From saddening associations with the tragical death of Mr. Lincoln,
popular attention was turned three weeks after his interment to a
great military display in the Capital of the Nation in honor of the
final victory for the Union. The exigencies of the closing campaign
had transferred the armies commanded by General Sherman from the
Mississippi Valley to the Atlantic coast. The soldiers of Port Hudson
and Vicksburg, the heroes of Donelson, Chattanooga, and Atlanta, had
been brought within a day's march of the bronzed veterans whose
battle-flags were emblazoned with the victories of Antietam and
Gettysburg and with the crowning triumph at Appomattox. It was the
happy suggestion of Secretary Stanton which assembled all these forces
in the National Capital to be viewed by the Commander-in-Chief.
Through four years of stern and perilous duty, there had been no
holiday, no parade of ceremony, no evolution for mere display, either
by the troops of the East or of the West. Their time had been passed
in camp and in siege, in march and in battle, with no effort relaxed,
no vigor abated, no vigilance suspended, during all the long period
when the fate of the Union was at stake. It was now fitting that the
President, attended by the chief officers of the Government, should
welcome them and honor them in the name of the Republic. They had
brought from the field the priceless trophy of American Nationality as
the reward of their valorous struggle. By the voice of the people a
"triumph" as demonstrative, if not as formal, as that given to a
conqueror in Ancient Rome was now decreed to them. They had earned
the right to be applauded on the _via sacra_, and to receive the
laurel-wreath from the steps of the Capitol.
The first day's review, Wednesday, May 23, was given to the Army of the
Potomac, of which General Meade had remained the commander since the
victory at Gettysburg, but whose operations during the closing year of
the struggle had been under the personal direction of General Grant. A
part only of its vast forces marched through Washington on that day of
loyal pride and gladness; but the number was large beyond the power of
the eye to apprehend, beyond any but the skilled mind to reckon. An
approximate conception of it can be reached by stating that one hundred
and fifty-one regiments of infantry, thirty-six regiments of cavalry,
and twenty-two batteries of artillery passed under the eye of the
President, who reviewed the whole from a platform in front of the
Executive Mansion.
On the ensuing day the Army of the Tennessee and the Army of Georgia,
constituting the right and left wing of General Sherman's forces, were
reviewed. There was naturally some rivalry of a friendly type between
the Eastern and Western soldiers, and special observation was made of
their respective qualities and characteristics. The geographical
distinction was not altogether accurate, for Western troops had always
formed a valuable part of the Army of the Potomac; while troops from
the East were incorporated in Sherman's army, and had shared the
glories of the Atlanta campaign and of the March to the sea. It was
true, however, that the great mass of the Army of the Potomac came from
the eastern side of the Alleghanies, while the great mass of Sherman's
command came from the western side. The aggregate number reviewed on
the second day did not differ materially from the number on the first
day. There were some twenty more regiments of infantry on the second
day, but fewer cavalry regiments and fewer batteries of artillery.
The special interest which attached to the review, aside from the
inestimable significance of a restored Union, consisted in the fact
that the spectators, who were reckoned by tens of thousands, saw before
them an actual, living, fighting army. They were not holiday troops
with bright uniforms, trained only for display and carrying guns that
were never discharged against a foe. They were a great body of
veterans who had not slept under a roof for years, who had marched over
countries more extended than those traversed by the Legions of Cæsar,
who had come from a hundred battle-fields on which they had left dead
comrades more numerous than the living who now celebrated the final
victory of peace. It was the remembrance of this which in all the glad
rejoicing over the past and all the bright anticipation of the future
lent a tinge of sadness to the splendid and inspiring spectacle of the
day. The applause so heartily given for the soldiers who were present
could not be unaccompanied by tears for the fate of that vast host
which had gone down to death without even the consolation of knowing
that they had not died in vain.
