PHILIP H. SHERIDAN.
Sheridan a Full-Blooded Irishman--The Runaway Horse--
Constitutional Fearlessness--Sheridan Goes to West Point--
Sheridan's Apprenticeship to War--The Fight with the Apaches at
Fort Duncan--He is Transferred to Oregon--Commands at Fort
Yamhill in the Yokima Reservation--The Quarrel among the Yokimas
--Sheridan Popular with Indians--He thinks he has a Chance to
be Major Some Day--Sheridan's Shyness with Ladies--He Employs
a Substitute in Waiting on a Lady--Sheridan's Kindness and
Efficiency in Office Work--He Becomes a Colonel of Cavalry--His
Shrewd Defeat of Gen. Chalmers--Becomes Brigadier--The Kentucky
Campaign against Bragg--Sheridan Saves the Battle of Perrysville
--Saves the Battle of Murfreesboro--Gen. Rousseau on Sheridan's
Fighting--Sheridan at Missionary Ridge--Joins Grant as Chief of
Cavalry--His Raids around Lee--His Campaign in the Valley of
Virginia--He Moves across and Joins in the Final Operations--
His Administration at New Orleans--Grant's Opinion of Sheridan.
Major-General Philip Henry Sheridan is a full-blooded Irishman by
descent, though American by birth. He was born in poverty. So large a
share of American eminent men have been born poor, that it might almost
be said that in our country poverty in youth is the first requisite for
success in life.
Sheridan's parents, after remaining a few years at the east, moved to
Ohio, where their son grew up with very little schooling, and under the
useful necessity of working for a living. There is a story current of
his having been put upon a spirited horse when a boy of five, by some
mischievous mates, and run away with to a tavern some miles off. He
stuck fast to the horse, though without saddle or bridle, and without
size or strength to use them if he had them. It was by a mere chance
that he arrived safe, and when lifted off by the sympathizing family of
the inn, the little fellow admitted that he was shaken and sore with
his ride, but he added, "I'll be better to-morrow, _and then I'll ride
back home_." The incident is of no great importance in itself, but it
shows that even then the boy was already constitutionally destitute
of fear. He seems to have been made without the peculiar faculty
which makes people take danger into the account, and try to keep at a
distance from it. The full possession of this deficiency (if the phrase
is not too direct a contradiction in terms,) is quite uncommon. Admiral
Nelson had it, as was shown, very much in Sheridan's own style, in his
boyhood. The future victor of Trafalgar had strayed away from home, and
got lost. When he had been found and taken home, a relative remarked,
"I should have thought that fear would have kept you from going so
far away." "Fear?" said the young gentleman quite innocently; "Fear?
I don't know him!" He never afterwards made his acquaintance, either;
nor, it would seem, has Sheridan.
When young Sheridan received his appointment to a cadetship at West
Point, he was driving a water-cart in Zanesville, Ohio. The person who
actually procured the appointment was Gen. Thomas P. Ritchey, member
of Congress from Sheridan's district. The candidate was very young for
the appointment, and very small of his age, insomuch that his friends
considered it extremely doubtful whether he would be admitted. He was,
however, and passed through the regular West Point course, in the same
class with Generals McPherson, Scofield, Terrill, Sill and Tyler, and
with the rebel general Hood, who was so fearfully beaten by Thomas at
Nashville. His scholarship was not particularly remarkable, and as is
often the case with pupils who have no particular want of courage,
high health and spirits, or of the bodily and mental qualities for
doing things rather than for thinking about it, he experienced various
collisions of one and another kind, with the strict military discipline
of the institution.
He graduated in June, 1853, and as there was at the moment no vacant
second lieutenancy, he was given a brevet appointment, and sent out
in the next autumn to Fort Duncan on the Rio Grande, at the western
edge of Texas, and in the region haunted by two of the most ferocious
and boldest of the tribes sometimes called on the frontier the "horse
Indians"--the Apaches and Camanches.
From this time until the rebellion, Lieutenant Sheridan was serving,
not exactly his apprenticeship to his trade of war, but what would in
Germany be called his _wanderjähre_--his years as wandering journeyman.
