THE LEADERS AND THE LED.
Thus much of detail arranged, General Lee was, for the present,
detained in Richmond by the President, as consulting and organizing
officer; and to aid the Adjutant-General--Samuel Cooper, senior general
of the five--in the location of armies, distribution of troops, and
assignment of officers. General Lee's perfect knowledge of the
_materiel_ of the Virginia army and of the topographical features of
the state, peculiarly fitted him for this work; but every step was
taken subject to the decision of Mr. Davis himself. The appointments of
officers, the distribution of troops--in fact, the minutiae of the War
Department--were managed by him in person.
He seemed fully alive to the vital importance of making the groundwork
of the military system solid and smooth. Real preparations had begun so
late that only the strong hand could now avail; and though Mr. Walker
still held the empty portfolio of the secretaryship, he, and the army,
and the country knew who, in fact, did the work. But to do Mr. Davis
justice, he did not make his _fantoccini_ suffer if he pulled the
wires the wrong way. He was not only President and secretary of five
departments--which naturally caused some errors; but that spice of the
dictator in him made him quite willing to shoulder the responsibilities
of all the positions.
Now, as in Montgomery, I wondered that the frail body--that could not
bend--did not break beneath the load of anxiety and bodily labor he
imposed upon it. His energy and industry were untiring; and every
afternoon the declining sun found him in the saddle, inspecting and
reviewing the troops, at one of the many camps near town. Sometimes the
hard, stolid face of the Postmaster-General appeared at his side; again
Senator Wigfall galloped along, with his pants stuck in his boots and
seeming to enjoy the saddle much more than the curule chair; and often
"Little Jeff"--the Benjamin of Mr. Davis' household--trotted at his
side. But there was never a suite, seldom a courier; and wherever he
went, plain, stirring syllables of cheer--and strong, grave words of
incentive--dropped from his lips among the soldiery. They were
treasured as the truth, too, by that rough auditory; for as yet, Mr.
Davis was in the zenith of his popularity--a perfect idol with army and
people. The first sight of the tall, erect figure, swaying so easily to
the action of the powerful gray, was a signal for the wildest cheers
from the camps; and the people in the streets raised their hats and
stood uncovered while the representative man passed.
Cavil, jealousy and partisan intrigue, in which he and the cause
finally went down together, had not yet done their work. There were
many murmurers at real, many growlers at supposed, errors; but no
opposition party--truer to itself and its interests than to the
cause--had yet been organized on a basis strong enough to defy and
thwart "the man."
Every one connected with the government remarked the vast difference of
its reception by the Richmond and Montgomery people. The Alabamians
came forward with decision and alacrity to offer their lives and
fortunes to the cause. They made any sacrifices to the government, as
such; but, privately, they regarded the individuals connected with it
as social brigands come to rob their society of all that was good and
pure in it.
Richmond, on the contrary, having given the invitation, made the best
of it when accepted. The people united in sincere effort to show a
whole-souled hospitality to all strangers deserving of it. Gentlemen in
the government were received with frank and free-handed kindness; and
even a wretch, who had wintered in the shade of the Washington upas,
was allowed to flutter about and not be gunned for by the
double-barreled spectacles of every respectable dowager!
Richmond was always a great place for excitements; but with the great
addition of inflammable material recently, it required but a very small
spark to raise a roaring, if not dangerous, flame.
On a bright Sunday in April, when
"The beams of God's own hallowed day
Had painted every spire with gold,
And, calling sinful men to pray,
Long, loud and deep the bell had tolled"--
the citizens were worshipping quietly and a peaceful stillness reigned
everywhere. Suddenly, as if a rocket had gone up, the rumor flew from
mouth to mouth that the "Pawnee" was steaming up the river to shell the
city. The congregations, not waiting to be dismissed, rushed from the
churches with a single impulse; the alarm bell in the Square pealed out
with a frightened chime. For once, even the women of Richmond were
alarmed. The whole population flocked toward "Rocketts"--every eye
strained to catch a first glimpse of the terrible monster approaching
so rapidly. Old and young men, in Sunday attire, hastened along with
rusty muskets and neat "Mantons" on their shoulders; groups of
bareheaded ladies were at the corners, asking the news and repeating
every fear-invented tale; and more than one of the "solid men" was seen
with hand-baskets, loaded with rock, to dam the river! Late in the
evening, the veterans of six hours were dismissed, it turning out that
there was no cause whatever for the alarm; and when after events showed
them that vessel--so battered and badgered by the river
batteries--"Pawnee Sunday" became a by-word among the citizens.
