CHAPTER VII

THE CONDITIONS OF THE WAR

In recounting the history of Lincoln's Presidency, it will be necessary

to mark the course of the Civil War stage by stage as we proceed.

There are, however, one or two general features of the contest with

which it may be well to deal by way of preface.

It has seldom happened that a people entering upon a great war have

understood at the outset what the character of that war would be. When

the American Civil War broke out the North expected an easy victory,

but, as disappointment came soon and was long maintained, many clever

people adopted the opinion, which early prevailed in Europe, that there

was no possibility of their success at all. At the first the

difficulty of the task was unrecognised; under early and long-sustained

disappointment the strength by which those difficulties could be

overcome began to be despaired of without reason.

The North, after several slave States, which were at first doubtful,

had adhered to it, had more than double the population of the South; of

the Southern population a very large part were slaves, who, though

industrially useful, could not be enlisted. In material resources the

superiority of the North was no less marked, and its material wealth

grew during the war to a greater extent than had perhaps ever happened

to any other belligerent power. These advantages were likely to be

decisive in the end, if the North could and would endure to the end.

But at the very beginning these advantages simply did not tell at all,

for the immediately available military force of the North was

insignificant, and that of the South clearly superior to it; and even

when they began to tell, it was bound to be very long before their full

weight could be brought to bear. And the object which was to be

obtained was supremely difficult of attainment. It was not a defeat of

the South which might result in the alteration of a frontier, the

cession of some Colonies, the payment of an indemnity, and such like

matters; it was a conquest of the South so complete that the Union

could be restored on a firmer basis than before. Any less result than

this would be failure in the war. And the country, to be thus

completely conquered by an unmilitary people of nineteen millions, was

of enormous extent: leaving out of account the huge outlying State of

Texas, which is larger than Germany, the remaining Southern States

which joined in the Confederacy have an area somewhat larger than that

of Germany, Austria-Hungary, Holland, and Belgium put together; and

this great region had no industrial centres or other points of such

great strategic importance that by the occupation of them the remaining

area could be dominated. The feat which the Northern people eventually

achieved has been said by the English historians of the war (perhaps

with some exaggeration) to have been "a greater one than that which

Napoleon attempted to his own undoing when he invaded Russia in 1812."

On the other hand, the South was in some respects very favourably

placed for resisting invasion from the North. The Southern forces

during most of the war were, in the language of military writers,

operating on interior lines; that is, the different portions of them

lay nearer to one another than did the different portions of the

Northern forces, and could be more quickly brought to converge on the

same point; the country abounded in strong positions for defence which

could be held by a relatively small force, while in every invading

movement the invaders had to advance long distances from the base, thus

exposing their lines of communication to attack. The advantage of this

situation, if competent use were made of it, was bound to go very far

towards compensating for inferiority of numbers; the North could not

make its superior numbers on land tell in any rapidly decisive fashion

without exposing itself to dangerous counter-strokes. In naval

strength its superiority was asserted almost from the first, and by

cutting off foreign supplies caused the Southern armies to suffer

severe privations before the war was half through; but its full effect

could only be produced very slowly. Thus, if its people were brave and

its leaders capable, the South was by no means in so hopeless a case as

might at first have appeared; with good fortune it might hope to strike

its powerful antagonist some deadly blow before that antagonist could

bring its strength to bear; and even if this hope failed, a

sufficiently tenacious defence might well wear down the patience of the

North.

As soldiers the Southerners started with a superiority which the

Northerners could only overtake slowly. If each people were taken in

the mass, the proportion of Southerners bred to an outdoor life was

higher. Generally speaking, if not exactly more frugal, they were far

less used to living comfortably. Above all, all classes of people

among them were still accustomed to think of fighting as a normal and

suitable occupation for a man; while the prevailing temper of the North

thought of man as meant for business, and its higher temper was apt to

think of fighting as odious and war out of date. This, like the other

advantages of the South, was transitory; before very long Northerners

who became soldiers at a sacrifice of inclination, from the highest

spirit of patriotism or in the methodic temper in which business has to

be done, would become man for man as good soldiers as the Southerners;

but the original superiority of the Southerners would continue to have

a moral effect in their own ranks and on the mind of the enemy, more

especially of the enemy's generals, even after its cause had ceased to

exist; and herein the military advantage of the South was undoubtedly,

through the first half of the war, considerable.