In the four years of their service the armies of the Union, counting
every form of conflict, great and small, had been in twenty-two
hundred and sixty-five engagements with the Confederate troops. From
the time when active hostilities began until the last gun of the war
was fired, a fight of some kind--a raid, a skirmish, or a pitched
battle--occurred at some point on our widely extended front nearly
eleven times a week upon an average. Counting only those engagements
in which the Union loss in killed, wounded, and missing exceeded one
hundred, the total number was three hundred and thirty,--averaging one
every four and a half days. From the northernmost point of contact to
the southernmost, the distance by any practicable line of
communications was more than two thousand miles. From East to West the
extremes were fifteen hundred miles apart.
During the first year of hostilities--one of preparation on both sides
--the battles were naturally fewer in number and less decisive in
character than afterwards, when discipline had been imparted to the
troops by drill, and when the _materiel_ of war had been collected and
stored for prolonged campaigns. The engagements of all kinds in 1861
were thirty-five in number, of which the most serious was the Union
defeat at Bull Run. In 1862 the war had greatly increased in magnitude
and intensity, as is shown by the eighty-four engagements between the
armies. The net result of the year's operations was highly favorable
to the Rebellion. In 1863 the battles were one hundred and ten in
number--among them some of the most significant and important victories
for the Union. In 1864 there were seventy-three engagements, and in
the winter and early spring of 1865 there were twenty-eight.
In fact, 1864-65 was one continuous campaign. The armies of the Union
did not go into winter-quarters to the extent of abandoning or
suspending operations. They felt that it was in their power to bring
the struggle to an end at once, and they pressed forward with
prodigious vigor and with complete success. General Grant with his
characteristic energy insisted that "active and continuous operations
of all the troops that could be brought into the field regardless of
season and weather were necessary to a speedy termination of the war."
He had seen, as he expressed it in his own terse, quaint language, that
"the armies of the East and the West had been acting independently and
without concert, like a balky team, no two of them ever pulling
together." Under his direction the forces of the Union, however
distant from each other, were brought into harmonious co-operation and
with the happiest results. The discipline of the Union army was never
so fine, its vigor was never so great, its spirit was never so high, as
at the close of that terrible campaign which under Grant's command in
the East began at the Wilderness and ended with Lee's surrender, and
which under Sherman's command in the West began with the march towards
Atlanta, and closed with the complete conquest of Georgia and the
Carolinas.
A grave moral responsibility rests upon those who continue a contest
of arms after it is made clear that there is no longer a possibility of
success. However far the laws of war may justify a belligerent in
deceiving an enemy, the laws of honorable and humane dealing are
violated with one's own partisans when a brave and confiding soldiery
are led into a fight known by their commanders to be hopeless. Early
in January, 1865, Jefferson Davis indicated the desire of the
Confederate authorities to negotiate with the National Government for
the arrangement of the terms of peace, and as a result the famous
conference was held at Fortress Monroe. This step was taken by Mr.
Davis because he saw that further effort on the part of the
Confederates must be utterly futile. When he failed at this conference
to secure any recognition of his government, he spitefully turned to
the prolongation of the struggle. Every life destroyed in the conflict
thereafter was needless slaughter, and the blood of the victims cries
out against the Confederate Government for compelling the sacrifice.
When at last through sheer exhaustion the Confederate Armies ceased
resistance and surrendered, they did so on precisely the same terms
that had been offered by the Government of the Union three months
before. In the _interim_ the Confederate leaders had been deluding
their people with the pretense that the "Lincoln Government" had
outraged the South in refusing to recognize Confederate Nationality
even long enough to treat with it for peace. "Nothing beyond this,"
exclaimed Mr. Robert M. T. Hunter in a speech delivered at a meeting
in Richmond held immediately after the Peace Conference to which he
had been one of the commissioners,--"Nothing beyond this is needed to
stir the blood of Southern men." In the course of his inflammatory
address Mr. Hunter made the _naïve_ confession: "If our people exhibit
the proper spirit they will bring forth the deserters from their
caves; and the skulkers, who are avoiding the perils of the field, will
go forth to share the dangers of their countrymen." The "skulkers" and
"deserters" referred to were no doubt brave men who, having fought as
long as there was hope, were not ambitious to sacrifice their lives to
carry on the shameless bravado of the political leaders of the
Rebellion.
