AFTER MANASSAS.
After the action at Manassas, the summer and winter of 1861 wore away
without movements of special note in our quarter, excepting the defeat
of the Federals at Ball's Bluff, on the Potomac, by a detached brigade
of Confederates, commanded by General Evans of South Carolina, a
West-Pointer enjoying the sobriquet of _Shanks_ from the thinness of his
legs.
In the organization of our army, my regiment was brigaded with the 6th,
7th, and 8th regiments of the Louisiana infantry, and placed under
General William H.T. Walker of Georgia. Graduated from West Point in the
summer of 1837, this officer joined the 6th United States infantry
operating against the Seminoles in Florida. On Christmas day following
was fought the battle of Okeechobee, the severest fight of that Indian
war. The savages were posted on a thickly jungled island in the lake,
through the waters of which, breast-high, the troops advanced several
hundred yards to the attack. The loss on our side was heavy, but the
Indians were so completely routed as to break their spirit. Colonel
Zachary Taylor commanded, and there won his yellow sash and grade.
Walker was desperately wounded, and the medical people gave him up; but
he laughed at their predictions and recovered. In the war with Mexico,
assaulting Molino del Rey, he received several wounds, all pronounced
fatal, and science thought itself avenged. Again he got well, as he
said, to spite the doctors. Always a martyr to asthma, he rarely enjoyed
sleep but in a sitting posture; yet he was as cheerful and full of
restless activity as the celebrated Earl of Peterborough. Peace with
Mexico established, Walker became commandant of cadets at West Point.
His ability as an instructor, and his lofty, martial bearing, deeply
impressed his new brigade and prepared it for stern work. Subsequently
Walker died on the field near Atlanta, defending the soil of his native
State--a death of all others he would have chosen. I have dwelt somewhat
on his character, because it was one of the strangest I have met. No
enterprise was too rash to awaken his ardor, if it necessitated daring
courage and self-devotion. Truly, he might have come forth from the
pages of old Froissart. It is with unaffected feeling that I recall his
memory and hang before it my humble wreath of immortelles.
In camp our army experienced much suffering and loss of strength. Drawn
almost exclusively from rural districts, where families lived isolated,
the men were scourged with mumps, whooping-cough, and measles, diseases
readily overcome by childhood in urban populations. Measles proved as
virulent as smallpox or cholera. Sudden changes of temperature drove the
eruption from the surface to the internal organs, and fevers, lung and
typhoid, and dysenteries followed. My regiment was fearfully smitten,
and I passed days in hospital, nursing the sick and trying to comfort
the last moments of many poor lads, dying so far from home and friends.
Time and frequent changes of camp brought improvement, but my own health
gave way. A persistent low fever sapped my strength and impaired the use
of my limbs. General Johnston kindly ordered me off to the Fauquier
springs, sulphur waters, some twenty miles to the south. There I was
joined and carefully nursed by a devoted sister, and after some weeks
slowly regained health.
On the eve of returning to the army, I learned of my promotion to
brigadier, to relieve General Walker, transferred to a brigade of
Georgians. This promotion seriously embarrassed me. Of the four colonels
whose regiments constituted the brigade, I was the junior in commission,
and the other three had been present and "won their spurs" at the recent
battle, so far the only important one of the war. Besides, my known
friendship for President Davis, with whom I was connected by his first
marriage with my elder sister, would justify the opinion that my
promotion was due to favoritism. Arrived at headquarters, I obtained
leave to go to Richmond, where, after an affectionate reception, the
President listened to the story of my feelings, the reasons on which
they were based, and the request that the promotion should be revoked.
He replied that he would take a day for reflection before deciding the
matter. The following day I was told that the answer to my appeal would
be forwarded to the army, to which I immediately returned. The President
had employed the delay in writing a letter to the senior officers of the
brigade, in which he began by stating that promotions to the grade of
general officer were by law intrusted to him, and were made for
considerations of public good, of which he alone was judge. He then, out
of abundant kindness for me, went on to soothe the feelings of these
officers with a tenderness and delicacy of touch worthy a woman's hand,
and so effectually as to secure me their hearty support. No wonder that
all who enjoy the friendship of Jefferson Davis love him as Jonathan did
David.