It was an eight years of training in hardships and dangers more
incessant and more extreme than perhaps could be crowded into any life
except this of the American Indian-fighter; and doubtless its wild
experiences did much to develop the bodily and mental endurance and
the coolness and swift energy which have characterized Sheridan as a
commander.
For two years Sheridan was at Fort Duncan, and was then promoted to
first lieutenant, transferred to the Fourth Regiment, and after some
delay in New York waiting for some recruits, he accompanied them by
sea to the Pacific coast, and immediately on reaching San Francisco was
placed in command of the escort for a surveying expedition employed
on a branch of the Pacific Railroad. On this duty, and afterwards in
command of posts or on scouts and expeditions up and down those remote
and wild regions, the time passed until the outbreak of the war in 1861.
In the fights and adventures of this rough life, Sheridan's soldierly
qualities were often exhibited. While at Fort Duncan, being outside
the fort with two men, the three were surprised by a gang of a dozen
or more Apaches, whose chief, taking it for granted that the three had
surrendered, jumped down from his horse, to tie them up and have them
carried off. As he did so, Sheridan, quick as lightning, sprang up in
his place, and goaded the wild mustang at full speed to the fort. On
reaching it, he called instantly to arms, snatched a pair of pistols,
and without dismounting or waiting to see who followed, wheeled and
flew back as swiftly as he had come. His two men were fighting stoutly
for their lives. Sheridan dashed up and shot the chief. The soldiers,
following hard after him, charged the savages, and in a moment the
discomfited Apaches were ridden down, dispersed and most of them killed.
During Sheridan's stay in Oregon, his commanding officer, Major
Rains, (afterwards the rebel General Rains,) made a campaign against
the Yokima Indians, in which Sheridan did right good service, and so
conspicuously at the affair of the Cascades on the Columbia, April
28, 1856, as to be mentioned in general orders with high praise. The
Indians having been subdued, were placed on a tract called the Yokima
Reservation, and Sheridan was appointed to command a detachment of
troops posted among them, to act substantially as their governor. He
erected a post called Fort Yamhill, and remained there for two or
three years, ruling his wild subjects with a good deal of success,
and being quite popular with them, as well as praised and trusted by
his own superiors. An eye-witness has told the story of an occurrence
at Fort Yamhill, a good deal like the affair of the Apaches at Fort
Duncan, and which equally illustrates the swift and vehement courage
with which Sheridan always does his soldier's work. One day a quarrel
arose in the camp of the Yokimas, outside the fort. These turbulent
savages have no more self-control than so many tigers, and in a moment
their knives were out, and a bloody battle-royal was opened. Sheridan
was near enough to see that there was a fight, but happened to be
alone. He put spurs to his horse, hurried to the fort, ordered what few
soldiers were in sight to follow him, turned, set spurs to his horse
again, and dashed off for the Indian camp at the very top of his speed;
bare headed, sword in hand, _without once looking round to see if he
were followed_; and he charged headlong into the fray, riding through
the desperate Indian knife-fight as though it were a field of standing
grain. The soldiers felt the powerful magnetism of their leader, just
as Sheridan's soldiers have always felt it; and, our informant said,
every man of them drove on, just like his leader, without looking
behind to see if anybody followed. In they went, striking right and
left, and in a moment or two, they had charged once or twice through
the fight, and it was quelled.
Sheridan was an efficient manager of these Indians, and was popular
with them, too. Their wild, keen instincts appreciate courage and
energy, sense and kindness, quite as readily as do civilized men.
When the rebellion broke out, Sheridan was ordered East, and on May
14, 1861, was commissioned captain in the Thirteenth Regular Infantry.
He was soon sent to Missouri, where his first actual service in
the war was a term of office as president of a board for auditing
military claims. He was soon, however, sent into the field as chief
quartermaster and commissary under Gen. Curtis, and in that capacity
served through the brilliant and victorious, but terribly severe
campaign in which the desperate battle of Pea Ridge was fought. At this
time his professional ambition was not very high, for he observed one
day that "he was the sixty-fourth captain on the list, and with the
chances of war might soon be a major."