Mr. Hunter spoke with singular intemperance of tone for one who was
usually cool, guarded, and conservative. He was followed by the
_Mephistopheles_ of the Rebellion, the brilliant, learned, sinister
Secretary of State, Judah P. Benjamin. He spoke as one who felt that
he had the _alias_ of an English subject for shelter, or possibly the
Spanish flag for protection, when the worst should come, and thus he
might continue to play the part of Confederate citizen so long as it
favored his ambition and his fortune. He delivered a speech full of
desperate suggestion--so desperate indeed that it re-acted and
injured the cause for which he was demanding harsh sacrifices on the
part of others. He urged upon his hearers that the States of the
Confederacy had nearly seven hundred thousand male slaves of the age
for military service. He gave the assurance that if freedom should
be conceded to these men they would fight in aid of the Rebellion.
Besides advocating a guaranty of emancipation to all these black
men,--for the right to keep whom in slavery the war had been
undertaken,--Mr. Benjamin urged that every bale of cotton, every
hogshead of tobacco, every pound of bacon, every barrel of flour,
should be seized for the benefit of the common cause.
Happily Mr. Benjamin went too far. His over-zeal had tempted him to
prove too much. The Southern people who had desired to build up a
slave empire, and who despised the negro as a freeman, were asked by
Mr. Benjamin to surrender this cherished project, and join with him in
the ignoble design of founding a confederacy whose corner-stone should
rest on hatred of the Northern States, and whose one achievement
should be the revival and extension of English commercial power on
this continent. When the end came, Mr. Benjamin did not share the
disasters and sacrifices with the sincere and earnest men whom he had
done so much to mislead, and to whom he was bound in an especial manner
by the tie which unites the victims of a common calamity. Instead of
this magnanimous course which would in part have redeemed his
wrong-doing, Mr. Benjamin took quick refuge under the flag to whose
allegiance he was born. He left America with the full consciousness
that to the measure of his ability, which was great, he had inflicted
injury upon the country which had sheltered and educated him, and
which had opened to him the opportunity for that large personal
influence which he had used so discreditably to himself and so
disastrously to the cause he espoused.
Mr. Benjamin became a resident of London and subsequently won
distinction at the English Bar--rising to the eminence of Queen's
counsel. His ability and learning were everywhere recognized, but it
was at the same time admitted that he owed much of his success to the
sympathy and the support of that preponderating class among British
merchants who cordially wished and worked for our destruction,--who,
covertly throughout the entire civil conflict, and openly where safe
opportunity was presented, did all in their power to embarrass and
injure the Union. If Mr. Benjamin had been loyal, and had honorably
observed the special oath which he had taken to maintain and defend
the Constitution, he might in vain have sought the patronage of that
large number of Englishmen who enriched him with generous retainers.
No one grudged to Mr. Benjamin the wages of his professional work, the
reward of ability and industry; but the manner in which he was lauded
into notoriety in London, the effort constantly made to lionize and to
aggrandize him, were conspicuous demonstrations of hatred to our
Government, and were significant expressions of regret that Mr.
Benjamin's treason had not been successful. Those whom he served
either in the Confederacy or in England in his efforts to destroy the
American Union may eulogize him according to his work; but every
citizen of the Great Republic, whose loyalty was unswerving, will
regard Mr. Benjamin as a foe in whom malignity was unrelieved by a
single trace of magnanimity.
The Confederates had failed in war, but their leaders had not the moral
courage to accept the only practicable peace. Their subsequent course
in Congress, in the Cabinet, and in the field, exposed in very striking
outline the strong points and the weak points of Southern character.
