CHAPTER VIII.

HOW THE NEW GENERAL CAME TO TOWN.

MY artist has drawn you an exact picture of the manner in which this

great general entered the capital of the nation. The skies

brightened, and the country felt safe again at the thought of having

such a hero. Children laughed and gamboled, and said the rebels

would get it now Pope had come to town. Dogs ran out, and barked,

and snapped for joy. The crowd pressed forward to look at him, and

policemen, for once, had enough to do. Fair women waived

handkerchiefs and threw him kisses. And many were they who marvelled

that so great a soldier had remained so long undiscovered. You see,

my son, we are a people much given to excitement, and when we get to

heaping honors on a man we do it without mercy. Hence it pleased us

much when we saw Pope come to town amidst the beating of drums and

the blowing of horns. That was the way he came.

I have spoken of this great general's modesty, my son. It will also

be necessary for me to inform you that he introduced a new idea in

war, one worthy of being added to the regulations, and that was that

every general should be his own trumpeter, as well as keep a number

of trumpeters in his employ.

Then Pope went out to see and have a talk with his army. He also

published a grand order to his soldiers, which will stand as a great

curiosity in our war literature, as long as the history of the

rebellion, for its wisdom astonished the people. He told them the

war had been carried on after a strange fashion, which he intended

should be changed. He enjoined them, in a word, neither to look to

the right nor the left, but to keep straight ahead, with their steel

sharp and their powder dry. And when they got near enough to the

enemy to see the color of his eye, then deliver their lead right

square into his stomach. That was the way war must be carried on.

Our army must look only to the front, keep its eye open, and forget

that there was such a thing as its rear.

This was highly encouraging to those politicians who said our army

must get to Richmond over the shortest road. After what I have said,

my son, you will not fail to see what a great general this Pope was.

Great generals were not generally generous enough to intrust the

care of their rear to the enemy. But this was not all. He

established his headquarters in the saddle, and told his soldiers

they would always find him there. My opinion has always been, though

I have never had much to do with war, that the general who

establishes his headquarters in the saddle, was not always to be

found when you wanted him. In short, the saddle is a very uncertain

locality, and very difficult to find when you have information to

convey, and orders to receive; both of which may be necessary during

a battle. I rode an hour once to find a general whose headquarters

were in the saddle, and did n't find him after all.

When, then, this great general had shown us how the rebels were to

be whipped, he went out to take command of his army. And again there

was great blowing of horns and beating of drums. And when he had got

his headquarters firmly established in the saddle, he invited the

enemy to come forward and get whipped. And the enemy came forward in

all their strength,--fierce and earnest, and a great and bloody

battle was fought on the plains of Manassas. And when they had

fought for three days General Pope declared his new method of

carrying on the war was a great success; that he had got the rebels

just where he wanted them, and would have them all in his trap for

us to-morrow. We all threw up our caps and felt so happy at this

good news. But our hopes were dashed to the ground again, and it

turned out that our Pope had made a slight mistake. It was the

rebels who had got him just where they wanted. The saddle was not a

good place from which to see what the enemy were doing. And as Pope

had given no heed to his rear, General Lee very wisely took the

responsibility of giving that important position his attention.

When, then, to-morrow came, our general, who was to give the rebels

such a whipping for us, found them in his rear, on his flank,

everywhere but where he wanted them. The very natural result of this

was that his army resolved itself into a state of confusion, and in

that manner came scampering back on Washington, leaving its

commander to take care of himself, which he did, though with the

loss of his wardrobe. It has been hinted that he returned to

Washington a much wiser general than when he left it.

The nation was again brought to grief, and fear and disorder reigned

in Washington. People were heard to say that Pope had made a

prodigious failure, and was not the general we took him for, or he

never would have let his army run away from him in this way. Others

declared he had opened the gates of the city to the enemy, and

invited him to walk in. And it was not with feelings of

encouragement that they saw gunboats move up and take position where

they could check the enemy's approach. Never did general lose his

laurels so quickly. Indeed, my son, when he returned to Washington,

with little else than his saddle, there was not a dog to bark him a

welcome, nor a chambermaid to wave a napkin in his honor.

Timid people fancied every hour of the day that they could see the

rebel army deploying over the hills of Arlington, and loud calls

were made for a general who could save us. But we had something

better than a mere general to save us. We had the grim and silent

strength of the forts. And these the enemy dare not approach. Their

effect on the enemy was manifest and he turned aside from them, and

passed up into Maryland, victorious and defiant.

I ought to tell you, my son, that while Pope was illustrating the

beauties of his new plan at the front, and bringing confusion on our

arms, General George arrived with his good old army of the Potomac,

which still loved him, still worshipped him as its hero. And just

when he was most needed, to save Pope from his disaster, the

government relieved him of his command, as if to increase the

confusion already prevailing. The army felt this as a slight offered

to itself, and called loudly for the restoration of its favorite

general. And then the general, whose portrait I have placed at the

head of a previous chapter, and who sat in his easy chair in

Washington, and brought our armies to grief, called loudly for

General George to come and help him out of his trouble. This, you

will see, my son, was first tying a man's hands, and then asking him

to come and help whip a giant.

Yes, my son, there was toil and trouble enough in Washington just

then; and the errors our wise men had committed were like witches

rising up and haunting them. It is said that the little bell-ringer

of the State Department had his traps packed up, and ready to move;

and that fear had made the burly man in the War Department civil.

Newly recruited volunteers, well fed, well clothed, and fresh

looking, were marching into the city with colors flying and drums

beating. The militia, which had come to Washington to do ornamental

duty for thirty days, were marching home with colors flying and

drums beating. Neither of these could give us relief in our trouble.

The nation had only the good old army of the Potomac to lean upon in

this its day of trouble. And how few of us, my son, think of this

matter properly, or are willing to give the brave men, who composed

that army, credit for what they had done. Like the English, we are

an exacting people, and inclined to ask too much of those who fight

our battles. Some of our public men were for forgetting what those

sun-scorched, ragged, and fever-stricken heroes had done for us on

the Peninsula, and even for wiping out their record of heroism.

I confess it was to me a sad and touching sight to see these

soldiers, who had served their country so well, who had suffered in

swamps, and fought and defeated the enemy, treated with what seemed

to me criminal indifference in the very capital they had returned to

save. They muttered their discontent at the loss of their favorite

commander, but were ready again to go forth, struggle with the

enemy, and fight for the life of the nation. But not a voice was

raised by the government to thank them for what they had done, not a

cheer to welcome their return. You must know, my son, that the

government was dumb with fear. The ghost of its errors so haunted it

that its lips were sealed. The people looked on and saw it, in its

very feebleness, asking for stronger hands to come and help it out

of its trouble.

There was, my son, but one army and one general that could save the

nation then. General George was that man, and the army was the good

old Army of the Potomac. And the government, as if to confess its

folly in the past, restored General George to his army. And there

was great rejoicing over the land when this good news went forth to

the people. And the army took more heart, and rejoiced also; and

great was its rejoicing. The soldiers had confidence in him, and

knew he could lead them to victory. Then he placed himself at their

head and marched out in pursuit of the enemy, who was advancing

triumphantly into the North. And who among us can tell what changes

there would have been in our political and social condition had not

the advance of this bold and triumphant enemy been checked by some

strong hand? I have often thought, my son, that if the people of a

republic were as ready to credit great men with the good they really

do, as they are to search their characters for faults, we should

have less pretenders and a better government.

CHAPTER VIII.

A BRIGHTER PROSPECT.

YOU have here an exact picture of the brave Franklin, who commanded

the gallant old Sixth Corps, which deserves a bright place in the

history of the Army of the Potomac.

When Pope had finished his job for us, and shown us what a hero he

was, the government, in the exercise of its wisdom, sent him into

the far West to fight the Indians, where he could, with propriety,

establish his headquarters in the saddle.

Franklin, who had been relieved of his command, for no one exactly

knew what, was now restored to it, to the great joy of the old Sixth

Corps. Soldiers fight better under a general they know and have

confidence in; and they are the best judges as to who is the most

competent to lead them. Franklin and his gallant corps fell in with

the enemy, posted in a strong position on the South Mountain, at

Crampton's Gap, and after a fierce fight, drove him from it and over

into the valley, sometimes charging up the steeps with the bayonet.

This was quite an important success, my son, since it checked the

enemy's advance, and caused him to fall back on the plains of

Antietam, and form his army in line of battle. Indeed, he so far

mistook this movement as to believe it an attempt to get in his

rear.

