a day that thensprang into existence, and melted away like school-children's snow-houses, were the points where such wild scenes were enacted as will probably never again occur in the history of railroad building.
Everything contributed to make these places typical of Babelic confusion, or Pandemoniac contention. Foreigners were told of the exhaustless work, and the exhaustless wealth, of this new country which was being so rapidly developed, and they came; men—brave men, too—who had been on the wrong side during the late irritation, and who had lost all, having staked all on the result of the war, saw a possible opportunity of retrieving their fortunes rapidly, and they came; the big-headed youth of the village whose smattering of books at the academy, or the seminary, had enlarged his brain and contracted his sense so that he was too good for the common duties and everyday drudgeries which, with patience, lead to success, learned of the glory and grandeur of that new land, and he came; the speculating shirk and the peculating clerk came; the almond-eyed sons of the Orient in herds—herds of quick-witted, patient, plodding beings who could be beaten, starved, even murdered—came; the forger, the bruiser, the counterfeiter, the gambler, the garroter, the prostitute, the robber, and the murderer, each and every, came; there was adventure for the adventurous, gold for the thief, waiting throats for the murderer; while the few respectable people quickly became discouraged, andfell into the general looseness of habits that the loose life engendered, and gradually grew reckless as the most reckless, or quickly acquiesced in the wild orgies or startling crimes which were of common occurrence. In fact, as in the human system, when any portion of it becomes diseased and all the poison in the blood flows to it, further corrupting and diseasing it until arrested by a gradual purification of the whole body, or by some severe treatment, so from every portion of the country flowed these streams of morally corrupt people, until nearly every town west of Missouri, or east of the mountains, along these lines, became a terror to honest people, and continued so until an irresistible conflict compelled a moral revulsion, sometimes so sweeping and violent as to cause an application of that unwritten, though often exceedingly just law, the execution of which leaves offenders dangling to limbs of trees, lamp-posts, and other convenient points of suspension.
As a rule, in these places, every man, whatever his business and condition, was thoroughly armed, the question of self-defense being a paramount one, from the fact that laws which governed older communities were completely a dead letter; and the law of might, in a few instances made somewhat respectable by a faint outline of ruffianly honor, alone prevailed, until advancing civilization and altered conditions brought about a better state of society; so that in these reckless crowds which pushed after the constantly changingtermini of the approaching roads, any instrument of bloodshed was considered valuable, and stores where arms and ammunition could be secured did quite as large a trade as those devoted to any other branch of business; while so outrageous was the price extorted for these instruments of aggression or defense, that they have often been known to sell for their weight in gold; and just as, during the war, the army was followed by enterprising traders who turned many an honest penny trafficking at the heels of the weary soldiers, so the same class of people were not slow to take advantage of such opportunities for gigantic profits which, though often lessened by the many risks run in such trading, were still heavy enough to prove peculiarly attractive.
As a consequence, there were many firms engaged in this particular business, but probably the heaviest was that of Kuhn Brothers, who were reported to be worth upwards of one hundred thousand dollars, which had principally been made along the line of the road, and who, with headquarters at Cheyenne, had established various "stores" at different points as the Union Pacific was pushed on, always keeping the largest stock at the most advanced point, and withdrawing stocks from the paper cities which had been left behind, though only in those towns which had not been altogether destroyed by the periodical exodus occasioned by each change of terminus.
For this reason the firms were obliged to entrusttheir business to the honesty of many different employés, who were subject to the vitiating influences and temptations, which were unusual and severe under the circumstances already mentioned, while the distances between the points, and the scarcity of secure means of safely keeping the large sums of money which would occasionally unavoidably accrue at certain points, left Kuhn Brothers, in many instances, really dependent on those dependent on them.
In this condition of affairs, and after a slight defalcation had occurred at one of their smaller stores in the spring of 1867, the firm were seeking a man whom they could place in actual charge of one or two of their establishments at the larger towns, and give a sort of general supervision over the others, when the senior member of the firm, being in Laramie, casually met a young gentleman, who happened to be able to do him so great a favor that the incident led to a close friendship and ultimate business relations, eventually resulting in this narrative of facts.
It was a pleasant May evening, and Mr. Kuhn had decided to returned to Cheyenne in order to secure a proper man for the superintendency nearer home. He was to have left Laramie for the East at a late hour of the evening and, being at a loss how to pass the intervening time, strolled out from the hotel with no particular destination in view and his mind fully occupied with the cares of his business,only occasionally noticing some peculiarity or strange sight more than usually striking among the thousands of weird things, to which his frontier business had compelled him to become accustomed, when suddenly he found himself in front of a mammoth dance-house, and, yielding to a momentary impulse of curiosity, turned into the place with the stream of gamblers, adventurers, greasers, and, in fact, everybody respectable or otherwise, who, so far from civilization, found such a place peculiarly attractive.