It exhibited Southern men as possessed of the utmost physical
courage--often carried indeed to foolish audacity. It exhibited them
at the same time as singularly deficient in the attribute of moral
courage. When the Southern leaders knew the Confederate cause to be
hopeless not a single man among them displayed sufficient heroism to
brave public opinion with the declaration of his honest belief. The
absolute suppression of free discussion which had long prevailed in
the South, the frequent murder of those who attempted to express an
unpopular opinion however honestly entertained, had deprived brave
men of every trait of that higher form of courage which has given
immortality of fame to the moral heroes of the world.
Not individually alone but in combined action this weak trait of
Southern character was made manifest. Only a month before the time
when the Confederacy was in ruins and the members of its Congress were
fugitives from its Capital, they united in an inflammatory address to
the people of the South, urging them to continue the contest. They
made assertions and employed arguments which as men of intelligence
they could not themselves believe and accept. They strove by exciting
evil passions and blind animosities to hurl the soldiers of the
Confederacy once more into a desperate fight with all its suffering and
with certain defeat. In this address, which was the unanimous vote of
the Confederate Senate and the Confederate House of Representatives,
the people were told that if they failed in the war, "the Southern
States would be held as conquered provinces by the despotic government
at Washington;" that they "would be kept in subjugation by the stern
hand of military power as Venice and Lombardy have been held by
Austria, as Poland is held by the Russian Czar." A still more terrible
fate was foretold. "Not only," continued the address, "would we be
deprived of every political franchise dear to freemen, but socially we
would be degraded to the level of slaves. . . . Not only would the
property and estates of vanquished rebels be confiscated, but they
would be divided and distributed among our African bondsmen."
Even the extravagance and absurdity of the foregoing declarations were
outdone in other parts of the address. These senators and
representatives--not ignorant men themselves--presumed so far upon the
ignorance of their constituents as to assure them that "our enemies
with a boastful insolence unparalleled in the history of modern
civilization have threatened not only our subjugation, but some of them
have announced their determination if successful in this struggle to
deport our entire white population, and supplant it with a new
population drawn from their own territory and from European countries.
. . . Think of it! That we the descendants of a brave ancestry who
wrested from a powerful nation by force of arms the country which we
inhabit--bequeathed to us by them, and upon which we have been born and
reared; that we should be uprooted from it and an alien population
planted in our stead is a thought that should inspire us with undying
hostility to an enemy base enough to have conceived it."
The white population of the eleven Confederate States was at that time
between five and six millions. Of course no man who signed the address
believed its statements. No one believed that the Government of the
United States or the loyal people of the North were so inhuman and so
unpatriotic as to advocate the deportation of this vast population, or
so foolish as to think that such a task would be practicable even if it
were desirable. The address was read in the North immediately after it
was issued, and created a mingled feeling of astonishment, amusement,
and sorrow. The severest comment made upon it was the remark of a
Republican representative in Congress who had a most kindly feeling for
the men of the South--that "the deportation for life of the men who
signed and issued the libel would not only be a just punishment for the
offense, but would be an undoubted advantage to both North and South."
The close of the address was in harmony with its opening, and contained
an argument which to some minds relieved the whole document from
wickedness by making it ludicrous. Its last words insisted that
"failure makes us vassals of an arrogant people--secretly if not openly
hated by the most enlightened and elevated portions of mankind.
Success records us forever in letters of light upon one of the most
glorious pages of history. _Failure will compel us to drink the cup of
humiliation even to the bitter dregs of having the history of our
struggle written by New-England historians_."
The same lack of moral courage to face the inevitable and deal frankly
with friends and supporters was still more palpably shown by Jefferson
Davis when he sent a message to the Confederate Congress on March 13,
three weeks before the fall of Richmond, in a tone similar to that of
the famous address. Even after he was a fugitive, and the Capital of
the Confederacy was in the possession of the Union Army, Mr. Davis
halted long enough at Danville, to issue a proclamation in which he
said, "We have now entered upon a new phase of the struggle. Relieved
from the necessity of guarding particular points, our army will be
free to move from point to point to strike the enemy in detail far from
his base. Let us but will it, and we are free. . . . Let us not
despond, my countrymen, but, relying on God, meet the foe with fresh
defiance, with unconquered and unconquerable hearts." It is clearly
established that Mr. Davis was fully aware of the state of affairs
when he issued this misleading and inexcusable proclamation. Four
days after its publication the army upon which he relied even for
personal protection surrendered to General Grant, and Mr. Davis again
sought safety in flight.