In the matter of leadership the South had certain very real and certain

other apparent but probably delusive advantages. The United States had

no large number of trained military officers, still capable of active

service. The armies of the North and South alike had to be commanded

and staffed to a great extent by men who first studied their profession

in that war; and the lack of ripe military judgment was likely to be

felt most in the higher commands where the forces to be employed and

co-ordinated were largest. The South secured what may be called its

fair proportion of the comparatively few officers, but it was of

tremendous moment that, among the officers who, when the war began,

were recognised as competent, two, who sadly but in simple loyalty to

the State of Virginia took the Southern side, were men of genius. The

advantages of the South would have been no advantages without skill and

resolution to make use of them. The main conditions of the war--the

vast space, the difficulty in all parts of it of moving troops, the

generally low level of military knowledge--were all such as greatly

enhance the opportunities of the most gifted commander. Lee and

"Stonewall" Jackson thus became, the former throughout the war, the

latter till he was killed in the summer of 1863, factors of primary

importance in the struggle. Wolseley, who had, besides studying their

record, conversed both with Lee and with Moltke, thought Lee even

greater than Moltke, and the military writers of our day speak of him

as one of the great commanders of history. As to Jackson, Lee's belief

in him is sufficient testimony to his value. And the good fortune of

the South was not confined to these two signal instances. Most of the

Southern generals who appeared early in the war could be retained in

important commands to the end.

The South might have seemed at first equally fortunate in the character

of the Administration at the back of the generals. An ascendency was

at once conceded to Jefferson Davis, a tried political leader, to which

Lincoln had to win his way, and the past experiences of the two men had

been very different. The operations of war in which Lincoln had taken

part were confined, according to his own romantic account in a speech

in Congress, to stealing ducks and onions from the civil population;

his Ministers were as ignorant in the matter as he; their military

adviser, Scott, was so infirm that he had soon to retire, and it proved

most difficult to replace him. Jefferson Davis, on the other hand,

started with knowledge of affairs, including military affairs; he had

been Secretary of War in Pierce's Cabinet and Chairman of the Senate

Committee on War since then; above all, he had been a soldier and had

commanded a regiment with some distinction in the Mexican War. It is

thought that he would have preferred a military command to the

Presidency of the Confederacy, and as his own experience of actual war

was as great as that of his generals, he can hardly be blamed for a

disposition to interfere with them at the beginning. But military

historians, while criticising (perhaps a little hastily) all Lincoln's

interventions in the affairs of war up to the time when he found

generals whom he trusted, insist that Davis' systematic interference

was far more harmful to his cause; and Wolseley, who watched events

closely from Canada and who visited the Southern Army in 1863, is most

emphatic in this opinion. He interfered with Lee to an extent which

nothing but Lee's devoted friendship and loyalty could have made

tolerable. He put himself into relations of dire hostility with Joseph

Johnston, and in 1864 suspended him in the most injudicious manner.

Above all, when the military position of the South had begun to be

acutely perilous, Jefferson Davis neither devised for himself, nor

allowed his generals to devise, any bold policy by which the chance

that still remained could be utilised. His energy of will showed

itself in the end in nothing but a resolution to protract bloodshed

after it had certainly become idle.

If we turn to the political conditions, on which, in any but a short

war, so much depends, the South will appear to have had great

advantages. Its people were more richly endowed than the mixed and

crudely democratic multitude of the North, in the traditional aptitude

for commanding or obeying which enables people to pull together in a

crisis. And they were united in a cause such as would secure the

sustained loyalty of any ordinary people under any ordinary leader.

For, though it was nothing but slavery that led to their assertion of

independence, from the moment that they found themselves involved in

war, they were fighting for a freedom to which they felt themselves

entitled, and for nothing else whatever. A few successful encounters

at the start tempted the ordinary Southerner to think himself a better

man than the ordinary Northerner, even as the Southern Congressmen felt

themselves superior to the persons whom the mistaken democracy of the

North too frequently elected. This claim of independence soon acquired

something of the fierce pride that might have been felt by an ancient

nation. But it would have been impossible that the Northern people as

a whole should be similarly possessed by the cause in which they

fought. They did not seem to be fighting for their own liberty, and

they would have hated to think that they were fighting for conquest.