Several weeks without notable incident were devoted to instruction,
especially in marching, the only military quality for which Southern
troops had no aptitude. Owing to the good traditions left by my
predecessor, Walker, and the zeal of officers and men, the brigade made
great progress.
With the army at this time was a battalion of three companies from
Louisiana, commanded by Major Wheat. These detached companies had been
thrown together previous to the fight at Manassas, where Wheat was
severely wounded. The strongest of the three, and giving character to
all, was called the "Tigers." Recruited on the levee and in the alleys
of New Orleans, the men might have come out of "Alsatia," where they
would have been worthy subjects of that illustrious potentate, "Duke
Hildebrod." The captain, who had succeeded to the immediate command of
these worthies on the advancement of Wheat, enjoying the luxury of many
aliases, called himself White, perhaps out of respect for the purity of
the patriotic garb lately assumed. So villainous was the reputation of
this battalion that every commander desired to be rid of it; and
General Johnston assigned it to me, despite my efforts to decline the
honor of such society. He promised, however, to sustain me in any
measures to enforce discipline, and but a few hours elapsed before the
fulfillment of the promise was exacted. For some disorder after tattoo,
several "Tigers" were arrested and placed in charge of the brigade
guard. Their comrades attempted to force the guard and release them. The
attempt failed, and two ringleaders were captured and put in irons for
the night. On the ensuing morning an order for a general court-martial
was obtained from army headquarters, and the court met at 10 A.M. The
prisoners were found guilty, and sentenced to be shot at sunset. I
ordered the "firing party" to be detailed from their own company; but
Wheat and his officers begged to be spared this hard duty, fearing that
the "Tigers" would refuse to fire on their comrades. I insisted for the
sake of the example, and pointed out the serious consequences of
disobedience by their men. The brigade, under arms, was marched out; and
as the news had spread, many thousands from other commands flocked to
witness the scene. The firing party, ten "Tigers," was drawn up fifteen
paces from the prisoners, the brigade provost gave the command to fire,
and the unhappy men fell dead without a struggle. This account is given
because it was the first military execution in the Army of Northern
Virginia; and punishment, so closely following offense, produced a
marked effect. But Major "Bob" Wheat deserves an extended notice.
In the early summer of 1846, after the victories of Palo Alto and Resaca
de la Palma, the United States Army under General Zachary Taylor lay
near the town of Matamoros. Visiting the hospital of a recently joined
volunteer corps from the States, I remarked a bright-eyed youth of some
nineteen years, wan with disease, but cheery withal. The interest he
inspired led to his removal to army headquarters, where he soon
recovered health and became a pet. This was Bob Wheat, son of an
Episcopal clergyman, who had left school to come to the war. He next
went to Cuba with Lopez, was wounded and captured, but escaped the
garrote to follow Walker to Nicaragua. Exhausting the capacities of
South American patriots to _pronounce_, he quitted their society in
disgust, and joined Garibaldi in Italy, whence his keen scent of combat
summoned him home in convenient time to receive a bullet at Manassas.
The most complete Dugald Dalgetty possible, he had "all the defects of
the good qualities" of that doughty warrior.
Some months after the time of which I am writing, a body of Federal
horse was captured in the valley of Virginia. The colonel commanding,
who had been dismounted in the fray, approached me. A stalwart man, with
huge mustaches, cavalry boots adorned with spurs worthy of a
_caballero_, slouched hat, and plume, he strode along with the
nonchalant air of one who had wooed Dame Fortune too long to be cast
down by her frowns. Suddenly Major Wheat, near by, sprang from his horse
with a cry of "Percy! old boy!" "Why, Bob!" was echoed back, and a warm
embrace was exchanged. Colonel Percy Wyndham, an Englishman in the
Federal service, had last parted from Wheat in Italy, or some other
country where the pleasant business of killing was going on, and now
fraternized with his friend in the manner described.