These extravagant misrepresentations do infinite damage to the
Confederate cause and to the Confederate leaders in history. They
reveal in strong light the method by which those leaders were
willing to impose and actually did impose upon the almost unlimited
credulity of the white population of their States. Prejudice on the
question of slavery could be easily stimulated, and no effort was
spared to poison the minds of the Southern people against the National
Government and against the Northern people. But the exaggerations at
the close of the struggle were no greater than those which had been
employed at its commencement. From beginning to end the Rebellion was
based upon the suppression of that which was true and the suggestion of
that which was untrue. To mete out the proper share of responsibility
to the leaders who organized the insurrection would be a task at once
ungracious and impossible. The aggressive character of the movement
was not concealed, and the motives underlying it were understood. That
which was not understood, and which still remains to be accounted for,
was the conduct of the thousands of Southern Unionists who did not
express their opinions and maintain their faith with the firmness and
effectiveness which had been widely hoped for and expected in the
North. From the timidity of the friends of the Union and the boldness
of the advocates of Secession, it is not difficult to understand how
the large class of poor whites in the South could be urged into a
contest in which every blow struck by them was in support of a system
to whose baleful influence they owed their own ignorance, their social
degradation, their pitiable poverty.
The wonder excited by the raising of the vast army which saved the
Union from destruction was even surpassed by the wonder excited by
its prompt and peaceful dissolution. On the day that the task of
disbandment was undertaken, the Army of the United States bore upon its
rolls the names of one million five hundred and sixteen men
(1,000,516). The killed, and those who had previously retired on
account of wounds and sickness and from the expiration of shorter terms
of service, aggregated, after making due allowance for re-enlistments
of the same persons, at least another million. The living among these
had retired gradually during the war, and had resumed their old
avocations, or, in the great demand for workmen created by the war
itself, had found new employment. But with the close of hostilities
many industries which had been created by the demands of war ceased,
and thousand of men were thrown out of employment. The disbandment of
the Volunteer Army would undoubtedly add hundreds of thousands to this
number, and thus still further overstock and embarrass the labor-market.
The prospect was not encouraging, and many judicious men feared the
result.
Happily all anticipations of evil proved groundless. By an instinct of
self-support and self-adjustment, that great body of men who left the
military service during the latter half of the year 1865 and early in
the year 1866 re-entered civil life with apparent contentment and even
with certain advantages. Their experience as soldiers, so far from
unfitting them for the duties and callings of Peace, seem rather to
have proved an admirable school, and to have given them habits of
promptness and punctuality, order and neatness, which added largely to
their efficiency in whatever field they were called to labor. After
the Continental Army was dissolved, its members were found to be
models of industry and intelligence in all the walks of life. The
successful mechanics, the thrifty tradesmen, the well-to-do farmers in
the old thirteen States were found, in great proportion, to have held a
commission or carried a musket in the Army of the Revolution. They
were, moreover, the strong pioneers who settled the first tier of
States to the westward, and laid the solid foundation which assured
progress and prosperity to their descendants. Their success as civil
magistrates, as legislators, as executives was not less marked and
meritorious than their illustrious service in war. The same cause
brought the same result a century later in men of the same blood
fighting with equal valor the same battle of Constitutional liberty.
The inspiration of a great cause does not fail to ennoble the humblest
of those who do battle in its defense. Those who stood in the ranks of
the Union Army have established this truth by the twenty years of
honorable life through which they have passed since their patriotic
service was crowned with victory.