Richmond was not cosmopolitan in her habits or ideas, and there was, in
some quarters, a vague, lingering suspicion as to the result of the
experiment; but the society felt that the government was its guest, and
as such was to be honored. The city itself was a small one, the society
was general and provincial; and there was in it a sort of
brotherly-love tone that struck a stranger, at first, as very curious.
This was, in a great measure, attributable to the fact that the social
circle had been for years a constant quantity, and everybody in it had
known everybody else since childhood.
The men, as a general thing, were very cordial to the strangers, and
some very delightful and some very odd acquaintances were made among
them. Chief among the latter was one, whom we may call--as he would say
"for euphony"--Will Wyatt; the most perfect specimen of the genus
man-about-town in the city. He was very young, with wealth, a pleasing
exterior, and an absolute greed for society. His naturally good mind
had been very prettily cultivated--by himself rather than his
masters--and he had traveled just enough to understand, without
despising, the weaknesses of his compatriots. He and the omniscient
Styles were fast friends, and a card to Wyatt, signed "Fondly thine
own, S. S.," had done the business for me. His house, horses and
friends were all at my service; and in the few intervals that anxiety
and duty left for ennui, he effectually drove the monster off.
"I'm devilish sorry, old man," he said, one day, after we got well
acquainted, "that there's nothing going on in the social line. Drop in
on me at six, to dinner; and I'll show you a clever fellow or two, and
maybe have some music. You understand, my dear boy, we don't entertain
now. After all, it's so late in the season there'd be little doing in
peace times; but this infernal war has smashed us up completely.
Getting your nose red taking leave of your tender family is the only
style they vote at all nobby now--_A diner!_"
The dinner and music at Wyatt's were not warlike--and particularly was
the wine not of that description; but the men were. Over cigars, the
conversation turned upon the organization of the army; and, accustomed
as I was to seeing "the best men in the ranks," the way these young
bloods talked rather astounded me.
"Private in 'Co. F,'" answered John C. to my query--he represented one
of the finest estates on the river--"You've heard of 'F,' of course. We
hang by the old company. Wyatt has just refused a captaincy of
engineers to stick as third corporal."
"Neat that, in John," put in Wyatt, "when he was offered the majority
of a regiment of cavalry and refused it to stay in."
"And why not?" said George H. shortly. "Pass the Madeira, Will. I
wouldn't give my place in 'F' for the best majority going. As far as
that goes it's a mere matter of taste, I know. But the fact is, if we
of the old organizations dodge our duty now by hunting commissions, how
can we hope that the people will come to time promptly?" George H. had
a quarter of a million to his credit, and was an only son--"Now, I
think Bev did a foolish thing not to take his regiment when Uncle Jeff
offered him the commission."
"I don't see it," responded Beverly I. in an aggrieved tone. "You
fellows in 'F' were down on your captain when he took his colonelcy;
and I'm as proud of my junior lieutenancy in the old First, as if I
commanded 'F' company itself!"
"But is it usual," I queried, "for you gentlemen to refuse promotion
when offered--I don't mean to not seek it--to remain with your old
companies? Would you stay in the ranks as a private when as a captain
or major you might do better service?"
"_Peutetre_ for the present," responded Wyatt--"Don't misunderstand us;
we're not riding at windmills, and I sincerely hope you'll see us all
with wreaths on our collars yet. But there's a tacit agreement that
just now we can do more good in the ranks than anywhere else. For
myself, I don't delight in drill and dirt, and don't endorse that
sentimental bosh about the 'post of honor.' But our duty is where we
can do most good, and our example will decide many doubtful ones and
shame the laggard."