This gleam of success, gained by Franklin, inspired the nation with

new hope. Yes, my son, and it cheered the hearts of our brave

soldiers, restored their strength, and gave them new confidence.

Then General George formed his army in line on the plains of

Antietam, and a great and bloody battle was fought, and the rebel

army beaten and put to flight. Pay no heed, my son, to what the

prejudiced may say of this battle. It was one of the greatest

battles fought during the war. All honor to the brave soldiers who

fought it. Our troops, too, were handled with great skill, and the

world never saw better generalship than our George displayed. Yes,

my son, Antietam was our Waterloo, fought at a time when the nation

needed a victory most; and the general who fought it ought never to

be forgotten by his country. When, then, George had gained this

victory for us, had beaten and driven the enemy from all his

positions, and caused the nation to rejoice, he halted to give his

brave soldiers rest and repair damages. His losses were great, and

he had compassion on his soldiers, for many of them were without

shoes and had little raiment. In truth, my son, these brave, abused,

and war-worn soldiers had only the well-worn shoes and clothes they

had made the campaign of the Peninsula in.

George pleaded the necessity of his soldiers as a reason for his

delay, and very justly. But this pleased neither the government nor

the politicians whose bitterest prejudices seemed to control it.

These gentlemen urged that he follow the enemy at once and capture

him, a piece of strategy not so easily accomplished as many think.

In short, we were in no position to follow the enemy until we got

shoes and raiment for our brave soldiers. Nor could we have added

much to our success by following General Lee and his men, who had an

open country before them, until we were well prepared to engage them

in another battle. When, however, George got his army ready, he

moved directly on the enemy, and his soldiers were in the best of

spirits, for we had got General Lee and his men in a position where

he would be compelled to fight another battle, with the advantages

in our favor. Now I don't say, my son, that George would have won

this battle, but by fighting it he would have exposed the enemy's

real weakness, and placed him in a very bad position. But the

government, as if more willing to promote the prejudices of

politicians than to preserve the honor of our arms, resolved not to

let George fight another battle. Yes, my son, it removed him from

his command, and that, too, when he was close up with the enemy, and

was expecting every day to engage him in battle. I do not remember

that history records another instance where the commander of an

army, that had just gained a great victory, was so disgraced by his

own government.

The enemy could not have inflicted a more severe blow on our brave

army than was done by this act of our own government. A feeling of

disappointment and sorrow ran through the ranks, and the brave men

who had fought under and loved their commander, wept at the

injustice that took him away from them. It will, in time, be made

clear, my son, that the government committed a great crime against

our army by this act. It cannot be wisdom to remove a commander, so

popular with his army as George B. McClellan was, especially when

that army was on the eve of a battle. Such an act is sure to excite

dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction destroys discipline. Nor should

such a commander be removed at so critical a time unless the

government were prepared to fill his place with one of equal, if not

superior capacity. A general, to hope for success, must have the

confidence and respect of his troops. To remove one who has, and

fill his place with one who has not, is a crime than which none can

be greater. It is a crime against the brave men whose lives are at

the risk of the capacity of their commander. Our government

committed this crime when it gave the command of the army of the

Potomac to General Burnside. That general was the best judge of what

he could do, and freely confessed his incapacity for so high a

command. But the government was not to be put off by this confession

of weakness on the part of a general, preferring to reward him for

his honesty, and make no account of his capacity. I accept this, my

son, as the only reason why General Burnside was given so high a

command. As for his capacity as a general, he gave us a proof of

that when he let the rebels fall back, and get well fortified at

Fredericksburg. To show, however, what a general could do by

attempting impossibilities, he sent the brave army of the Potomac to

be slaughtered by an enemy covered with stone walls. I tell you, my

son, it was a dark day for the nation when that was done. It

multiplied our misfortunes, gave a deeper wound to our grief and

sorrow, and brought disgrace on our arms.

I will pass over these misfortunes as lightly, my son, as possible,

hoping only that they will serve us as a warning in the future.

Having buried Burnside deep under the misfortunes of his own

incapacity, the question again came up, where shall we find a

general to do up these rebels for us, and gain us a little victory?

The great Grant was doing wonders for us in the West. He was bold,

earnest, and brave. And this was the secret of his success. But in

the East we were sorely troubled for some one who could do

something.

General Hooker was brave and bold. But, my son, he had such a

weakness for blowing his own trumpet. Yes, he could blow it as loud

and as long as any trumpeter you ever listened to--Pope excepted. He

had declared of himself that he was just the man to lead our army to

victory, and give the enemy a sound thrashing. It was true, this

general had been very insubordinate. He had said a number of things,

neither wise nor polite, of his superiors. And he had set an example

to his soldiers not inclined to improve their discipline. As,

however, he had declared himself the man to lead our army to

victory, and the government wanted just such a man, it took the

general at his word, and gave him the command.

There were some people, my son, unkind enough to say, and say

boldly, that the government did this strange act more to show its

appreciation of insubordination than out of respect to his capacity

to discharge successfully the duties of his high position. When,

however, the general had talked himself into the very best opinion

of himself, he went to work nursing his grand army into good order.

Yes, my son, the old army of the Potomac was a grand army, and

General Hooker declared it was the finest on the face of the globe.

And he nursed it into good order on the left bank of the

Rappahannock, from December, 1862, to early April, 1863. The general

could get up of a morning, and enjoy a look at his old friend Lee,

quietly domiciled on the opposite bank. And General Lee could get up

of a morning, and do the same. Both generals regarded this as a very

harmless and pleasant way of spending the winter, while carrying on

the war. They would, at times, it is true, exchange compliments of a

belligerent nature. But this was only to give a lively turn to the

state of affairs around Fredericksburg. They were, I can assure you,

my son, not intended to harm any one.

CHAPTER IX.

CHANCELLORVILLE, AND THE CURIOUS FIGHT WE HAD THERE.

I AM sure my friends will all be anxious to see a portrait of the

great general who fought the great battle of Chancellorville. And my

artist has been particularly careful to present them with a good

one.

Chancellorville was a strangely fought battle, my son; I have

various good reasons for saying this, but, perhaps, it is best that

as little as possible be said concerning them.

When spring came, and the roads were dry, and the robins had begun

to sing in the trees, and the buds to put forth, General Hooker

began to feel strong, and full of battle. He said to his officers

that they must get their courage up, and be ready for a big fight,

every one in his own way. And to his men he said, that they must

have plenty of powder in their pouches, and not be afraid to use it.

A general to be successful, my son, must have confidence in himself.

General Hooker had confidence in himself, and felt that he could

whip the rebels out of their boots any fine morning. Hence it was,

that feeling in a fighting humor one morning in early April, he

picked up his army, and, crossing the stream, went in pursuit of the

enemy. He found the enemy posted in the woods near Chancellorville,

where he engaged him in a fierce and desperate battle. But the

general's plan, if he had any, soon got out of his head, and it

became apparent that he was fighting the battle in so strange a

manner that no one could understand it. In truth, the general set

aside the established rules of war early in the battle, and went

back to first principles. These give every man the right to fight in

his own way, and is beautifully illustrated in an army fighting

without orders. I am told, my son, on very good authority, that

these "first principles," as applied to fighting battles, never were

better developed than at Chancellorville. I am afraid, my son, we

shall never get a complete and accurate history of that

extraordinary battle, for the reason that no historian will be found

capable of describing it. It is certain that the battle had not

raged long when our army was in a state of uncertainty and

confusion. Sometimes the fight was between different brigades or

divisions of our own troops, who were as often brought face to face.

The enemy liked this, for it helped him to fight the battle without

reinforcements, and saved him a deal of trouble and loss. When we

had got a great many men killed in this way, and a great many more

severely hurt, the great question arose as to who had won the

battle, and who got whipped. There can be little doubt as to the

impression made on General Lee's mind on this point. General Hooker

was sure he had gained a great victory, and yet he was not so sure.

I say he was not so sure, since he found it necessary, before

settling the question, to withdraw his army to his old quarters on

the other side of the river. It is clear that the general's

reflections would be less disturbed in his old quarters, and, with a

river separating him from the enemy, he could form a more correct

judgment as to whether he had beaten the enemy, or the enemy had

beaten him. Feeling, however, that it would not do to let it get out

that the enemy had beaten him, he resolved that it must be true that

he had beaten the enemy. This was about the most accommodating

settlement he could arrive at. But, accepting this in good faith, I

never could see the necessity for our haste to get back to our old

quarters on the hills, notwithstanding the general's friends said it

looked like rain, and he was anxious to get his army over before the

shower came on. I have noticed, also, that the rebel army, when

beaten, generally fell back in the direction of Richmond. In this

instance, however, he held his positions, beat his drums, blew his

horns, fluttered his flags, and was altogether the most defiant of

vanquished enemies. I noticed, also, that this vanquished enemy

packed his knapsacks, put his ammunition in order, and marched off,

not backwards, in the direction of Richmond, but forward, in the

direction of the North.