The officers who led the Union Army throughout all the stages of the
civil conflict were in the main young men. This feature has been a
distinguishing mark in nearly all the wars in which the American
people have taken part, and with a few notable exceptions has been
the rule in the leading military struggles of the world. Alexander
the Great died in his thirty-second year. Cæsar entered upon the
conquest of Gaul at forty. Frederick the Great was the leading
commander of Europe at thirty-three. Napoleon and Wellington, born in
the same year, fought their last battle at forty-six years of age. On
the exceptional side Marlborough's greatest victories were won when
he was nearly sixty (though he had been brilliantly distinguished at
twenty-two), and in our own day the most skillful campaign in Europe
was under the direction of Von Moltke when he was in the seventieth
year of his age.
Washington took command of the Continental Army at forty-three.
Lafayette was a major-general at twenty. Nathaniel Greene was a
general officer in the military establishment of the Revolution at
thirty-three, and entered upon his memorable campaign in the South at
thirty-eight. Winfield Scott was but twenty-eight when he commanded
at Chippewa and Lundy's Lane. Macomb was thirty-two when he gained the
famous victory over Sir George Prevost at Plattsburg. Jackson was
forty-seven when he won the decisive battle over Pakenham at New
Orleans. On the other hand, Taylor was sixty-three when he conquered
at Buena Vista, and Scott was sixty-one when he made his celebrated
march from Vera Cruz to the Capital. Scott enjoys the rare distinction
of having held high and successful command in two wars which were a
full generation of men apart. In 1847 he commanded in Mexico the sons
of those officers who aided in his brilliantly successful campaign
against the British on the borders of Canada in 1814.
At the opening of the war of the Rebellion General Scott again
assumed command, but his seventy-five years pressed heavily upon him,
and he soon gave way to younger men who came rapidly forward with
patriotic ardor and with worthy ambition. Nearly all the graduates of
the United-States Military Academy who achieved distinction were in
what might be termed their middle youth; a few were in their twenties;
none were old. General Grant won his campaign of the Tennessee, and
fought the battles of Henry, Donelson, and Shiloh when he was
thirty-eight years of age. Sherman entered upon his onerous work in
the South-West when he was forty-one, and accomplished the march to
the sea when he was forty-four. Thomas began his splendid career in
Kentucky when he was forty-three, and fought the critical and
victorious battle of Nashville when he was forty-six. Sheridan was
but thirty-three when he confirmed a reputation, already enviable, by
his great campaign of 1864 in the Shenandoah Valley. Meade won the
decisive battle of Gettysburg when he was forty-seven. McClellan was
but thirty-five when he succeeded General Scott in command of the
army. McDowell was forty-five when he fought the first battle of
magnitude in the war. Buell was forty-two when he joined forces with
Grant's army on the second day's fight at Shiloh. Pope was scarcely
over forty when he attained the highest credit for his success in the
South-West. Hancock was forty-one when he approved himself one of
the most brilliant commanders in the army by his superb bearing on the
field of Spotsylvania. Hooker was forty-six when he assumed command of
the Army of the Potomac.
General Schofield was thirty-four when he commanded with signal ability
and success in the battle of Franklin. John Reynolds was forty-three
when he fell at the head of his corps in the first day's fight at
Gettysburg. Rosecrans was forty-two when he gained the important
victory at Stone River. Burnside was thirty-seven when he made the
admirable record of his North-Carolina campaign. Howard was thirty-two
when he was assigned to the command of a corps, and only a year older
when he succeeded McPherson in the command of the army of the
Tennessee. McPherson was thirty-five when he gave up his heroic life
on the bloody field before Atlanta. Slocum was thirty-eight when he
handled his division with consummate skill at White-Oak Swamp. Joseph
J. Reynolds was a major-general before he was forty. Parke was at the
head of a corps when he was thirty-five. Hazen was thirty-four when he
led in the important capture of Fort McAllister. McKenzie, Custer,
Kilpatrick, and Ames had each won his star before he had passed his
twenty-sixty hear. The only West-Point man who became conspicuous in
the command of troops after he was fifty years of age was David Hunter.