They were fighting for the maintenance of a national unity which they

held dear. The question how far it was worth fighting a formidable

enemy for the sake of eventual unity with him, was bound to present

itself. Thus, far from wondering that the cause of the Union aroused

no fuller devotion than it did in the whole lump of the Northern

people, we may wonder that it inspired with so lofty a patriotism men

and women in every rank of life who were able to leaven that lump. But

the political element in this war was of such importance as to lead to

a startling result; the North came nearest to yielding at a time when

in a military sense its success had become sure. To preserve a united

North was the greatest and one of the hardest of the duties of

President Lincoln.

To a civilian reader the history of the war, in spite of the

picturesque incidents of many battles, may easily be made dreary. Till

far on in the lengthy process of subjecting the South, we might easily

become immersed in some futile story of how General X. was superseded

by General Y. in a command, for which neither discovered any purpose

but that of not co-operating with General Z. And this impression is

not merely due to our failure to understand the difficulties which

confronted these gallant officers. The dearth of trained military

faculty, which was felt at the outset, could only be made good by the

training which the war itself supplied. Such commanders as Grant and

Sherman and Sheridan not only could not have been recognised at the

beginning of the war; they were not then the soldiers that they

afterwards became. And the want was necessarily very serious in the

case of the higher commands which required the movement of large

forces, the control of subordinates each of whom must have a wide

discretion, and the energy of intellect and will necessary for

resolving the more complex problems of strategy. We are called upon to

admire upon both sides the devotion of forgotten thousands, and to

admire upon the side of the South the brilliant and daring operations

by which in so many battles Lee and Jackson defeated superior forces.

On the Northern side, later on, great generals came to view, but it is

in the main a different sort of achievement which we are called upon to

appreciate. An Administration appointed to direct a stupendous

operation of conquest was itself of necessity ill prepared for such a

task; behind it were a Legislature and a public opinion equally ill

prepared to support and to assist it. There were in its military

service many intelligent and many enterprising men, but none, at first,

so combining intelligence and enterprise that he could grapple with any

great responsibility or that the civil power would have been warranted

in reposing complete confidence in him. The history of the war has to

be recounted in this volume chiefly with a view to these difficulties

of the Administration.

One of the most interesting features of the war would, in any military

study of it, be seen to be the character of the troops on both sides.

On both sides their individual quality was high; on both, circumstances

and the disposition of the people combined to make discipline weak.

This character, common to the two armies, was conspicuous in many

battles of the war, but a larger interest attaches to the policy of the

two administrations in raising and organising their civilian armies.

The Southern Government, if its proceedings were studied in detail,

would probably seem to have been better advised at the start on matters

of military organisation; for instance, it had early and long retained

a superiority in cavalry which was not a mere result of good fortune.

But here, too, there was an inherent advantage in the very fact that

the South had started upon a desperate venture. There can hardly be a

more difficult problem of detail for statesmen than the co-ordination

of military and civil requirements in the raising of an army. But in

the South all civil considerations merged themselves in the paramount

necessity of a military success for which all knew the utmost effort

was needed. The several States of the South, claiming as they did a

far larger independence than the Northern States, knew that they could

only make that claim good by being efficient members of the

Confederacy. Thus it was comparatively easy for the Confederate

Government to adopt and maintain a consecutive policy in this matter,

and though, from the conditions of a widely spread agricultural

population, voluntary enlistment produced poor results at the beginning

of the war, it appears to have been easy to introduce quite early an

entirely compulsory system of a stringent kind.

The introduction of compulsory service in the North has its place in

our subsequent story. The system that preceded it need not be dwelt

upon here, because, full of instruction as a technical study of it

(such as has been made by Colonel Henderson) must be, no brief survey

by an amateur could be useful. It is necessary, however, to understand

the position in which Lincoln's Administration was placed, without much

experience In America, or perhaps elsewhere in the world, to guide it.

It must not be contended, for it cannot be known that the problem was

fully and duly envisaged by Lincoln on his Cabinet, but it would

probably in any case have been impossible for them to pursue from the

first a consecutive and well-thought-out policy for raising an army and

keeping up its strength. The position of the North differed

fundamentally from that of the South; the North experienced neither the

ardour nor the throes of a revolution; it was never in any fear of

being conquered, only of not conquering. There was nothing, therefore,

which at once bestowed on the Government a moral power over the country

vastly in excess of that which it exercised in normal times. This,

however, was really necessary to it if the problem of the Army was to

be handled in the way which was desirable from a military point of

view. Compulsory service could not at first be thought of. It was

never supposed that the tiny regular Army of the United States

Government could be raised to any very great size by voluntary

enlistment, and the limited increase of it which was attempted was not

altogether successful. The existing militia system of the several

States was almost immediately found faulty and was discarded. A great

Volunteer Force had to be raised which should be under the command of

the President, who by the Constitution is Commander-in-Chief of the

forces of the Union, but which must be raised in each State by the

State Governor (or, if he was utterly wanting, by leading local

citizens). Now State Governors are not--it must be recalled--officers

under the President, but independent potentates acting usually in as

much detachment from him as the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford or Cambridge

from the Board of Education or a Presbyterian minister from a bishop.