Yes, my son, the enemy marched defiantly into Pennsylvania, and sent

the peaceable Dutchmen in that remote part of the country into a

state of great alarm. And this I accept as the best proof that the

rebels were not beaten at Chancellorville. I am sure, also, that

General Hooker had sufficient reason to share this opinion with me.

He always had the rebels just where he wanted them, and yet I

observed that he failed to bring them to a stand before they got on

the free soil of Pennsylvania. Every honest Dutchman in the State

was convinced in his own mind that General Hooker, if he had been

the general he ought to be, should have driven the enemy into some

remote corner of Virginia, and kept him there.

The military atmosphere was still full of confusion and uncertainty.

And things seemed getting worse every day. Strange as it may seem,

the government continued making extensive efforts to further the

object of the rebel general. Fortunately for the nation, our wise

rulers waked up one morning fully convinced that General Lee was in

earnest, that he was already on the free soil of a northern State,

with a favorable prospect for making a settlement there. The

government also suddenly discovered that General Hooker, although a

brave soldier and all that, was not the man to command a great army.

So the government relieved him and sent him into elegant retirement,

a custom very common at that time.

Then the government appointed General Meade to the command of the

grand old army of the Potomac. Of this general little had been

known. Still, the nation felt relieved at the change. Now, General

Meade was a polished gentleman, a brave and good soldier, who had

fought on the Peninsula under McClellan and commanded the

Pennsylvania Reserves. To place a new general in command of an army

at a time when that army is in face of the enemy and expects every

minute to engage him in battle, is one of the most dangerous

experiments a government can indulge in. It is also one well

calculated to test to their utmost the qualities of the general

placed so suddenly in command.

It was the 1st of July, 1863, General Meade took command of the Army

of the Potomac, and posted it in order of battle on the hills and

plains around Gettysburg. There the two armies stood, the Union and

the Rebel, than whom there was none braver, awaiting for the signal

for the clash of arms. Then a great battle began and lasted three

days. And there was desperate fighting and great valor displayed on

both sides, and the field was strewn with the dead and wounded. And

the battle of Gettysburg was a great battle, and the Union army of

patriots gained a great and glorious victory over the rebels. Yes,

my son, and what was more, we celebrated it on the 4th of July. And

the people of the North were glad of heart, and rejoiced

exceedingly, and sang praises to General Meade, for he had fought

the battle well and won his country's gratitude.

Still, my son, we hesitated, and failed to take advantage of our

success. In truth, we let the rebel army re-cross the Potomac at its

leisure, although we might have given it serious trouble had we

pressed it at once. Indeed, there were a great number of people who

expected General Meade to either drive the rebel army into the

Potomac or capture it. But military men know that capturing a large

army, though it may have been beaten in battle, is not so easy a

matter. And even a victorious army, after fighting so great a

battle, needs rest and time to improve its shattered condition.

CHAPTER X.

HANGING IN THE BALANCE.

HERE, my son, is an exact portrait of the general who fought the

great battle of Gettysburg. When he had rested his army a sufficient

time he began moving in pursuit of the enemy. The rebel general fell

back into old Virginia, taking his time as he went along, and being

in no temper to hasten his steps. In short, we followed him back

timidly to Orange Court House, where he made a settlement for the

winter. There was a good deal of small fighting done during the

autumn and winter, but neither side seemed to gain any advantage.

The fate of war hung in the balance. If we gained an advantage one

day, the enemy would do something to offset it on the next. This

state of things was a source of great grief to the nation. The

people wanted something more positive for the great amount of life

and treasure they were wasting. They called for more earnestness and

more resolution on the part of our generals, and a better system of

carrying on the war on the part of the authorities at Washington.

So, my son, the people's impatience was at length heeded, and when

spring came (I mean the spring of 1864), and the people were weary

of the war, and demanded a change in the policy of conducting it, so

that an end be put to it as speedily as possible, the government

began to wake up to its duty. We had fought battles for two years

and hung the nation in mourning, and still Washington was as often

in danger as Richmond. Indeed, the fortune of war seemed in favor of

Richmond. Then the government began to see that if we would gain

victories our armies must be commanded by soldiers, not politicians.

Yes, my son, the people were excited to joy when the government

changed its military policy, and the great General Grant was brought

to Washington and placed in command of all our armies. The sun of

our hopes brightened then, for the people had confidence in that

general. He had whipped the rebels so well for us in the West, and

he had gained for us so many glorious victories.

And now, my son, we come to this remarkable siege of Washington. I

say remarkable, for it is destined to stand on the pages of military

history without anything to compare with it. Not that it was as

bloody, or that the city was as obstinately attacked and defended as

heroically, as some other cities that have been besieged, in ancient

as well as modern times. But you must know that sieges, like

battles, derive their great importance and all that makes them

remembered hereafter, not so much from the amount of blood that has

been shed during them, not so much from the impetuosity of the

attacks made or the heroic defences, as from the manner in which

they affect the fate of nations. Some sieges are remarkable for one

thing, some another. The siege of Washington was more remarkable for

the manner in which the city was defended than the manner in which

it was attacked. No fields were fertilized with carnage, nor banners

bathed in blood.

You, remember, my son, the tale of storied Troy, with all its "pomp

and circumstance of glorious war." But, my son, it has never seemed

to me more interesting than the passage of Thermopylæ. Nor will

Agamemnon live in history after Leonidas is forgotten. And yet these

events in ancient war were small compared with the battles our Grant

fought. His deeds will brighten as you read of them in history, and

become greater than them all.

And now, my son, let us hie to the siege of Washington. Washington

was besieged and Washington was saved; and the history of its

salvation must not perish. Rome, you know, was saved by the cackling

of a goose. And when I tell you that Washington, the capital city of

this great nation was saved by the too free use of a barrel of

whisky, you must not be surprised. When its great circle of

fortifications, now bristling with cannon, and filled with busy

soldiers, shall become so many grassy mounds, their history must

still live to excite the patriotism of those who come after us.

Remember, my son, that had Washington fallen the nation had

perished. To this remarkable siege, then, and its results, let all

the succeeding glories of this great Republic be attributed.

As I have told you before, my son, after the first battle of

Manassas, when our militia did such good running, there was nothing

to prevent the rebels from entering and capturing it but the few

hastily constructed forts, or têtes de pont, on the Virginia side.

Nor could these have offered any resistance worth naming. Our

demoralized troops, however, never halted until they got safe inside

of them. And but for these forts, weak as they were, the city would

have fallen. When General McClellan assumed command, he saw at once

the necessity of properly fortifying the city. And the nation ought

never to forget him for his decision. Experienced engineers, with

large gangs of laborers, were set to work throwing up these huge

masses of earthwork. To this was added the labor of a large number

of the troops of the Army of the Potomac, during its organization in

the autumn and winter of 1861 and 1862. When, therefore, the army

moved for the Peninsula in the spring of 1862, the city was so

strongly fortified that it was considered safe by General McClellan

and his corps commanders. That is, my son, if its forts were

properly garrisoned, and there was a working force of forty thousand

men. But nothing was safe against the fears of a timid

administration.

But forts, my son, however strong, are only inert masses. They

cannot fight themselves; and to give them strength and action they

require to be properly and fully garrisoned. And the troops in them

require to be properly instructed in all their duties. Now, my son,

it was a question with the government, which was very timid at that

time, whether General George had left, in and around Washington, a

force sufficient to make the city perfectly safe when he started on

his memorable campaign. It is the opinion of nearly all our best

military men that he did. But the politicians got frightened, the

government got frightened, and the political generals got

frightened. And all the frightened people got their heads together;

and they made the President and Secretary of War believe just as

they believed--that Washington had been "unarmed," and that

Washington was in danger. Yes, my son, our good-hearted President,

who was no coward, was sorely troubled about the safety of

Washington. And his Secretary of War was also much troubled, as was

common with him on the appearance of danger. And the "Chief of

Staff" was also in trouble, and went to issuing orders, of a

memorable kind, few of which were understood, much less obeyed. The

result of all this was that there was great conflict of action. I

have no better name to call it by, my son. Hence it was, my son,

that our good President halted McDowell, and McDowell's corps. And

both looked on from a distance while General George was fighting

desperate battles with the enemy. This was the way the War

Department carried on the war at that time. Now, my son, it is my

purpose to so instruct you that you will know the whole truth

concerning the way the war was carried on.