He entered upon his sixtieth year on the day of the unfortunate battle
of Bull Run, and engaged thenceforth in severe and meritorious
field-service. Montgomery C. Meigs, one of the ablest graduates of
the Military Academy, was kept from the command of troops by the
inestimably important services he performed as quartermaster-general,
in which office he succeeded Joseph E. Johnston when the latter cast
his fortunes with the Confederacy. Perhaps in the military history of
the world there was never so large an amount of money disbursed upon
the order of a single man as by the order of General Meigs. The
aggregate sum could not have less during the war than fifteen hundred
millions of dollars, accurately vouched and accounted for to the last
cent. General Meigs is still living, vigorous in mind and body, active
in good works, and enjoying the unstinted confidence and admiration of
his countrymen.
Among the officers who volunteered from civil life the success of young
men as commanders was not less marked than among the graduates of West
Point. General Logan, to whom is conceded by common consent the
leading reputation among volunteer officers, and who rose to the
command of an army, went to the field at thirty-five. General Butler
was forty-two when he was placed at the head of the Army of the Gulf,
and began his striking career in Louisiana. General Banks was
forty-four when with the rank of major-general he took command of the
Department of Maryland. Alfred Terry, since distinguished in the
regular service, achieved high rank as a volunteer at thirty-five.
Garfield was a major-general at thirty-one with brilliant promise as a
solider when he left the field to enter Congress. Frank Blair at
forty-one was a successful commander of a division in the arduous
campaign which ended with the fall of Vicksburg. Jacob D. Cox had
achieved his reputation in the field at thirty-four. Sickles was
forty-one when, desperately wounded, he was borne from the head of his
corps at Gettysburg. Cadwallader Washburn in his forty-third year was
in command of an important district in the South-West. Rawlins was
high in General Grant's confidence and favor at thirty when he filled
the important post of chief of staff. James B. Steedman was forty-four
when he received Mr. Lincoln's special encomium for bravery. Franz
Sigel was in command of a corps before he was thirty-five. Crawford
was thirty-three when his division did its noble work at Gettysburg.
Chamberlain was thirty-four when he associated his name indelibly with
the defense of Little Round-Top. Corse was but twenty-nine when he
held the pass at Altoona. Beaver was still younger when he received
his terrible wound and his promotion. Grenville Dodge had risen to the
rank of a major-general and approved his merit in the Atlanta campaign
before his was thirty-three. Hawley did splendid service in the field
at thirty-five, and rose rapidly to the rank of brigadier-general.
Gresham had made his brave record at thirty-two, and bears wounds to
attest his service. The McCooks were all young, all gallant, all
successful. Negley was a brigadier-general at thirty-two. Robert
Potter commanded a corps before he was thirty-seven. Joseph B. Carr
achieved an honorable reputation in his early thirties. Hartranft was
highly distinguished before he was thirty-seven. Nelson A. Miles left
his counting-room at twenty-one, enlisted as a private, and in two
years was a brigadier-general. Selden Connor was rewarded with the
same rank for his conduct at the battle of the Wilderness before he was
twenty-seven. Nicholas L. Anderson was under thirty when he received
his brevet of major-general for a military career worthy in all
respects of his eminent kinsman who fired the first gun in defense of
the Union. The only general of volunteers beyond fifty years of age
who acquired special distinction was James S. Wadsworth who in his
fifty-seventh year fell in one of the most sanguinary battles of the war.