Poor Wheat! A month later, and he slept his last sleep on the bloody
field of Cold Harbor. He lies there in a soldier's grave. Gallant
spirit! let us hope that his readiness to die for his cause has made
"the scarlet of his sins like unto wool."
As the autumn of the year 1861 passed away, the question of army
organization pressed for solution, while divergent opinions were held by
the Government at Richmond and General Johnston. The latter sent me to
President Davis to explain his views and urge their adoption. My mission
met with no success; but in discharging it, I was made aware of the
estrangement growing up between these eminent persons, which
subsequently became "the spring of woes unnumbered." An earnest effort
made by me to remove the cloud, then "no greater than a man's hand,"
failed; though the elevation of character of the two men, which made
them listen patiently to my appeals, justified hope. Time but served to
widen the breach. Without the knowledge and despite the wishes of
General Johnston, the descendants of the ancient dwellers in the cave
of Adullam gathered themselves behind his shield, and shot their arrows
at President Davis and his advisers, weakening the influence of the head
of the cause for which all were struggling.
Immediately after the birth of the Confederacy, a resolution was adopted
by the "Provisional Congress" declaring that military and naval
officers, resigning the service of the United States Government to enter
that of the Confederate, would preserve their relative rank. Later on,
the President was authorized to make five appointments to the grade of
general. These appointments were announced after the battle of Manassas,
and in the following order of seniority: Samuel Cooper, Albert Sidney
Johnston, Robert E. Lee, Joseph E. Johnston, and G.T. Beauregard.
Near the close of President Buchanan's administration, in 1860, died
General Jesup, Quartermaster-General of the United States army; and
Joseph E. Johnston, then lieutenant-colonel of cavalry, was appointed to
the vacancy. Now the Quartermaster-General had the rank, pay, and
emoluments of a brigadier-general; but the rank was staff, and by law
this officer could not exercise command over troops unless by special
assignment. When, in the spring of 1861, the officers in question
entered the service of the Confederacy, Cooper had been Adjutant-General
of the United States Army, with the rank of colonel; Albert Sidney
Johnston, colonel and brigadier-general by brevet, and on duty as such;
Lee, lieutenant-colonel of cavalry, senior to Joseph E. Johnston in the
line before the latter's appointment above mentioned; Beauregard, major
of engineers. In arranging the order of seniority of generals, President
Davis held to the superiority of line to staff rank, while Joseph E.
Johnston took the opposite view, and sincerely believed that injustice
was done him.
After the grave and wondrous scenes through which we have passed, all
this seems like "a tempest in a tea-pot;" but it had much influence and
deserves attention.
General Beauregard, who about this time was transferred to the army in
the West, commanded by Albert Sidney Johnston, was also known to have
grievances. Whatever their source, it could not have been _rank_; but it
is due to this General--a gentleman of taste--to say that no utterances
came from him. Indiscreet persons at Richmond, claiming the privilege
and discharging the duty of friendship, gave tongue to loud and frequent
plaints, and increased the confusion of the hour.
As the year 1862 opened, and the time for active movements drew near,
weighty cares attended the commander of the Army of Northern Virginia.
The folly of accepting regiments for the short period of twelve months,
to which allusion has been made, was now apparent. Having taken service
in the spring of 1861, the time of many of the troops would expire just
as the Federal host in their front might be expected to advance. A large
majority of the men were willing to reenlist, provided that they could
first go home to arrange private affairs; and fortunately, the fearful
condition of the country permitted the granting of furloughs on a large
scale. Except on a few pikes, movements were impossible, and an army
could no more have marched across country than across Chesapeake bay.
Closet warriors in cozy studies, with smooth macadamized roadways before
their doors, sneer at the idea of military movements being arrested by
mud. I apprehend that these gentlemen have never served in a bad country
during the rainy season, and are ignorant of the fact that, in his
Russian campaign, the elements proved too strong for the genius of
Napoleon.