The detention of General McDowell and his corps, while it

illustrated the great anxiety of the President and Secretary of War

for the safety of Washington, caused the failure of the campaign on

the Peninsula. All the sophistry in the world, my son, cannot change

that decision.

General George, with his army, was driven to the James River, and as

the enemy, then at Richmond, was between him and General Pope, and

might strike either at his pleasure, the government's fears about

Washington so increased that General George was finally recalled

from the James, to save the capital. The result was, as I have told

you before, that General Pope was driven back with the wreck of his

army to the very gates of the capital, and General George arrived

barely in time to save it. Yes, my son, General George, not only so

saved the capital, but extricated the government and the Chief of

Staff out of the difficulties they had brought on themselves.

When, then, the victorious rebel army turned aside from the

fortifications of Washington, and marched triumphantly into

Maryland, strong garrisons were left in the forts, and more troops

were poured into the city to insure its safety. It was, indeed,

resolved by the government, which began now to profit by experience,

and by the fact that the capital of the nation had twice been placed

in extreme peril, that for the future, come what might, it should at

least be made secure. Experienced officers of rank were placed in

command of the defenses, north as well as south of the Potomac. The

troops were drilled constantly, and soon became good artillerists.

They were also instructed in and soon became efficient in the art of

defending forts. They studied well, and became familiar with the

ground in their front; and, what was more than all, they knew their

guns, and how to fight them. I have been very particular concerning

these things, my son, because I desire to impress you with their

future importance.

But alas for the instability of human resolutions! Washington was to

be exposed, after all.

You will remember, my son, how everybody was seized with admiration

at the ease with which the great General Grant picked up the Army of

the Potomac, and moved off with it against the rebels. That was in

the month of May, 1864. It was then that the army moved against

Richmond for the last time: that is, not to return to us until it

had captured that rebel stronghold.

Grant had not gone far when he met a more stubborn resistance than

he had expected, fought a number of desperate and bloody battles,

and lost a great many men. Fight and move forward, was his motto, so

he resolved not to turn his face towards Washington and his back

towards Richmond, as others had done before him. The terrible waste

of human life that followed his battles, found him in want of

recruits. No reserves of any consequence had been organized, and the

government were sorely troubled to find men to fill the thinned

ranks of our heroic army. Where were these men to be got from in

time to be of service?

Think of it, my son, we had 25,000 instructed artillerists in the

forts around Washington. Here was a temptation hard to be resisted.

These men could do good service in the field as infantry; and, in an

evil hour, it was decided to send them to Grant's army for that

purpose.

Then the great question arose, how were their places to be supplied?

How were the forts to be defended, in case of attack, without them?

It would not do to strip the defenses of all troops, and leave the

forts without garrisons. If we did, the enemy would surely find it

out, for Washington was full of his spies, and we should come to

grief. The President, the cabinet, and all the generals, had

resolved, from the first, that that this must never be done, under

any contingency.

But what, at the time, was considered a happy thought, seized on the

government. I have said a happy thought, my son, but it was a very

unwise one. Let the future historian record it, for it is recorded

in the dispatches, as well as in the acts of the government.

Yes, my son, it was resolved, first, that Richmond should fall in an

hundred days, or at least during the summer; second, that to insure

the fall of Richmond within that time, the experienced troops, then

in the fortifications of Washington, should be sent to the Army of

the Potomac; third, that to replace these and other garrisons, a

call should be made on some of the States for 100,000 militiamen, to

serve for one hundred days. To the end of developing this grand

idea, all the old artillery regiments were sent away to Grant. And

their places were filled by an equal number of "hundred days' men,"

nice and fresh, fresh and green, mostly from the State of Ohio.

I have no doubt, my son, that it will seem strange to you, as it

will to all intelligent readers hereafter, that raw troops should

have been called to defend the capital in the fourth year of a great

war. But the War Department carried on the war according to this

method then. The result is not just now very pleasant to

contemplate; but it was what ordinary foresight might have

predicted. Our error was the enemy's opportunity, and he quickly

proceeded to take advantage of it. Washington was in danger, and

Washington might have been captured with but little trouble had the

enemy sent the right man to command his troops. How near it came

being lost, and how accidentally it was saved, I shall record

hereafter, for the benefit of the future historian.

CHAPTER XI.

ALARMING SYMPTOMS OF THE ENEMY'S APPROACH.

I KNOW you will be anxious to see a portrait of the distinguished

general who was first assigned to the defense of Washington during

the siege. And here I have presented you with a very clever one.

This general, McDowell McCook, chanced to be in the city, when the

government, becoming alarmed, placed him in command, and sent him

out to defend the capital. This was unfortunate for the poor

gentleman, and he at once became alarmed at finding himself in such

a position, and so near the War Department. The poor man knew

nothing of the defenses, much less of the roads. And to make the

matter worse he had no troops to command. What was a general to do

under such circumstances? Although this distinguished general had

seen some service, and served his country well in the West, he was

in no way qualified to fill the position now assigned him. And I am

inclined to accept this as a reason why the government selected him.

But before I proceed further, my son, I must instruct you as to what

happened in the Shenandoah Valley just about this time, and which,

of right, should constitute a part of the siege of Washington. The

troops in the valley had been commanded by no less than four

unfortunate generals. Patterson, Banks, Milroy, and Siegel, the last

from Germany. Of the many misfortunes of these generals, the

historian who comes after me will give you a more enlarged account

than I have time or space to do at present. Heaven knows, they were

manifold.

When, then, Grant moved against the enemy with the Army of the

Potomac, General Franz Siegel was put at the head of a column at

Winchester, and marched up the valley with a great flourish of

trumpets. This German general was in high feather then, and declared

he would drive the rebels before him, like so many chickens, and

never stop until he got them all cooped up in Richmond. But the

rebels were not inclined to submit to this cooping process. Indeed,

they soon discovered that this General Franz Siegel was not so much

of a general after all, and that he had an eccentric way of moving

his troops. So when he had driven them, as he supposed, to

Newmarket, they turned upon him in a very angry manner, gave him

battle, defeated him, and forced him back in disorder. This was

unfortunate for Siegel, and more unfortunate for his German

admirers, who declared him to be the greatest general of modern

times. But he had fought this battle so badly that the government

for once made up its mind that it would be wisdom not to let him try

his hand at another.

Major-General David Hunter was fixed upon as the right man to reform

Siegel's disordered army and correct his mistakes. Hunter had

patriotism enough, and no man doubted his courage. He was earnest in

the defense of right, even zealous in the cause of his country, and

quick in the punishment of traitors, with whom he was not in very

high favor. The general took command of this disordered army, and so

managed as to get a little discipline and some degree of order into

it. Now, it has always seemed to me, my son, that you could put a

general to no more severe trial than to place him at the head of an

army demoralized by the inefficiency of his predecessor and expect

him to fight battles and gain victories. And yet General Hunter did

this and to the satisfaction of the country. Had he been less active

with the torch, his reward in history would have been much higher.

Well, my son, the general marched with his army, and reorganized it

as he marched. And he met the enemy, and he fought him, and fought

him well, and whipped him well, and drove him back up the valley, to

the very gates of Lynchburg. But there, my son, he stopped. His

supplies had given out, and the enemy had detached a large force,

and sent it to reinforce the rebel army at Lynchburg. Our great

Chief of Staff at Washington had promised that this should not be

done, without timely notice being sent to Hunter. But it was done,

and done without any notice being sent by the Chief of Staff, whose

spies were found wanting when most needed. General Sheridan, too,

was detached from the Army of the Potomac with two brigades of

cavalry, and sent to form a junction with and succor Hunter. But the

Chief of Staff failed to send Hunter any information concerning this

movement, and hence Hunter was kept in ignorance of its design.

Sheridan was driven back before superior numbers, and failed to

carry out the plan of his instructions. Had Hunter received

information of this movement, he would not only have saved Sheridan

from defeat, but, having formed a junction with him near

Charlottesville, could leave beaten the enemy and gone where he

pleased. So much for what the Chief of Staff ought to have done but

did not do.