The list, both of regulars and volunteers, who achieved high command
while still young, might be largely increased. The names given are
selected from a roll of honor that has never been surpassed for
gallantry of spirit and intrepidity of action in the military service
of any country,--a roll too long to have full justice done to all the
names borne upon it. Indeed, one of the obstacles to widespread
popular fame for many, was in the great number of generals who fairly
earned the laurels due to exalted heroism. In a military establishment
so vast that the major-generals number one hundred and fifty, and the
generals of brigade nearly or quite six hundred, with battles,
engagements, and skirmishes in full proportion to the force which such
a number of commanders implies, it is difficult to give even the names
of all who are worthy of lasting renown. Battles such as established
Scott's fame in the Niagara campaign, or Jackson's at New Orleans, or
Taylor's at Buena Vista, were in magnitude repeated a hundred times
during the civil conflict under commanders whose names are absolutely
forgotten by the public. A single corps of Grant's army at the
Wilderness, or of Sherman's at Atlanta, or of Meade's at Gettysburg, or
of McClellan's on the Peninsula, or of Hooker's at Chancellorsville,
contained a large number of troops than Washington or Scott ever
commanded on the field, a larger number than Taylor or Jackson ever saw
mustered. A more correct conception of the real magnitude of the Union
Army can be reached by measuring the proportions of the several
branches of the service, than by simply stating the aggregate number of
men. There were in all some seventeen hundred regiments of infantry,
over two hundred and seventy regiments of cavalry, and more than nine
hundred batteries of artillery. These numbers are without parallel
in the military history of the world.
There was a very strong and patriotic disposition to engage in the
war, on the part of the sons of the Northern statesmen who had been
prominent during the generation preceding the outbreak of hostilities.
It was no doubt felt by the juniors to be a chivalric duty to defend
on the field what had been advanced by the seniors in Congress and in
Cabinet. A very notable instance was that of the brothers Ewing,--Hugh,
Thomas, and Charles, sons of the eminent Thomas Ewing of Ohio,--each
of which attained through gradual promotion, fairly earned by
meritorious service in the field, the rank of brigadier-general. They
were all young, the eldest not being over thirty-five when he received
his commission, the youngest under thirty. Senator Fessenden of Maine
had two sons who rose to the rank of brigadier-general; a third with
the rank of captain, was killed in the second battle of Bull
Run. Vice-President Hamlin had one son who attained the rank of
brigadier-general; another who served as colonel. William H. Seward,
jun., also reached the rank of brigadier-general. William H. Harris, son
of Mr. Seward's successor in the Senate, honorably distinguished himself
in the service. Benjamin Harrison of Indiana commanded a brigade before
he was thirty, and made a military record which did honor to the
illustrious name which he inherits. Fletcher Webster lost his life
while bravely commanding a Massachusetts regiment in a war which his
illustrious father's exposition of the Constitution had served the arm
of the Government to maintain. Similar instances in the Union Army
might be cited in great number. The same disposition was manifested on
the Confederate side, and it may be said with truth that almost every
name which grew into prominence in the long political contention
between the North and the South was represented in the conflict of arms
to which it led.
That men without previous military education should prove to be
intelligent, brave, efficient, and skillful officers, was a constant
surprise to the foreign critics of our campaigns. The commanders of
batteries, of regiments, of brigades, not to speak of battalions and
companies, were almost wholly from the volunteer service. Many of the
volunteers, as already indicated, rose to the command of divisions, a
few to the command of corps, and in some marked instances to the
command of separate armies and to the military direction of vast
districts. At the same time the value of strict military training was
shown by the superior prominence attained in proportion to their
numbers by the officers who had been educated at the West Point
Military Academy. The wisdom of maintaining that institution was
abundantly vindicated by the results of the war. Its graduates worked
in harmony with the volunteers, and, as matter of fact, the field
offices they held during the war were, with few exceptions, under the
law for the organization of the volunteer forces. They imparted to the
entire army the discipline, the organization, and the efficiency of a
regular military establishment. There was naturally at the beginning
of the war a certain jealousy between the regulars and the volunteers,
but none that did not yield to the patriotism and good sense of both.
The two services were rapidly and most happily combined, and
demonstrated by their joint prowess the strength of the country for
defense, and, if need by, for offense. Without maintaining a large
military establishment, which besides its expense entails multiform
evils, it was shown that the Republic possesses in the strong arms and
patriotic hearts of its sons an unfailing source of military power.