The dance-house was a sort of hell's bazaar, if the term may be allowed—and it is certainly the one most befitting it—and was really no "house" at all, being merely a very large board enclosure covered with a gigantic tent or series of tents, bedecked with flags and gaudy streamers. The entrance fee to this elegant place of amusement was one dollar, and you had only paid an initiatory fee when you had gained admission.
On either side as you entered were immense bars, built of the roughest of boards, where every kind of liquid poison was dispensed at the moderate sum of twenty-five cents a drink, five-cent cigars selling at the same price, and the united efforts of a half-dozen murderous looking bar-tenders at each side were required to assuage the thirst of the quite as murderous looking crowd that swayed back and forth within the space evidently prepared for that purpose.
Beyond this point, and to either side, as alsodown the center for some distance, could be found almost every known game of chance, dealt, of course, "by the house," while surrounding the lay-outs were every description of men crazed with drink, flushed with success, or deathly pale from sudden ruin; while everywhere the revolver or the bowie intimated with what terrible swiftness and certainty any trifling dispute, rankling grudge, or violent insult would be settled, one way or the other, and to be marked by the mere pitching of an inanimate form into the street!
After these attractions came a stout partition which had evidently been found necessary, for beyond it there was the strikingly strange heaven of a mushroom city—a vast department where there were music and women; and it seemed that the "management" of this grand robbers' roost had shrewdly calculated on the fact that if a poor fool had not been swindled out of every dollar he might have had before he reached this point, those two elements, all powerful for good or evil the world over, would wring the last penny from him.
Here was another but a finer bar, where more time was taken to prepare a drink and drug a man with some show of artistic excellence, and where a half dollar was changed for a single measure of poison; women,—shrewd, devilish women who could shoot or cut, if occasion required, with the nicety and effect of a man,—"steering" every person giving token of having money in his possession to the moregenteelly gotten up "lay-outs," and acting in the same capacity, only with far more successful results, as the ordinary "ropers-in" of any large city; a wild, discordant orchestra that would have been hooted out of the lowest of the "varieties" east of the Missouri; but in this place, and to these ears, so long unused to the music of the far-away homes beyond the Mississippi, producing the very perfection of enchanting harmonies; but above all, and the crowning attraction before which every other thing paled and dwindled to insignificance, a score of abandoned women, dancing and ogling with every manner of man, robbing them while embracing, cheering and drinking with them, and in every way bedeviling them; the whole forming a scene viler than imagination or the pen of man can conceive or picture; grouping of wild orgies and terrible debaucheries, such as would put Lucifer to a blush, and compel a revolution in the lowest depths of Hades.
Kuhn had strolled through the place, and now, out of compliment to general custom, purchased a cigar and was just turning to depart, when he suddenly found himself being hustled back and forth among several hard-looking fellows, who, evidently knowing his business, and surmising that he carried large sums of money upon his person, had determined to provoke him to resistance; when there would, according to the social codes then in existence at Laramie, have been a just cause for either robbing andbeating him, or murdering him outright and robbing him afterwards; when a tall, finely-formed man suddenly stepped into the crowd, and in a very decided tone of voice said:
"I say, gentlemen, that won't do. You must stand back!"
Then taking the terror-stricken ammunition dealer by the coat collar with his left hand, but keeping his right hand free for quick use and certain work, if necessary, he trotted him through the now excited throng and out into the open air, hastily telling him to "cut for the hotel," which were quite unnecessary instructions, as he made for that point at as lively a gait as his rather dumpy legs could carry him.
The person who had thus prevented the merchant's being robbed, and had also possibly saved his life, was a tall, comely young man of about twenty-eight years of age, and with a complexion as fair as a woman's, pleasant, though determined, blue eyes, and a long, reddish, luxuriant beard, all of which, with a decidedly military cut to his gray, woollen garments, and long fair hair falling upon his shoulders—the whole crowned, or rather slouched over, by a white hat of extraordinary width of brim, gave him the appearance of an ex-Confederate officer, and right good fellow, as the term goes, perfectly capable of caring for himself wherever his fortune, or misfortune, might lead him, which proved the case as he turned and confronted the desperadoes, who had immediatelyfollowed him in a threatening manner, and whom he stood ready to receive with a navy revolver half as long as his arm, mysteriously whipped from some hiding-place, in each steady hand.