Sheridan is, however, thoroughly modest, and among ladies is--or
was--even excessively bashful. There is an amusing story on this point
about this very campaign. It is, that Sheridan, too bashful to seek
for himself the company of a certain young lady near Springfield,
used to furnish a horse and carriage to a smart young clerk of his,
conditionally that the said clerk should take the young lady out to
drive and entertain her--very much as Captain Miles Standish is said
to have once deputed John Alden on a similar errand. The clerk did so,
while Captain Sheridan stood in the door and experienced a shy delight
in seeing how well the substitute did duty. No end is known for this
story--except, indeed, that Captain Sheridan did not marry the lady.
There are on record some reminiscences of Sheridan's character as an
officer in this campaign, which paint him in a very agreeable light,
as at once energetic and thorough in duty, and kindly in feeling and
manner. It was a fellow-officer who thus wrote:
"The enlisted men on duty at headquarters, or in his own bureau,
remember him kindly. Not a clerk or orderly but treasures some act
of kindness done by Captain Sheridan. Never forgetting, nor allowing
others to forget, the respect due to him and his position, he was yet
the most approachable officer at headquarters. His knowledge of the
regulations and customs of the army, and of all professional minutiæ,
were ever at the disposal of any proper inquirer. Private soldiers are
seldom allowed to carry away as pleasant and kindly recollections of a
superior as those with which Captain Sheridan endowed us. * * * No man
has risen more rapidly with less jealousy, if the feelings entertained
by his old associates of the Army of the Southwest are any criterion."
Sheridan's next service was as General Halleck's chief quartermaster
in the Corinth campaign. Halleck seems to have thought very well of
Sheridan from the first, though apparently rather as a trustworthy
organizer and manager, than as such a military son of thunder as he has
turned out to be. After a time the nature of the war in those parts
occasioned a great demand for cavalry officers, and Sheridan being
pitched upon for one, was on May 27, 1862, commissioned colonel of the
2d Michigan Cavalry, and was at once sent into the field to help impede
the retreat of the rebels when they should evacuate Corinth.
In this and other similar work of that campaign, Sheridan became at
once known to the army and to his superiors as a splendid officer, and
from that time forward he rose and rose, up to the very last scene of
the Virginia campaign, where he wielded the troops that struck the most
telling of the final blows against Lee.
His first important service was to take part in Elliott's Booneville
expedition. In June he had a cavalry combat with the butcher Forrest,
and beat him, and was made acting brigadier. In July, having two
regiments with him, he was attacked by the rebel Chalmers with six
thousand men. Sheridan's position was strong enough, but he saw that he
would shortly be surrounded and starved out by mere weight of numbers.
So he contrived a neat and effective surprise; risky, it is true; but
it is exactly the character of an able commander to take risks at the
right time, _and not lose_. Sheridan sent round to the enemy's rear,
by a long detour, a force of about ninety troopers, with instructions
to fall on at a given time, when he would attack in concert with them.
This was done; the bold squad fired so fast from their repeating
carbines that the rebels, startled and perplexed, could not estimate
on the probable number attacking them, and were thrown into confusion.
At this moment, Sheridan charged in front with his whole force, and in
his own manner, and Chalmers' men, instantly breaking, fled in total
rout, and were pursued twenty miles, leaving the whole road strewn
with weapons, accoutrements and baggage thrown away in their flight.
General Grant, at this time Sheridan's department commander, reported
in strong commendation of Sheridan's conduct in this affair, and asked
a brigadier's commission for him, which was accordingly given, dated
July 15th, the day of Chalmers' first attack. Sheridan seems to like
to be attacked. He is sure of himself and of his men, conscious of his
own coolness, view of the field, recognition of the "critical five
seconds," and promptness in moving, and he prepares a return stroke
apparently quite as gladly as he administers a first assault.
When, in the summer of 1862, General Bragg advanced by a line far east
of the Union forces in the valley of the Mississippi, with the idea
of reaching the Ohio, and carrying the war into the North, Grant sent
Sheridan to Buell, commanding in Kentucky, who gave him a division
and placed him in command of Louisville. Here Sheridan in one night
completed a tolerable line of defence, and waited with confidence for
an attack, but Bragg never got so far. On Bragg's retreat was fought
the battle of Perrysville, which was given by the rebel leader to gain
time for his trains to escape from the rapid pursuit of the Union army.