Of course the gates of Lynchburg were swung wide open, and there was

nothing for the famous Early, who commanded the rebel hosts, to do,

but to come out and brush Hunter away from before them. And he did

this, and more than this. He cut Hunter's communications, and sent

him flying over a different road, to the Ohio River, in search of

supplies.

And it was now, my son, that the veritable Jubal, known to his old

classmates at West Point as the late Mr. Early, saw the road open,

and the great prize before him. Scorning, as it were, to pursue

Hunter, he marched directly for Washington by the most direct road.

It was early in July, then, when General Early, at the head of his

rebel hosts, reached and crossed the Potomac. And this movement sent

the people of Washington into a state of great alarm. The southern

sympathizers at the capital were in high feather at the prospect of

Washington being captured by their friends, the rebels. Magnificent

stories were set afloat, the government got into a state of great

confusion, and timid people went about shaking their heads, and

wondering what the War Department was doing. Everybody wanted to do

something, and yet nobody knew what to do. The Chief of Staff sat in

his easy chair, and issued orders by the dozen. The Secretary of War

ran about excited, and issued orders that conflicted with everybody

else's orders. The President, not to be behind either of them,

issued orders that agreed with none of them. The great wonder is,

that some one of these high officials, so much given to issuing war

orders, did not issue a proclamation, warning Mr. Early that it

would not be comfortable for him to bring his rebels this way.

I am not prepared to say what effect such a notice would have had on

Mr. Early, who turned his column in this direction, and, marching

with great rapidity, was in a few days on the banks of the Monocacy.

And, as if to increase our alarm, he sent that festive young

trooper, Harry Gilmore, galloping down into Maryland, where his old

friends received him with open arms, and entertained him

sumptuously. Never was hero so entertained by his friends. And when

this bold trooper had enjoyed the trip, and shared the hospitality

of his friends as much as pleased him, he went to work disturbing

our military arrangements. Yes, my son, he captured one of our

railroad trains on its way to New York, and all the passengers in

it. And, what was worse than all, there was one of our most

distinguished major-generals in it, and he was made a prisoner of

war by this bold trooper. Thus he cut our communication with the

North. He did all this, and walked away leisurely and unmolested.

Although his Maryland friends set him up for a great hero, I

confess, as there was no one to oppose him, not to see in what his

heroism consisted.

As you may naturally suppose, my son, these little affairs increased

our alarm greatly. Our authorities, generally, went into a state of

perspiration; and would have sent for General Grant and his army to

come back and protect us, but for the fear that that general would

not read the order correctly. In short, they had already become

convinced that Grant was not the man to turn back when there was

anything to be made by going ahead. Then our high officials called

on the North for help, but called in vain. The North was not

inclined to share the fears of our high officials, and had been too

often sent for to come and take care of Washington.

It was common with us, then, to keep a lot of third-rate troops

scattered around Baltimore; and over Maryland. These were hastily

got together, and placed under the command of that famous warrior

Lew Wallace. The administration was sure, now, that Mr. Early would

get whipped, and that the capital would be saved. There were,

however, a few unbelieving people who shook their heads, and were

heard to say that General Wallace was not the soldier to drive Mr.

Early and his men into the Potomac.

I must do the general the credit, however, to say, that he marched

out boldly enough, and engaged Early and his men in battle as soon

as he met him. And although he had pluck enough, he was no match for

the rebel, who brushed him away before him, and sent his scattered

columns flying back into Baltimore, in great distress. Perhaps the

only sensible man surprised at this state of things was General

Wallace himself.

When those who come after us, my son, shall read of this, it will

seem very strange that the fate of Washington, the capital of this

great and powerful nation, should have depended on a battle between

General Lew Wallace, and his undisciplined troops, on the one side,

and Jubal Early and his stonewall troops on the other. And all this

in the fourth year of the war.

Now this battle, if it can be dignified with the name, was fought on

Saturday, the 9th of July. General Early took no further notice of

General Wallace, but started at once for the defenses of Washington.

And there was nothing to oppose him until he reached them; and

nothing then but some cannon, and some men who did not know how to

fire them.

When it got rumored round that the late General Early was not only

aiming to besiege Washington, but was not far away from the

defenses, there was considerable of a stir made in official circles.

Timid people tried to keep their courage up in various ways. Heroes,

who had never been out of Washington, now talked like very heroes;

and it was intimated that the Treasury Guard would come out, and

take the field. Those who had no taste for fighting, and they were

many, found it very uncomfortable, because there was no way of

getting out of the city.

During the war, my son, I frequently noticed that when a battle was

going on at the front there was sure to be a large number of heroes

in uniform doing promenade duty on the Avenue. Their number seemed

to have increased prodigiously just at this time. It was noticed

also that they walked at a more rapid pace than usual, did an

uncommon amount of eating and drinking, and had a large number of

friends they were always ready to discuss the last battle with. I

suppose this was all for the purpose of showing the amount of

courage they had.

They were ready enough to go to the front to-day if somebody would

only show them the way.

It was now the morning of the 10th of July; and a bright breezy

morning it was. The symptoms of the siege now took a positive form

and became really alarming. These symptoms were manifested in a

singular manner at two prominent points of the defenses. A

dilapidated and very much distressed mule, his ears erect and his

tail askance, galloped down the road into Tenallytown, making a

noise so hideous that the quiet inhabitants ran out in a state of

great alarm. They then went to packing up their household goods,

their tubs, tables, chairs, and crockery, and getting them ready for

removal to a place of safety. In addition to this, the unruly animal

sent terror into the very hearts of a number of cavalrymen who were

out picketing the distant hills. These gallant troopers put spurs to

their horses and never stopped until they got safely into

Georgetown, where they circulated numerous stories concerning Mr.

Early and his men, who, they declared, had driven them in.

The other remarkable manifestation took place at Brightwood, a

sleepy little town composed of four houses and a lamp-post, and

situated not far from the city, on the Fourteenth-street road. A

distressed cow came bellowing into this town just at daylight, with

her head and tail erect, and driving the pickets before her. The

antics of this otherwise kindly animal caused a great scattering

among the gallant defenders of Fort Stevens. Indeed, I have good

authority for saying that they evacuated that stronghold more

suddenly than had ever been done before, scampering down the

Fourteenth-street road at a rapid pace.

In short, my son, they mistook this wayward animal for Early's

advance guard, and came to the very wise conclusion that a fort was

not a pleasant place to stay in when an enemy outside was throwing

shells into it.

The good people of Brightwood betook themselves to packing up their

traps, and pondering over the question as to whether they had been

disloyal enough during the war to claim Mr. Early as a friend when

he arrived. It was a trying time with the good people of Brightwood.

When, however, the gallant defenders of the defenses found that it

was only a cow that had so disturbed them, they went boldly back to

their guns, and were as full of courage as could be for the rest of

the day.

As the morning wore on, the evidences of trouble outside increased.

Scattering contrabands, some with bundles on their backs, some with

chairs, buckets and wash-tubs on their heads, others with the family

table on their heads. There was an interesting group of three--two

male and one female member of the African family. One of the former

had brought his banjo, the other his fiddle. The female had a tub

well down on her head. These poor frightened people came trotting

into the city over the Tenallytown and Brightwood roads, seeking a

place of safety inside of the forts.

Then the roads became blocked with all manner of rickety vehicles,

many of them of the most primitive description, filled with the

families and furniture of peaceable farmers, who had left their

homes in fear of the approaching rebels. A more grotesque picture

than was presented by this anxious train it is impossible to

conceive.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GOVERNMENT GETS AGITATED, AND THE GREAT COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF TAKES

THE FIELD.

THIS, my son, is a portrait of General Auger, a dashing, handsome

officer, and a courteous gentleman. He commanded the department of

Washington during the memorable siege I am describing.

As I have said before, my son, as soon as it was known that General

Wallace had been driven back on Baltimore in search of rations, and

General Early was close upon Washington, the government waked up to

the fact that the capital was in danger, and began to take measures

for its defense. Our good President, believing, in the honesty of

his heart, that his presence at the front would do good, took the

field. And the Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff went to

issuing orders that no one seemed to obey. Indeed, their orders only

increased the confusion that had already taken possession of

everything military. The regular officers in command of the troops

in the fortifications, and who knew the location and details of the

forts as well as the roads leading to them, were superseded by

strangers, ignorant of all these things, and even of what their

commands consisted.