"And we'll all go out after a few fights, if we don't get popped off,"
put in George H., "and then we'll feel we've won our spurs!"
"Well, I'm not too modest to say that I think we _are_ pretty expensive
food for powder," said John C., "but then we're not worth more than the
'Crescents,' the 'Cadets,' or 'Hampton's Legion.' The colonel's sons
are both in the ranks of the Legion, and refused commissions. Why
should the best blood of Carolina do more than the best blood of
Virginia?"
"And see those Baltimore boys," said Adjutant Y., of a Georgia legion.
"They've given up home, friends and wealth to come and fight for us and
the cause. They don't go round begging for commissions! If my colonel
didn't insist I was more useful where I am, I'd drop the bar and take a
musket among them. That sort of stock I like!" But if Lieutenant Y.
_had_ taken the musket, a stray bullet might have spoiled a most
dashing major-general of cavalry.
"I fear very much," I answered, "that the war will be long enough for
all the really good material to come to the surface. The preparations
at the North are on a scale we never before dreamed of, and her
government seems determined to enforce obedience."
"God forbid!" and Wyatt spoke more solemnly than I ever heard him
before. "But I begin to believe as you do. I'd sooner risk my wreath
than that 'the good material' you speak of should have the 'chance to
come to the surface.' Think how many a good fellow would be under the
surface by that time!"
"It sometimes sickens me on parade," said George H., "when I look down
the line and think what a gap in our old set a volley will make! I
think we _are_ pretty expensive food for powder, John. Minies are no
respecters of persons, old fellow; and there'll be many a black dress
in Richmond after the first bulletin."
"God send we may all meet here after the war, and drink to the New
Nation in Wyatt's sherry!" said Lieutenant Y. "It's better than the
water at Howard's Grove. But the mare'll have hot work to get the
adjutant into camp before taps. So, here's how!" and he filled his
glass and tossed it off, as we broke up.
I have recorded the spirit of a private, everyday conversation, just as
I heard it over a dinner-table, from a party of giddy young men. But I
thought over it long that night; and many times afterward when the
sickening bulletins were posted after the battles.
Here were as gay and reckless a set of youths as wealth, position and
everything to make life dear to them could produce, going into a
desperate war--with a perfect sense of its perils, its probable
duration and its rewards--yet refusing promotion offered, that their
example might be more beneficial in calling out volunteers.
And there was no Quixotism. It was the result of reason and a
conviction that they were only doing their duty; for, I believe every
man of those I had just left perfectly appreciated the trials and
discomforts he was preparing for himself, and felt the advantages that
a commission, this early in the war, would give him!
It may be that this "romance of war" was not of long duration; and that
after the first campaign the better class of men anxiously sought
promotion. This was natural enough. They had won the right to it; and
the sacrifice of their good example had not been without effect. But I
do think it was much less natural that they should have so acted in the
first place.
Industry and bustle were still the order of the day in camp; and, in
town, the activity increased rather than abated. There were few idlers
about Richmond, even chronic "do-nothings" becoming impressed with the
idea that in the universal work they must do something.
The name of Henry A. Wise was relied upon by the Government as a great
power to draw volunteers from the people he had so frequently
represented in various capacities. The commission of brigadier-general
was given him, with authority to raise a brigade to be called the "Wise
Legion," to operate in Western Virginia. Though there was no reason to
think Wise would make a great soldier, his personal popularity was
supposed to be sufficient to counterbalance that objection; for it was
of the first importance to the Government that the western half of the
State should be saved to the Confederate cause. In the first place, the
active and hardy population was splendid material for soldiers, and it
was believed at Richmond that, with proper pressure applied, they would
take up arms for the South in great numbers; otherwise, when the
Federal troops advanced into their country, they might go to the other
side. Again, the products of the rich western region were almost
essential to the support of the troops in Virginia, in view of
contracted facilities for transportation; and the product of the
Kanawha Salines alone--the only regular and very extensive salt works
in the country--were worth a strenuous effort. This portion of
Virginia, too, was a great military highway for United States troops,
_en route_ to the West; and once securely lodged in its almost
impregnable fastnesses, their ejection would be practically impossible.