This group of men, for the most part able, patriotic, and determined,

were there to be used and had to be consulted. It follows that the

policy of the North in raising and organising its armies had at first

to be a policy evolved between numerous independent authorities which

never met and were held together by a somewhat ignorant public opinion,

sometimes much depressed and sometimes, which was worse, oversanguine.

It is impossible to judge exactly how ill or how well Lincoln, under

such circumstances, grappled with this particular problem, but many

anomalies which seem to us preposterous--the raising of raw new

regiments when fine seasoned regiments were short of half their

strength, and so forth--were in these circumstances inevitable. The

national system of recruiting, backed by compulsion, which was later

set up, still required for its success the co-operation of State and

local authorities of this wholly independent character.

Northern and Southern armies alike had necessarily to be commanded to a

great extent by amateur officers; the number of officers, in the

service or retired, who had been trained at West Point, was

immeasurably too small for the needs of the armies. Amateurs had to be

called in, and not only so, but they had in some cases to be given very

important commands. The not altogether unwholesome tradition that a

self-reliant man can turn his hand to anything was of course very

strong in America, and the short military annals of the country had

been thought to have added some illustrious instances to the roll of

men of peace who have distinguished themselves in arms. So a political

leader, no matter whether he was Democrat or Republican, who was a man

of known general capacity, would sometimes at first seem suitable for

an important command rather than the trained but unknown professional

soldier who was the alternative. Moreover, it seemed foolish not to

appoint him, when, as sometimes happened, he could bring thousands of

recruits from his State. The Civil War turned out, however, to show

the superiority of the duly trained military mind in a marked degree.

Some West-Pointers of repute of course proved incapable, and a great

many amateur colonels and generals, both North and South, attained a

very fair level of competence in the service (the few conspicuous

failures seem to have been quite exceptional); but, all the same, of

the many clever and stirring men who then took up soldiering as novices

and served for four years, not one achieved brilliant success; of the

generals in the war whose names are remembered, some had indeed passed

years in civil life, but every one had received a thorough military

training in the years of his early manhood. It certainly does not

appear that the Administration was really neglectful of professional

merit; it hungered to find it; but many appointments must at first have

been made in a haphazard fashion, for there was no machinery for

sifting claims. A zealous but unknown West-Pointer put under an

outsider would be apt to write as Sherman did in early days: "Mr.

Lincoln meant to insult me and the Army"; and a considerable jealousy

evidently arose between West-Pointers and amateurs. It was aggravated

by the rivalry between officers of the Eastern army and those of the,

more largely amateur, Western army. The amateurs, too, had something

to say on their side; they were apt to accuse West-Pointers as a class

of a cringing belief that the South was invincible. There was nothing

unnatural or very serious in all this, but political influences which

arose later caused complaints of this nature to be made the most of,

and a general charge to be made against Lincoln's Administration of

appointing generals and removing them under improper political

influences. This general charge, however, rests upon a limited number

of alleged instances, and all of these which are of any importance will

necessarily be examined in later chapters.

It may be useful to a reader who wishes to follow the main course of

the war carefully, if the chief ways in which geographical facts

affected it are here summarised--necessarily somewhat dryly. Minor

operations at outlying points on the coast or in the Far West will be

left out of account, so also will a serious political consideration,

which we shall later see caused doubt for a time as to the proper

strategy of the North.

It must be noted first, startling as it may be to Englishmen who

remember the war partly by the exploits of the _Alabama_, that the

naval superiority of the North was overwhelming. In spite of many

gallant efforts by the Southern sailors, the North could blockade their

coasts and could capture most of the Southern ports long before its

superiority on land was established. Turning then to land, we may

treat the political frontier between the two powers, after a short

preliminary stage of war, as being marked by the southern boundaries of

Maryland, West Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri, just as they are seen

on the map to-day. In doing so, we must note that at the commencement

of large operations parts of Kentucky and Missouri were occupied by

Southern invading forces. This frontier is cut, not far from the

Atlantic, by the parallel mountain chains which make up the Alleghanies

or Appalachians. These in effect separated the field of operations

into a narrow Eastern theatre of war, and an almost boundless Western

theatre; and the operations in these two theatres were almost to the

end independent of each other.