Why this was, my son, I cannot explain. Perhaps the Secretary of War

will, when he gets his historian, at $2,500 a year, to write a

national history of the war. Some malicious people said the

Secretary of War had two reasons for this: the first, to show his

contempt for military science; the second, because he wanted to show

what fools some of these strange generals were. I have also heard it

intimated that the reason why some of these strange generals were

assigned to such important posts at such a moment of peril to the

nation, was because they were of sufficient consequence to be made

victims. And as it was always necessary to have a victim to cover up

and excuse the blundering of high officials, these men would come in

handy enough. But I never considered this a good excuse for thus

superseding the officers, the only officers who really knew how to

defend the city.

It was not surprising, however, that, with such an opportunity for

gaining distinction as the defense of the capital of the nation,

major and brigadier-generals should spring up as by magic. Their

number was truly marvelous. Nor was it strange that they should all

want to be heroes. It was a little queer, however, that they should

all be in the city just at this time, and seemingly without

employment. Each, on application, was assigned to an important

command, though but few of them knew the road to the forts, and

fewer still what they were going to command when they got there.

The alarm and confusion continued to increase as General Early and

his rebel hosts approached. And now the great question arose as to

who was to be regarded as responsible for the safety of the city?

Was it the President, the Secretary of War, or the great Chief of

Staff? people inquired. No, it could be neither of these, for the

President, though frequently seen at the front, seemed only a

pleasant observer, and gave no orders to the troops. The Secretary

of War and Chief of Staff were issuing orders, as I have before

described, and assigning strange generals to commands. It could not

be General Auger, for the War Department seemed to have forgotten

him, and he remained quietly in command of the department. The

Military Governor was discharging the active duties of his office,

and so it could not be him. Some persons said General Haskins was

the man. He had been in charge of the defenses north of the Potomac,

and knew them well. But it could not be him, for he had been

superseded by General Hardin; and General McDowell McCook ranked

both of them; and, as I have before informed you, was placed in

command and sent out to see to General Early.

This, my son, was very hard on General McCook, who found himself in

a predicament he would willingly have escaped from. It is no more

than right, my son, that I should give you an account of how this

general went to the field, and what he found when he got there.

Provided with a pocket full of orders, the general mounted his horse

late on Saturday afternoon and set out for the front, over the

Fourteenth-street road. The corpulent engineer I have described in

the early part of this history was assigned to General McCook for

duty; and this officer, and two sorry-looking orderlies, were all

that bore him company. The corpulent engineer alone knew the

military roads, and the location of the forts, which was very

fortunate. As they advanced over the road beyond Meridian Hill, they

overtook several straggling generals, each proceeding to the front

with a pocket full of orders, and generally accompanied by a single

orderly. Two or three of these generals seemed quite at a loss as to

where they were going, or what they were to command. I have thus

explained this matter to you, my son, to show you what a nice way

our war authorities had of producing confusion.

When the general and his staff, which I have described above, were

well nigh Brightwood, he halted to inquire, of the alarmed negroes

and straggling citizens who were wending their way into the city,

what news they had of the enemy outside. But no trustworthy

information could he get from any of them. They all knew that

General Early was coming; and that they had left just before he had

got to where they lived. This sort of information was not exactly

the kind a general would consider it safe to base his plan of

operations on. Nor was the general any more fortunate in getting

information concerning the enemy from a number of squads of cavalry,

whose business it seemed to be to ride excitedly to the front and

then ride excitedly back again. Indeed, the whole business of these

doughty troopers, it seemed to me, was to increase the alarm and

confusion.

It was nearly sundown, the weather was hot and oppressive, and the

general was full of troubles. The worst of these was that he could

not find the troops he was sent to command. Nor could he get any

tidings concerning General Early and his rebels. Hence it was that

he concluded, and very naturally, that the enemy would not be within

sight of the defenses until morning, and that the city would at

least be safe until that time without any more of his generalship.

He therefore went into camp for the night, pitching his headquarters

in a clump of wood near Rock Creek, and not far from Crystal Spring.

And here let me record that the general had not even a camp guard.

To make the matter worse, there was no forage for the horses, and

nothing for supper. Never was general so much to be pitied. The two

orderlies, however, were willing fellows, and soon had a fire

lighted. They then proceeded to a neighboring house, and got

refreshments for the general, without which he must have gone hungry

to bed.

As the night advanced, the discomforts of the situation increased.

In short, it may as well be confessed, the general's headquarters

were besieged long before midnight, and that sleep was a thing not

to be enjoyed. You may have made up your mind that the besiegers

were an advance guard of the rebels; but they were not. They were

nothing less than an army of fierce musquitoes, who made such a

persistent attack on the general and his staff as to make his

position almost untenable. In truth, they so harassed the corpulent

engineer, in rear and flank, that he mounted his horse and returned

to the city, where he spent a comfortable night at Willard's Hotel,

and went back in the morning refreshed. My authority for this is the

distinguished engineer himself.

A little after midnight, the two orderlies became seriously alarmed

(I ought to mention that one was recently from Cork, and the other

from Kerry), and reported to the general that a conversation was

being carried on in an unknown language by two persons in the woods

beyond, and whom they verily believed to be spies of the enemy. The

general was not a little perplexed at this intelligence, for the

better informed orderly declared, that while one shouted in very bad

Irish, the other seemed to answer him in Dutch. The general listened

attentively for a minute or more, when the noise was again heard. It

turned out, however, that the intruders were only a pair of owls,

who had perched in some trees near by, and were exchanging hootings

for their own entertainment.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE KIND OF REINFORCEMENTS WE HAD TO DEFEND THE CITY.

THIS is an exact portrait of General Jubal A. Early, who was sent to

capture Washington, but arrived a little too late.

There was great excitement in the city during Sunday, the 10th of

July, and strange stories were set afloat concerning the arrival of

General Early, and his rebel army. There was also great excitement

in and around the forts north of the city. The hundred-day men did

not feel themselves safe in the forts, and those outside were making

a desperate effort to keep their courage up.

We had heroes enough in the city, but the great question was, how we

were to get them organized, provisioned, armed, and sent to the

front in time to be of service. The District militia, which we have

all heard so much of and seen so little, was not enrolled, and, of

course, could not be made available. It was said there would be some

desperate fighting done if the Treasury Guard only got to the front.

This valuable body of distinguished heroes was composed of nice

young men, who wore fine linen and patent leather boots, and in

appearance were unexceptionable.

It was a trying time for the nation, my son, and the young men of

this Treasury Guard felt that they had a duty to perform in

defending the capital, and must perform it with courage. There was

one little drawback, however, to their conduct as soldiers; and that

was, that each man wanted to go to the front encumbered with a

carpet bag, filled with sandwiches and clean shirts. Aside from

this, let me say, the guard was got in order for marching, and their

gallant commander, Colonel Floyd A. Willett, made a speech, in which

he declared there was not a chicken-hearted man in his ranks. And

when it marched for the front, which it did with drums beating, its

gallant colonel at its head, and Corporal Spinner, of Company B,

bringing up the rear, there was many a tear shed and handkerchief

waved by the pretty female clerks of the Department. Many of these

damsels had more than a friendly interest in these young heroes, who

they averred would never come back, but whiten the battle-field with

their bones.

As the War Department has not yet condescended to give us a report

in detail of the defense of Washington, I cannot inform you, my son,

of the heroic part performed by this distinguished body of nice

young men. There was a rumor that they returned to the city, after

the siege, in a very hungry condition; but had been so saving of

their powder and lead as not to waste a single round.

Now, our quartermaster-general was not to be beaten by any of them

when there was a chance for glory. Seeing the Treasury Guard march

off with so much courage and determination, the general mounted his

war horse, and assembled a whole brigade of his employees, as

gallant fellows as ever took the field, notwithstanding little could

be said of their discipline or soldierly appearance. This gallant

brigade was called the Bushwhackers, in contradistinction to the

Beef-eaters of the War Department. There was no mistaking this

brigade, for it was armed with muskets and bill-hooks. As it moved

off for the front, as it did with no very regular step, there was a

sight seldom seen. How else could it be, with our gallant

quartermaster-general at its head, and General Rucker bringing up

the rear! After a rapid march of four miles, the brigade reached the

front; and as no enemy was in sight, and there was no use for their

powder, the men went energetically to work, and did good service in

clearing away the bushes in front of the forts, so that our gallant

defenders could have an unobstructed view of the rebels as soon as

they made their appearance. This was a very happy thought; one for

which the quartermaster-general deserved the brevet he afterwards

got.

You will see by this, my son, that we were fast getting our gallant

defenders to the front. And now all that was needed to afford them

an opportunity to show themselves heroes was General Early and his

army of rebels.