In this battle, Sheridan with his division held the key of the Union
position, repulsed several desperate assaults, and twice, charging
in his turn, drove the rebels from their positions before him. His
division lost heavily, but he inflicted heavier losses on the rebels,
and his prompt tactics and keen fighting saved the Union army from
defeat.
In the terrible fight of Stone River, or Murfreesboro', Sheridan's
part, instead of being merely creditable or handsome, was glorious and
decisive. But for him, that great battle would have been a tremendous
defeat. How desperate the need of the crisis that Sheridan met there,
and how well he met it, may somewhat appear from the terms used by
the best historian thus far of that battle, in prefacing the detailed
account which he gives of the fighting of Sheridan and his men. Mr.
Swinton says:
"The difference between troops is great; the difference between
officers is immensely greater. While the two right divisions of McCook
were being assailed and brushed away, an equal hostile pressure fell
upon his left division (Sheridan's). But here a quite other result
attended the enemy's efforts; for not only were the direct attacks
repulsed with great slaughter, but when the flank of the division was
uncovered by the withdrawal of the troops on its right, its commander
effecting a skilful change of front, threw his men into position at
right angles with his former line, and having thus made for himself a
new flank, buffeted with such determined vigor and such rapid turns of
offence, that for two hours he held the Confederates at bay--_hours
precious, priceless, wrenched from fate and an exultant foe by the
skill and courage of this officer_, and bought by the blood of his
valiant men. This officer was Brigadier-General P. H. Sheridan."
Few fights were ever more splendidly soldierly than this of Sheridan's.
We cannot detail it; but when left with his flank totally uncovered,
and where he would have been perfectly justified in retreating,
he changed front under fire--the most difficult of all military
manoeuvres, repulsed the triumphant enemy four times, held his ground
until all three of his brigade commanders were shot; fought until all
his ammunition was gone, and no more to be had; then took to charging
with the cold steel; and when at last he had to retreat, he brought off
in good order the force that was left, "with compact ranks and empty
cartridge boxes," having lost seventeen hundred and ninety-six brave
men, and having gained the time which saved the battle; and reporting
to Rosecrans, he said with sorrow, "Here is all that are left." The hot
blooded Rousseau, who had been sent with his reserves into the dark,
close cedar thickets where Sheridan was fighting, described the scene
in words that enable the imagination to conceive what must have been
the reality of which a soldier spoke thus:
"I knew it was hell in there before I got in, but I was convinced of it
when I saw Phil Sheridan, with hat in one hand and sword in the other,
fighting as if he were the devil incarnate, or had a fresh indulgence
from Father Tracy every five minutes."
Father Tracy was Rosecrans' chaplain--Rosecrans and Sheridan both
being Catholics. It may be added that those who know Sheridan's battle
manners, may perhaps suspect that, he needed indulgence for some
offence in words as well as deeds. Gen. Sheridan was made major-general
for his services at Murfreesboro'.
We cannot do more than hastily sum up the later and even more brilliant
portion of Sheridan's splendid career; and indeed it is so much
better known that the task is the less needful. Sheridan was active
and useful during Rosecrans' advance on Chattanooga. At the defeat
of Chickamauga, his services were so conspicuous in making the best
of a bad matter, that Rosecrans in his report, "commended him to his
country."
Grant now succeeded Rosecrans, and gained the battle of Chattanooga,
Monday, Nov. 23, 1863. In the storming of Missionary Ridge, which
was the central glory of that fight, Sheridan and his men bore a
conspicuous part. When Grant was made Lieutenant General, he quickly
ordered Sheridan to report at Washington. Sheridan went, not knowing
whether for praise or blame, and was placed in command of all the
cavalry of the Army of the Potomac. When Grant crossed the Rapidan, and
began that bloody and toilsome, but shattering and finally decisive
series of movements which ended with the surrender of the Rebellion,
Sheridan and his horsemen were employed in reconnoitering and guarding
trains. May 9th, he set out on a raid around the rear of Lee's army,
in which he cut up communications, destroyed supplies, and rescued
prisoners; beat the rebel cavalry, killing its leader, J. E. B. Stuart;
penetrated within two miles of Richmond, thoroughly frightening the
rebel capital; extricated his force from a very difficult position on
the Chickahominy, by his peculiar style of swift manoeuvre and furious
fighting; and came safe through at last to Butler's headquarters.