In the Eastern theatre of war lies Washington, the capital of the

Union, a place of great importance to the North for obvious reasons,

and especially because if it fell European powers would be likely to

recognise the Confederacy. It lies, on the Potomac, right upon the

frontier; and could be menaced also in the rear, for the broad and

fertile trough between the mountain chains formed by the valley of the

Shenandoah River, which flows northward to join the Potomac at a point

north-west of Washington, was in Confederate hands and formed a sort of

sally-port by which a force from Richmond could get almost behind

Washington. A hundred miles south of Washington lay Richmond, which

shortly became the capital of the Confederates, instead of Montgomery

in Alabama. As a brand-new capital it mattered little to the

Confederates, though at the very end of the war it became their last

remaining stronghold. The intervening country, which was in Southern

hands, was extraordinarily difficult. The reader may notice on the map

the rivers with broad estuaries which are its most marked features, and

with the names of which we shall become familiar. The rivers

themselves were obstacles to an invading Northern army; their

estuaries, on the other hand, soon afforded it safe communication by

sea.

In the Western theatre of war we must remember first the enormous

length of frontier in proportion to the population on either side.

This necessarily made the progress of Northern invasion slow, and its

proper direction hard to determine, for diversions could be created by

a counter-invasion elsewhere along the frontier or a stroke at the

invaders' communications. The principal feature of the whole region is

the great waterways, on which the same advantages which gave the sea to

the North gave it also an immense superiority in the river warfare of

flotillas of gunboats. When the North with its gunboats could get

control of the Mississippi the South would be deprived of a

considerable part of its territory and resources, and cut off from its

last means of trading with Europe (save for the relief afforded by

blockade-runners) by being cut off from Mexico and its ports. Further,

when the North could control the tributaries of the Mississippi,

especially the Cumberland and the Tennessee which flow into the great

river through the Ohio, it would cut deep into the internal

communications of the South. Against this menace the South could only

contend by erecting powerful fortresses on the rivers, and the capture

of some of them was the great object of the earlier Northern operations.

The railway system of the South must also be taken into account in

connection with their waterways. This, of course, cannot be seen on a

modern map. Perhaps the following may make the main points clear. The

Southern railway system touched the Mississippi and the world beyond it

at three points only: Memphis, Vicksburg, and New Orleans. A traveller

wishing to go, say, from Richmond by rail towards the West could have,

if distance were indifferent to him, a choice of three routes for part

of the way. He could go through Knoxville in Tennessee to Chattanooga

in that State, where he had a choice of routes further West, or he

could take one of two alternative lines south into Georgia and thence

go either to Atlanta or to Columbus in the west of that State. Arrived

at Atlanta or Columbus, he could proceed further West either by making

a detour northwards through Chattanooga or by making a detour

southwards through the seaport town of Mobile, crossing the harbour by

boat. Thus the capture of Chattanooga from the South would go far

towards cutting the whole Southern railway system in two, and the

capture of Mobile would complete it. Lastly, we may notice two lines

running north and south through the State of Mississippi, one through

Corinth and Meridian, and the other nearer the great river. From this

and the course of the rivers the strategic importance of some of the

towns mentioned may be partly appreciated.

The subjugation of the South in fact began by a process, necessarily

slow and much interrupted, whereby having been blockaded by sea it was

surrounded by land, cut off from its Western territory, and deprived of

its main internal lines of communication. Richmond, against which the

North began to move within the first three months of the war, did not

fall till nearly four years later, when the process just described had

been completed, and when a Northern army had triumphantly progressed,

wasting the resources of the country as it went, from Chattanooga to

Atlanta, thence to the Atlantic coast of Georgia, and thence northward

through the two Carolinas till it was about to join hands with the army

assailing Richmond. Throughout this time the attention of a large part

of the Northern public and of all those who watched the war from Europe

was naturally fastened to a great extent upon the desperate fighting

which occurred in the region of Washington and of Richmond and upon the

ill success of the North in endeavours of unforeseen difficulty against

the latter city. We shall see, however, that the long and humiliating

failure of the North in this quarter was neither so unaccountable nor

nearly so important as it appeared.

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