I must also inform you that Provost-Marshal Todd, Captain and A. D.

C., had got a company of his men to the front, lying in ambush for

the rebels.

There was still another, and equally important force to be added to

our defenders. This was a brigade of what was called Ancient

Mariners, got together by that solid old salt, Admiral Goldsborough.

The admiral was brim-full of pluck, and his name had become famous

for not fighting the rebels afloat. Here was an opportunity to give

them a broadside or two ashore, and the admiral was not the man to

let it slip through his fingers. Indeed, he sounded his war trumpet

as quick as any of them, and when he had piped his Ancient Mariners

to arms, he told them that God and their country demanded them to do

their duty.

"Aye, aye!" responded the Ancient Mariners; "we will do it, we

will."

When the gallant admiral had got his "Ancient Mariners" ready to

march, armed with cutlass and various other well-known weapons, he

placed himself at their head and moved out to meet the enemy. His

manner of doing this, however, was somewhat novel, and deserves to

be described here. You must know, my son, that the admiral was of a

very rotund figure, and, although well enough at home on the

quarter-deck, was not accustomed to the saddle. His weight was,

indeed, such as to preclude the idea of his being a skilled

horseman. It was, therefore, necessary that he go to the field in

some more comfortable as well as becoming manner. Thereupon a

carriage and four was provided, and in this stately manner the

gallant admiral proceeded to the front, at the head of his strange

command. I may add also, my son, that the movement of this force

afforded no little amusement to the numerous urchins that followed

it. On reaching the front, it took up a strong position, and made

ready to give the enemy a broadside whenever he made his appearance.

Some mischievous person reported that it was the intention of these

"Ancient Mariners" to support the cavalry, in the event of its being

attacked. Having brought them to the front, however, we must leave

them there, the quartermaster with his spy-glass keeping a sharp

look out for any stray craft that might appear in the offing.

I have been thus minute in describing these forces, in order that

you may form a just estimate of what General McDowell McCook had to

command.

Sunday passed away, and there was no appearance of General Early and

his army. Still the excitement in the city had not abated. Our good

President, I must tell you, was out along the lines nearly all day,

with the apparent purpose of encouraging the feeble garrisons in the

forts.

Early on Monday morning (the 11th of July, 1864), the smoke and dust

of the rebel column rose in the distance, and was clearly seen from

the defenses. News of this soon spread about, and our cavalry got

more and more excited, and went galloping out and then came

galloping in at an increased rate of speed.

Then the enemy's long, thin line of skirmishers debouched into the

fields, like specter figures in a panorama. Next his artillery was

seen moving to the right and left, and apparently taking up

positions on the distant hills. These were followed by his hungry

troopers, very dirty and forlorn, and looking like shadowy figures

just issuing from a desert of dust. The movements of these rebels in

the distance gave new features to the face of the siege. General

McDowell McCook was seen to ride rapidly over the field, followed by

his two orderlies. Generals Meigs and Rucker urged on their

Bushwhackers, who went to work with renewed energy clearing up the

forest. The "Ancient Mariners" whetted their cutlasses, and

continued to exhaust their ordnance, a large stock of which they had

brought to the field in the shape of tobacco. And the Treasury Guard

stopped eating sandwiches and looked to their ammunition. In fine,

our gallant defenders went to getting their courage up in various

ways. Our good President (may his memory never die!) took up a

position near Fort Stevens, as if to encourage the hundred-day men

to stand by their guns and keep their pluck warm.

A little after noon there was a material change in the situation.

The enemy's advance skirmishers made their appearance within range

of Fort Stevens and began a miscellaneous firing. Then our own

cannon opened, and their echoes over the hills first sounded the

alarm and awakened the people of the city from their dream of

security. There were as yet no really efficient troops to send to

defend the point of attack. The people knew that between them and

the enemy there were strong and heavily armed forts; and in these

they placed their trust. They did not, however, reflect that these

forts, without proper garrisons, were only so many inert masses,

incapable of resisting for one hour the vigorous assault of an

enemy. But it was very different with the military authorities. As

the rattle of small arms and the booming of cannon increased during

Monday evening and night, they knew that the city was in peril, and

their anxiety for its safety increased. They knew that the forts

were not properly garrisoned. They knew that communication with the

North was cut off, that no reinforcements from that quarter could be

relied on. Further, that although reinforcements from General

Grant's army had been ordered up from the James River, they had not

had time to arrive.

Such was our situation on that memorable Monday night. Yes, my son,

such was the feeble condition of the defenses when General Early and

his rebel army came in sight of the dome of the Capitol. We all

looked confidently for an attack in force on Tuesday morning. Had it

been made by a column of ten thousand men, led by a bold and

determined commander, capable of infusing his own impulse into their

movements, they might, feebly garrisoned as the forts were at that

moment (with no support between or behind them), have treated our

defenses with contempt, and marched into the city.

Yes, my son, they could have marched almost unmolested between any

two of the forts, entered the city, seized the Arsenal, the Capitol,

the Treasury, and other public buildings, and enjoyed a bounteous

breakfast at the expense of our citizens. And when they had done

this, they might have enforced a legitimate surrender of the city,

together with the defenses on both sides of the river.

But General Jubal A. Early was not the man for such an enterprise.

Washington was at his mercy, but fortunately for us he did not know

it, and let the opportunity slip. Even had he known it, I am of

opinion that he lacked the nerve to grasp the advantages of the

opportunity. On that Tuesday morning, Early was at Silver Springs,

enjoying the luxuries of a spacious headquarters, and within sight

of the grand old dome of the Capitol. What strange emotions the

sight of this dome must have excited in his bosom, what

reminiscences of happier days passed under its shadow must have

seared his thoughts as they passed in review, he alone can describe.

Perhaps it was the contemplation of those happier days that stayed

his hand and made him hesitate to grasp the prize at his feet.

No, my son, Jubal A. Early was of too phlegmatic a temperament for

such an undertaking. He was slow in every thing but name. And, as I

have informed you before, so notoriously cautious and slow was he to

act, even when a youth at West Point, that he gained the sobriquet

of "The Late Early," by which he is known at this day by his

intimate friends.

How sad it is for us, to-day, to contemplate that the safety of

Washington, the capital of this great country, should have depended

on the temperament of a general. Let the future historian do this

subject justice and elaborate it as it deserves. And let him

portray, if he can, the consequences of the rebel flag greeting the

rays of the rising sun on that morning victoriously from the dome of

the Capitol.

CHAPTER XIV.

HOW THE REBEL GENERALS DEPORTED THEMSELVES.

THIS history would not be complete, my son, without a portrait of

General John C. Breckinridge. This general accompanied General

Early, in command of a division, and was extremely useful as a

subordinate, since he knew Washington and all its surroundings, and

had many friends in the city, whose respect and hospitality he had

enjoyed. What curious emotions must have excited his breast when he

saw the dome of that building where he had sat as a Senator, and by

his talents and deportment secured the respect and confidence of the

nation, I will leave the reader to imagine. Who but himself can

describe his thoughts when he recurred to that scene in the Senate

Chamber, when he raised the voice of prophecy and foreshadowed the

traitor's reward? Was there a pang in the thought that he was

himself reaping the bitterest fruit of that reward?

Never forget, my son, how terrible is the penalty that attaches to

treason. But now I must ask you to reaccompany me to another part of

the field, that we may see what is going on there. The attack made

on our defenses by the rebels was of the feeblest kind. Why this

was, some of our officers could not understand. It was evidently

made in doubt of the result, and indicated forcibly enough that

something was wrong at the rebel headquarters. We want now to see

what that was.

While the booming of cannon and the rattle of small arms was going

on in the vicinity of Fort Stevens, without any very serious damage

to either side (for I may mention here that the rebels kept at a

respectful distance from the forts), Generals Early, Ewell, and

Breckinridge were enjoying themselves on the sumptuous fare found at

Silver Springs and other neighboring plantations. In short, it is

asserted that these generals had been short of rations for some

days, and were very hungry when they reached the outskirts of

Washington. It is also asserted that they took themselves to

feasting and making merry with their friends; so much so that they

had all the cellars and larders of the houses round about examined

for bounties to supply their table. And to such an extent was this

feasting and merrymaking carried, that General Early quite forgot

that he was sent to capture Washington, and indeed set such a bad

example to his subordinates as to destroy all discipline.