General Garnett--an old army officer of reputation and promise--was
already in that field, with a handful of troops from the Virginia army;
among them a regiment from about Richmond, commanded by Lieutenant
Colonel Pegram. The Federals, grasping at once the full importance of
this position, had sent to meet this demonstration an army under
General McClellan, with Rosecrans commanding the advance. There had
been no collision, but its approach could not be long delayed; and the
South wanted men.
In this posture of affairs, General Wise received his commission and
orders. The old politician donned his uniform with great alacrity;
called about him a few of the best companies of Richmond, as a nucleus;
and went to work with all the vim and activity expected by those who
knew him best. The "Richmond Light Infantry Blues"--the oldest company
in Richmond, commanded by his son--was foremost among them. "Co. F" was
to go West, too; and though its members, one and all, would have
preferred a more promising sphere of duty, at Yorktown, or on the
Potomac, every man acquiesced with cheerful spirit.
"Sair was the weeping" of the matrons and maidens of Richmond, when
told their darlings were to go; but their sorrow did not prevent the
most active demonstrations toward the comfort of the outer and inner
man.
"Not a pleasant summer jaunt we're to have, old man," Wyatt said when
he bade me good-bye. "I've been to that country hunting and found it
devilish fine; but 'tisn't so fine by half when you're hunting a Yank,
who has a long-range rifle and is likewise hunting for you. Then I've
an idea of perpetual snow--glaciers--and all that sort of thing. I feel
like the new John Franklin. But I'll write a book--'Trapping the Yank
in the Ice-fields of the South.' Taking title, eh? But seriously, I
know we can't all go to Beauregard; and there'll be fighting enough all
round before it 'holds up.' God bless you! We'll meet somewhere; if not
before, when I come down in the fall to show you the new stars on my
collar!"
Thus "Co. F" went into the campaign. Its record there is history. So is
that of many another like it.
As I have tried to show, this spirit pervaded the whole South to an
almost universal extent. Companies like these, scattered among the
grosser material of the army, must have been the alloy that gave to the
whole mass that true ring which will sound down all history! The coarse
natures around could but be shamed into imitation, when they saw the
delicately nurtured darlings of society toiling through mud knee deep,
or sleeping in stiffening blankets, without a murmur! And many a charge
has been saved because a regiment like the First Virginia or the
Alabama Third walked straight into the iron hail, as though it had been
a carnival pelting!
The man who tells us that blood has little effect must have read
history to very little purpose; or have looked very carelessly into the
glass that Nature hourly holds up to his view.
Wyatt was right when he said "there was nothing doing" socially. But
there was much doing otherwise. The war was young yet, and each
household had its engrossing excitement in getting its loved ones ready
for the field. The pets of the ball-room were to lay aside broadcloth
and kids; and the pump-soled boots of the "german" were to be changed
for the brogan of the camp.
The women of the city were too busy now to care for society and its
frippery; the new objects of life filled every hour. The anxieties of
the war were not yet a twice-told tale, and no artificial excitements
were needed to drive them away. The women of Virginia, like her men,
were animated with a spirit of devotion and self-sacrifice. Mothers
sent their youngest born to the front, and bade them bear their
shields, or be found under them; and the damsel who did not bid her
lover "God speed and go!" would have been a finger point and a scoff.
And the flags for their pet regiments--though many a bitter tear was
broidered into their folds--were always given with the brave injunction
to bear them worthily, even to the death!
The spirit upon the people--one and all--was "The cause--not us!" and
under the rough gray, hearts beat with as high a chivalry as--
"In the brave, good days of old,
When men for virtue and honor fought
In serried ranks, 'neath their banners bright,
By the fairy hands of beauty wrought,
And broidered with 'God and Right!'"