A critical examination of the man as he stood there, and a very casual survey of him, for that matter, would have instantly suggested the fact to an ordinary observer that a very cool man at the rear ends of two navy revolvers huge enough to have been mounted for light-artillery service, was something well calculated to check the mounting ambition on the part of most anybody to punish him for the character of the interference shown; and the leader of the gang contented himself with remarking, "See here, Captain Harry, if it wasn't you, there'd be a reck'ning here; lively, too, I'm tellin' ye!"
"Well, but itisme; and so there won't be any reck'ning. Will there, now, eh?"
The ruffians made no answer, but sullenly returned to the dance-house, when Captain Harry, as he had been called, rammed the two huge revolvers into his boot legs, which action displayed a smaller weapon of the same kind upon each hip; after which he nodded a pleasant "good-night" to the bystanders, and walked away leisurely in the direction Mr. Kuhn had taken, pleasantly whistling "The Bonnie Blue Flag," or "The Star Spangled Banner," as best suited him.
The moment that Mr. Kuhn's protector appearedat the hotel, the former gentleman expressed his liveliest thanks for the opportune assistance he had been rendered, and introduced himself to the Captain, who already knew of him, and who in return gave his name as "Harry G. Taylor, the man from somewhere," as he himself expressed it with a pleasant laugh.
It was easy to be seen that there was a stroke of business in Mr. Kuhn's eye, which his escape from the dance-house had suggested, as he told Taylor that he had intended to return to Cheyenne that night; but he further stated that as he had so unexpectedly been befriended, he should certainly be obliged to remain another day in order to secure a further acquaintance with the man to whom he already owed so much.
Mr. Kuhn then produced some choice cigars, and the gentlemen secured a retired place upon the hotel-porch, at once entering into a general conversation, which, from the merchant's evident unusual curiosity, and Taylor's quite as evident good-humored, devil-may-care disposition, caused it to drift into the Captain's account of himself.
He told Mr. Kuhn that his family resided at that time in Philadelphia, where they had moved after his father had failed in business at Raleigh, N. C., but had taken so honorable a name with him to the former city that he had been able to retrieve his fortunes to some extent. The Captain was born atRaleigh, and had received his education in the South, and, being unable to share in his father's regard for the North, even as a portion of the country best adapted for doing business, sought out some of his old college friends in Louisville, Atlanta, and New Orleans, who had been able to secure him a fine business position at Atlanta, where by care and economy in 1860, though but a mere boy yet, he had accumulated property that would have satisfied many a man twenty years his senior.
Being impulsive, and a warm admirer of Southern institutions, he was one of the first men to join the Confederate army at Atlanta, and fought in a Georgia regiment under Johnson and Hood during the entire war, at Jonesville and Rough-and-Ready Station seeing the smoke ascend above the ruins of the once beautiful city, and realizing that the most of his earthly possessions had disappeared when the flames died away.
Having been promoted to a captaincy, he had fought as bravely as he could against the "blue-coats," like a man, acknowledging their bravery as well as that of his comrades; and at the close of the war, which of course terminated disadvantageously to his interests, he had sold his lots at Atlanta for whatever he could get for them, and with thousands of others in like circumstances, had come West and taken his chances at retrieving his fortunes.
This was told in a frank, straightforward way,which seemed to completely captivate Mr. Kuhn, for he at once spoke to Taylor concerning his business in Laramie, and bluntly asked him, in the event of mutual and satisfactory references being exchanged, whether he would accept the engagement as superintendent of his business over that portion of the road, and take actual charge of the store in that place, and the one about to be established at Benton City.
The result of the evening's interview was the engagement of Taylor by the firm at a large salary; his immediately taking supervision of the business without bonds or any security whatever; and for a time his management and habits were so able and irreproachable that, with the gratitude for his protection of Mr. Kuhn at Laramie still fresh and sincere, the firm felt that they had been most fortunate in their selection of an utter stranger, and were in every way gratified with the turn events had taken.
During the early morning of a blustering December day of the same year, I was quite annoyed by the persistence of a gentleman to see me, on what he insisted, in the business office of my Chicago agency, on terming "important business."
It was not later than half-past eight o'clock; and, as I have made it a life-long practice to get at business at an early hour, get ahead of it, and keep ahead of it during the day, I was elbow-deep in the mass of letters, telegrams, and communications of a different nature, which, in my business, invariably accumulates during the night, and felt anxious to wade through it before taking up any other matter.