There were two great events in this remarkable siege, my son, and I

must tell you what they were. If I do not, you will not get a clear

idea of how the siege was carried on by the rebels. The generals

(rebel) had not tasted fresh beef for several days, and had a sharp

appetite which their commissaries were inclined to gratify. Now,

there was on the plantation of Mr. George Riggs, near where these

generals had their headquarters, a celebrated Alderney bull, much

valued by its owner. Here was a temptation not to be resisted by

these commissaries, who had the animal led to slaughter and served

up for their masters. Yes, my son, these generals and their staffs

banqueted on Mr. Riggs's bull, and were honest enough to confess

that they had rarely fared so sumptuously. This is one of the great

events. Now to the other. A number of general officers (choice

spirits), imitating the example set by their bold superiors, went

out on a forage of their own, and coming to the house of the Hon.

Montgomery Blair, put it under a close examination, especially the

cellar and larder, which was supposed to be well stored with the

choicest. They were disappointed, however, to find that the cellar

contained little wine, and were about setting the honorable owner

down for a disciple of temperance, when they came upon a barrel of

rare old Bourbon whisky.

This discovery caused great rejoicing, the news of it spread far and

wide among the officers, and not an order was obeyed for the rest of

the day. So you will see, my son, that while the superior generals

and their staffs were banqueting on Mr. Riggs's bull, the field

officers were besieging their brains with Mr. Blair's choice whisky.

The city was perfectly safe while this state of revelry existed. And

I feel, my son, that you will agree with me that Mr. Blair deserves

well of his country for supplying his cellar with this remarkable

weapon of defense. Let the future historian bear in mind that the

War Department can claim no credit for the safety of Washington. The

credit of saving Washington belongs exclusively to Mr. Riggs's bull

and Mr. Montgomery Blair's barrel of whisky. They furnished the

feast that stole away the brains of General Early's officers, and

caused the delay that saved the city.

In fine, my son, I have good military authority for saying that

these rebel officers, after their wisdom had been carried away by

the whisky, put on ladies' dresses and so conducted themselves that

General Early, in order to get them out, and put a stop to the

riotous proceedings, was compelled to apply the torch to the house

of Mr. Blair. Let this sad result be a warning to all generals, sent

to either threaten or capture the capital of a nation.

Have I not satisfied you, my son, that Mr. Davis sent the wrong man

to take Washington? A more sanguine general, knowing that he had

been sent from Richmond to threaten and, if possible, capture

Washington, and having come so far and routed all the troops sent to

oppose him, and arrived within sight of the coveted prize, at a time

when he must have known the weakness of the defenses, would have

risked an attack in force and would have succeeded. I say he would

have succeeded; for, by all the rules of war, the capital ought to

have fallen. Let it be remembered also, that during that memorable

Tuesday, when the rattle of small arms and the booming of cannon

from Fort Stevens were calling patriotic citizens to the front to do

their duty, the engineer-in-chief and other of the high officials of

the War Department were busy packing up the records of their

offices, preparatory to their removal to the gunboats.

The attack, which had been so confidently expected on Tuesday

morning, did not take place. General Early and his officers still

continued their riotous proceedings near Silver Springs, while his

advance line kept our gallant defenders in a state of intense

excitement and activity. As hour after hour wore away, however, the

anxiety of our people increased, in fear of what might happen.

Then late in the afternoon news came that the brave old Sixth

Corps--a terror to rebels everywhere--had arrived. This sent a thrill

of joy into many a heart, and shout after shout went up along the

line as its cross came in sight. Yes, the old Sixth Corps, with

General Wright, had come once more. It was a proud sight to see

these men deploy into line of battle, in front of Fort Stevens,

their war-worn colors fluttering in the breeze, with that cross so

well known to the rebel hosts.

The siege was raised. The rebels recognized that cross, and, knowing

what it betokened, fell back rapidly before it, and prepared for a

hasty retreat. Confidence was restored to the people. The President

thanked the troops and went home in the very best humor. The

Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff stopped issuing orders; and

the quartermaster's bushwhackers hung up their bill-hooks. The major

and brigadier-generals went to congratulating each other on the part

they had taken in the defense. At two o'clock on Wednesday morning,

an advance was ordered with the two divisions of the Sixth Corps;

but when the skirmish line took possession of Silver Springs, there

was not a rebel in arms to be seen. General Early had made good

speed during the night, and was making the best of his way across

the Potomac, and home to his master.

Thus ended the most remarkable siege history has any account of.

And now, my son, I cannot close this history without a few words on

the character and conduct of Mr. Jefferson Davis, to whose ambition

this siege of our capital was due. It has been said by several of

his friends, who have access to the newspapers, that he went into

this war not only very reluctantly, but with green spectacles on.

Willing as I am to deal generously with him, and to forgive him each

and every one of his sins, and to send him out into the world to

seek atonement for them, I cannot share this opinion. And for the

reason that I happened to know Mr. Davis in the summer of 1850, when

he was the moving spirit of a convention of "Fire-Eaters," that

assembled together at Nashville, Tenn. And I have a slight

recollection of a speech he made on that occasion, in which

separation by arms was urged, and no love for the Union advanced. I

remember also that that speech was rewarded with hisses,

notwithstanding the strong dis-union element of the convention. His

dislike of the Union and plan for separating the nation, it is well

known, had been the besetting sin of his brain for twenty years.

How, then, he could have engaged in this gigantic rebellion with

green spectacles on, I cannot just exactly see. It was the ignorant,

unreasoning masses of the South who were led into the rebellion with

green spectacles on, not men like Mr. Davis. But, my son, never

strike a man when he is down; that is the work of cowards. Let us

give Mr. Davis credit for such virtues as he had, and for the manner

in which he exerted them in keeping life and strength in the

government he attempted to set up. In connection with the rebellion,

we had to deal with Mr. Davis more in his character as a soldier

than a statesman. Mr. Davis was undoubtedly an able soldier. He was

the head and front, the very life and soul of the men in the South.

Born to those qualities of pride, self-esteem, and self-will, all

of which produce confidence in the possessor, he grew up feeling

himself superior, as he was, to the ordinary men of his age. He

inherited at the same time great fixedness of purpose and

determination; and so prominent were these traits of his character,

that they impressed every one who came in contact with him.

These, my son, were the attributes that gave wings to the man's

ambition and found him aspiring to one of the high places in the

temple of fame. The nation gave him a thorough military education at

West Point, and he afterwards learned the practical duties of a

soldier in the Black Hawk war. On the return of peace, he resigned

and sought distinction in political life. He had succeeded in

reaching the House of Representatives when the war with Mexico broke

out, and he resigned and again went to the field. And,

notwithstanding what has been said to the contrary, he won great

distinction in this war. Military men everywhere did him justice.

The "Mississippi Rifles" will be remembered as long as the battle of

Buena Vista.

At the close of the war he again relinquished the sword, and was

sent to the United States Senate, where he was made chairman of the

Committee on Military Affairs. His highest ambition was to shine as

a statesman. He afterwards served four years as Secretary of War,

and then returned to the Senate, where the rebellion found him

elevated to the chairmanship of the Committee of Military Affairs.

His education, his services in the army, his position as Secretary

of War, and in the Senate, enabled him to become thoroughly

acquainted with our army, with its customs, its laws, its material,

its wants, and, above all, the character of its officers. He was,

perhaps, better acquainted with these things than any other man in

the United States. Nor was he deficient in knowledge of the

character of leading, public men at the North and West. What he had

not studied well, however, was the character and the patriotism of

the people of those sections of our country.

It was the ripe fruit of this knowledge, then, that Mr. Davis

applied in each department of the rebel government; and it was this

that made him of such incalculable value to the rebellion. We have

seen and even admired the power with which he wielded the scanty

resources of the South. And we have seen the wisdom which he

displayed from the very first in the section of his generals. With

rare exceptions, he put the right man in the right place. He knew

the importance of placing soldiers in command, when soldiers' duty

was to be performed. It would have been fortunate for us if we had

exercised similar wisdom. When the rebellion began, there was no man

in the South to have taken the place of Mr. Davis. It is not too

much to say that had he remained loyal to his country, and been

elevated to the command of our armies when the war began, he would

have quickly crushed out the rebellion. With his grasp of mind, and

his iron will, he would have so wielded the great resources of the

North and West, that the rebellion would have been crushed in a year

from its birth. And this was the man our authorities at Washington

supposed would not, or could not, attack the capital after it had

been stripped of its proper garrison. Let the truth be told: Davis

was not the man to let such a blunder go unnoticed.