General Johnston met the difficulties of his position with great
coolness, tact, and judgment; but his burden was by no means lightened
by the interference of certain politicians at Richmond. These were
perhaps inflamed by the success that had attended the tactical efforts
of their Washington peers. At all events, they now threw themselves upon
military questions with much ardor. Their leader was Alexander H.
Stephens of Georgia, Vice-President of the Confederacy, who is entitled
to a place by himself.
Like the celebrated John Randolph of Roanoke, Mr. Stephens has an acute
intellect attached to a frail and meagre body. As was said by the witty
Canon of St. Paul's of Francis Jeffrey, his mind is in a state of
indecent exposure. A trained and skillful politician, he was for many
years before the war returned to the United States House of
Representatives from the district in which he resides, and his "device"
seems always to have been, "Fiat justitia, ruat coelum." When, in
December, 1849, the Congress assembled, there was a Whig administration,
and the same party had a small majority in the lower House, of which Mr.
Stephens, an ardent Whig, was a member; but he could not see his way to
support his party's candidate for Speaker, and this inability to find a
road, plain mayhap to weaker organs, secured the control of the House to
his political adversaries. During the exciting period preceding
"secession" Mr. Stephens held and avowed moderate opinions; but, swept
along by the resistless torrent surrounding him, he discovered and
proclaimed that "slavery was the corner-stone of the confederacy." In
the strong vernacular of the West, this was "rather piling the agony" on
the humanitarians, whose sympathies were not much quickened toward us
thereby. As the struggle progressed, Mr. Stephens, with all the
impartiality of an equity judge, marked many of the virtues of the
Government north of the Potomac, and all the vices of that on his own
side of the river. Regarding the military questions in hand he
entertained and publicly expressed original opinions, which I will
attempt to convey as accurately as possible. The war was for principles
and rights, and it was in defense of these, as well as of their
property, that the people had taken up arms. They could always be relied
on when a battle was imminent; but, when no fighting was to be done,
they had best be at home attending to their families and interests. As
their intelligence was equal to their patriotism, they were as capable
of judging of the necessity of their presence with the colors as the
commanders of armies, who were but professional soldiers fighting for
rank and pay, and most of them without property in the South. It may be
observed that such opinions are more comfortably cherished by political
gentlemen, two hundred miles away, than by commanders immediately in
front of the enemy.
In July, 1865, two months after the close of the great war, I visited
Washington in the hope of effecting some change in the condition of
Jefferson Davis, then ill and a prisoner at Fortress Monroe; and this
visit was protracted to November before its object was accomplished. In
the latter part of October of the same year Mr. Stephens came to
Washington, where he was the object of much attention on the part of
people controlling the Congress and the country. Desiring his
cooeperation in behalf of Mr. Davis, I sought and found him sitting near
a fire (for he is of a chilly nature), smoking his pipe. He heard me in
severe politeness, and, without unnecessary expenditure of enthusiasm,
promised his assistance. Since the war Mr. Stephens has again found a
seat in the Congress, where, unlike the rebel brigadiers, his presence
is not a rock of offense to the loyal mind.[1]
[Footnote 1: The foregoing sketch of Mr. Stephens appeared substantially
in the "North American Review," but the date of the interview in
Washington was not stated. Thereupon Mr. Stephens, in print, seized on
July, and declared that, as he was a prisoner in Fort Warren during that
month, the interview was a "Munchausenism." He also disputes the
correctness of the opinions concerning military matters ascribed to him,
although scores of his associates at Richmond will attest it. Again, he
assumes the non-existence of twelve-months' regiments because some took
service for the war, etc.
Like other ills, feeble health has its compensations, especially for
those who unite restless vanity and ambition to a feminine desire for
sympathy. It has been much the habit of Mr. Stephens to date
controversial epistles from "a sick chamber," as do ladies in a delicate
situation. A diplomatist of the last century, the Chevalier D'Eon, by
usurping the privileges of the opposite sex, inspired grave doubts
concerning his own.]