The gentleman, who gave the name of Kuhn, seemed very anxious to see me, however; and letting drop the statements that he greatly desired to take the morning train for Cheyenne, where he resided; might not be able to be in Chicago again for some time; felt very desirous of seeing me personally; and would require but a few moments to explain his business, which he agreed to make explicit; I concluded to drop everything else and see him.
On being ushered into my private apartments, he at once hastily gave me an outline of the facts related in the previous chapter, adding a new series of incidents which occasioned his visit, and to the effect that the firm had made the necessary arrangements for increasing their business under their new superintendent, having added largely to their stock at Laramie, and placed about twenty thousand dollars' worth of goods at Benton City.
According to the agreement, he was required to forward money whenever the sales had reached a stated sum at each point, and was given authority totake charge of goods or moneys on hand at any of the less important stations, when convinced that things were being run loosely, or whenever it in any way appeared for the interests of the firm for him to do so.
It will be seen that under this arrangement, which was in every respect injudicious, no security having been given by Taylor, he immediately became possessed of great responsibility, as well as power; but appeared to appreciate the unusual confidence reposed in him, and conducted the business of Kuhn Brothers with unusual profit to them and credit to himself. Matters progressed in this way for some time, when suddenly, about the first of October, the firm at Cheyenne began to receive dispatches from different employees along the road, inquiring when Taylor was to return from Cheyenne, and intimating that business was greatly suffering from his absence. The members of the firm were astonished. They knew nothing of Taylor's being in Cheyenne. On the contrary, their last advices from him were to the effect that he should be at their city on the tenth of that month, with large collections; and the announcement was accompanied with glowing accounts of the prosperity of their business under his careful management.
After the startling intelligence of Taylor's unaccountable absence, a member of the firm immediately left for Laramie, Benton City, and other points, toascertain the true condition of affairs, still unable to believe that the handsome, chivalrous captain had wronged them, and that everything would be found right upon examination of matters which was immediately and searchingly entered upon; but the first glance at affairs showed conclusively that they had been swindled, and it was soon discovered that he had gathered together at the stores under his own charge, and at different points along the line, under various pretexts, fully fourteen thousand dollars, and had been given two weeks in which to escape.
Mr. Kuhn did not desire to give the case into my hands on that morning; but explained that he had returned from a fruitless trip to Philadelphia in search of his former superintendent, and had been advised by a telegram from his brothers to lay the case before me and request my advice about the matter; at the same time securing information about the probable pecuniary outlay necessary for further prosecution of the search, and such other items of information as would enable him to counsel with the remainder of the firm concerning the case, and be able to give the case into my hands, should they decide to do so, without further delay.
This was given him; and I, in turn, secured from Mr. Kuhn all the information possible concerning Taylor, which was scant indeed, as they had seen very little of him, could give but a very general description of the man, and here they had injudiciously givenhim over two months' start, during which time he might have safely got to the other side of the world.
Only one item of information had been developed by which a clue to his whereabouts could by any possibility be imagined. He had often spoken to Mr. Kuhn in the most glowing terms of life in both Texas and Mexico, as he had passed, so he had said, a portion of a year in that part of America, since the close of the war, and in connection with the subject, he had stated that he should have remained there had he been supplied with sufficient capital to have enabled him to begin business.
This was all; and I dismissed the swindled merchant with little encouragement as to the result of a chase for a thief who had got so much the advantage, or, rather, intimated to him that though I had no doubts of being able to eventually catch him, it would be rather a poor investment for the firm to expend the amount of money which might be necessary to effect his capture, unless, in looking into the matter further, I should be able to see opportunities for securing much better knowledge as to his present whereabouts, or clues which could be made to lead to them.
With this not very cheering assurance, Mr. Kuhn returned to Cheyenne.
Not hearing from the firm for several days, I finally dismissed the matter entirely from mind; but on arriving at the agency one morning, I received instructionsfrom the Cheyenne firm to proceed in the matter, and with all expedition possible endeavor to cage the flown bird for them.
I at once detailed William A. Pinkerton, my eldest son, and at present assistant superintendent of my Chicago agency, to proceed to Cheyenne, and look over the ground thoroughly there, and also, if necessary, to proceed along the line of the Union Pacific, and, after ascertaining who were Taylor's friends and companions, work up a trail through them, which would eventually bring him down.
The latter course was not necessary to be followed, however, as on arriving at Cheyenne, with some little information gleaned from the firm, he was able to ascertain that a young lawyer there named La Grange, also originally from the South, had been a quite intimate friend of Taylor's—so much so, in fact, that La Grange had for the last six months regularly corresponded with the Captain's sister, who had been described to him as not only an exceedingly beautiful woman, but as also a lady possessed of unusual accomplishments and amiability.