On another similar expedition in June, he severely damaged the rebel
routes of supply to Richmond from the north and west; and for some
time after that, his cavalry were overrunning the country south of
Petersburg and Richmond, while Grant was establishing himself in the
lines before Petersburg.
Sheridan's great historic campaign in the Valley of Virginia was the
crowning glory of his splendid career in the war; a career perhaps more
brilliant with the gleams of battles than that of any other commander.
This fatal valley had from the very beginning of the war been the
opprobrium of the Union armies. From it came General Johnston and
those forces that reinforced Beauregard at Bull Run, and turned that
hap-hazard fight into a victory for the rebels. Through it, alternating
with the ground east of the Blue Ridge, the rebels moved backward and
forward, as they chose, like a checker-player in the "whip-row." In
it, one Union commander after another had been defeated and made to
look ridiculous; and it was the road along which every invasion of the
North, east of the mountains, was laid out, as a matter of course.
Sheridan turned this den of disgraces into a theatre all ablaze with
victories. He was appointed to the command Aug. 7, 1864; for six or
seven weeks simply covered the harvests from the rebel foragers; during
September was at last given leave by Grant to deliver battle; September
19th, defeated Early at Winchester; September 22d, defeated him
again at Fisher's Hill, whither he had retreated; and when the rebel
commander retreated again to the far southern passes of the Blue Ridge,
Sheridan laid the southern part of the valley thoroughly waste, to
prevent the enemy from finding support in it; on the 19th of October,
after his army had been surprised by the persevering Early, defeated,
and driven in disorder five miles, Sheridan faced it about, and turned
the defeat into the most dramatic, brilliant and famous of all his
victories.
In February of the following year, Sheridan took a place in that
vast ring of bayonets and sabres with which Grant sought to envelop
the remaining armies of the rebellion. On the 27th of that month, he
moved rapidly up the valley of his victories, ran over what was left
of Early's force, smashed it and captured two-thirds of it almost
without stopping, then crossed the Ridge, destroyed the James river
canal, and breaking up railroads and bridges as he went, rode across
the country to White House, and thence once more joined Grant below
Petersburg. Last of all, in the final campaign from March 29th to
Lee's surrender on April 9th, Sheridan and his troops were the strong
left hand of Grant in all those operations; thrust furthest out around
Lee, feeling and feeling after him, clutching him whenever there was
a chance, crushing him like a vice at every grasp, and throttling him
with relentless force, until the very power of further resistance was
gone, and that proposed charge of Sheridan's which was stopped by Lee's
flag of truce, would really have been made upon an almost helpless
and disorganized mass of starving, worn-out soldiers and disordered
wagon-trains.
General Sheridan's administration as military governor at New Orleans,
was a surprise to his friends, from its exhibition of broad and high
administrative qualities. Yet there is much that is alike in the
abilities of a good general and a good ruler. Gen. Grant is a very wise
judge of men, and his brief and characteristic record of his estimate
of Sheridan might have justified hopes equal to the actual result. To
any one remembering also his early days of authority over the Yokimas
in Oregon, it would doubtless have done so; for a Yokima community and
the community of an "unreconstructed" southern rebel city are a good
deal alike in many things. What Grant said of Sheridan was as follows,
and was sent to Secretary Stanton just after Cedar Creek, and a little
while before Sheridan's appointment as Major-General in the Regular
Army, in place of McClellan, resigned:
"CITY POINT, Thursday, Oct. 20, 8 p. m.
HON. E. M. STANTON, etc.:
I had a salute of one hundred guns from each of the armies here fired
in honor of Sheridan's last victory. Turning what bid fair to be a
disaster into a glorious victory, stamps Sheridan _what I always
thought him, one of the ablest of generals_.
U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."
The extraordinary series of popular ovations which have attended
Sheridan's recent tour through part of the North, have proved that he
is profoundly admired, honored and loved by all good citizens; and
unless we except Grant, probably Sheridan is the most popular--and
deservedly the most popular--of all the commanders in the war. Such
a popularity, and won not by words but by deeds, is an enviable
possession.
[Illustration: W. T. Sherman]