My son "cultivated" La Grange largely, but could secure but little information through him. He seemed to know nothing further concerning either Taylor or his family, save that he had incidentally met him along the line of the Union Pacific; they had naturally taken a sort of liking to each other, and in that way became friends in much the same mannerthat most friendships were made in that country. He further recollected that he had always directed his letters to a certain post-office box, instead of to a street number; but seemed perfectly mystified concerning the action of the brother. He had just returned from a three months' absence in Kentucky, and it was the first intimation he had had of the Captain's crime. La Grange also said that as he had been very busy, he had not written to Miss Lizzie (evidently referring to the sister), nor had he received any communication from her during that time. He had had a photograph of Harry, taken in full-dress uniform while stationed at Atlanta, which had been copied in Philadelphia, but a thorough search among his papers failed to reveal it.
This was all that my son could secure, as La Grange, evidently suspecting that, in his surprise at Taylor's crime, he might say something to compromise himself and endanger Taylor or wound his beautiful sister, to whom he seemed greatly attached, positively refused to have anything further to say concerning the matter; and with what information he had, William returned to the hotel in a brown study, determined to take time to exhaust the material at Cheyenne before proceeding on the proposed trip along the Union Pacific.
After summing up and arranging the points he had got hold of, he telegraphed me fully, adding his own impression that Taylor was in Texas, but expressinga doubt as to whether he had better proceed along the Union Pacific for more information, or go on to Philadelphia at once, and in some way secure information of the family as to their son's whereabouts.
On the receipt of this telegram, which arrived in Chicago about noon, I at once resolved upon a little strategy, being myself satisfied that Taylor had proceeded,viâSt. Louis and New Orleans into either Texas or Mexico, and was then engaged under his own or an assumed name, in some business agreeable to his taste, as formerly explained to Mr. Kuhn, and immediately telegraphed to my son:
"Keep La Grange busied all day so he cannot write, or mail letters. Study La Grange's language and modes of expression. Get La Grange's and Taylor's handwriting, signatures, and Miss Taylor's address, and come next train."
Agreeable to these instructions, he secured several letters from Taylor to Kuhn Brothers, concerning business matters, with the last one, containing the announcement that he would be in Cheyenne on the tenth of October with collections; and immediately sent by a messenger a courteous note to La Grange, desiring an outline of Taylor's life so far as he might feel justified in giving it, and requesting an answer, which was politely but firmly given in the negative over Adolph La Grange's own signature, which completed a portion of his work neatly.
The balance was more difficult. He ordered asleigh, and after settling his hotel bill, but reserving his room for the night, at once drove to La Grange's office, where he in person thanked him for his courteous letter, even if he did not feel justified in giving him the information desired. A little complimentary conversation ensued during which time my son's quick eyes noticed in the lawyer's waste-basket an envelope evidently discarded on account of its soiled appearance, addressed to "Miss Lizzie Taylor, Post-office Box ——, Philadelphia," which on the first opportunity he appropriated. The next move was topreventLa Grange's mailing any letter, as it was evident he had written several, including one to Taylor's sister, which were only waiting to be mailed.
Seeing that he had made a pleasant impression upon La Grange, who appreciated the courtesy of the call under the circumstances, and informing him that he had decided to make no further inquiries there, but was to proceed west on the following morning, he prevailed upon him to take a ride in his company about the city and its environs. In leaving his office, La Grange hesitated a moment as if deciding the propriety of taking the letters with him, or returning for them after the sleigh-ride; but evidently decided to do the latter, as he left them, much to my son's relief.
The drive was prolonged as much as possible, and the outlying forts visited, where, having letters of introduction from myself to several army-officers stationed there, both he and his companion were so hospitablytreated that the afternoon slipped away quickly, and the two returned to town evidently in high spirits. La Grange felt compelled to reciprocate as far as in his power, and billiards, with frequent drinks for the lawyer and a liberal supply of water for the detective, were in order until within a half hour of the eastern bound train time, when La Grange succumbed to an accumulation of good-fellowship, and on his own suggestion, as he "wash rising y'n'g 'torny y'know!" accepted the hospitalities of my son's room, at the Rawlins House, where he left him sweetly sleeping at a rate which would prevent the mailing of the letters he had left locked in his office for at least two days to come; as "rising young attorneys," as a rule, sober off in a carefully graduated diminishing scale of excesses of quite similar construction to the original.
On the arrival of my son in Chicago, I immediately caused to be written a letter addressed to Miss Lizzie Taylor, at her post-office box in Philadelphia, of which the following is a copy: