to you our high appreciation of your uniform kindness in all
of your official intercourse with us, and to say to you that
although you have not been long with us, you have gained our
love, confidence, and respect; and that it was with great regret
that we heard of your being taken away from us; and in being so
taken away our confidence in you as a soldier, gentleman, and
patriot has not been in the least diminished. We part with you,
General, with the greatest regret, and hope some new field may
be given you for the display of that generalship that led us to
victory at Chickamauga.
Respectfully, your friend,
L. E. POLK,
_Brigadier-General_.
HEADQUARTERS LOWERY'S BRIGADE,
MISSION RIDGE, October 16, 1863.
_Dear General_:--Paragraph 2, Special Order No. 33, from Army
Headquarters, relieving you from duty in this department has
just been received by me. I take this opportunity to express to
you my deep regret at this change. So far as I have heard an
expression from the officers and men of this corps, your service
with us has been _most satisfactory_. In the camp and on the
march your orders were received and obeyed with the most cordial
approval and with the greatest pleasure. The warm devotion that
has been created in so short a time will not die while memory
lives. In behalf of my brigade, permit me to express our regret
on account of your separation from us, and the kindest wishes
for your prosperity and happiness. For myself the memories of
our short acquaintance will be warmly cherished in a devoted
heart of friendship, and the guidance and protection of the
Unseen Hand invoked on you wherever your lot may be cast.
May the glory of victorious fields form a wreath around your
name in all time to come, and the memory of your deeds of
gallantry and patriotism be cherished in the hearts of a
grateful and free people.
Respectfully, General, your obedient servant,
M. P. LOWERY,
_Brigadier-General_.
Long after the war General J. E. Johnston addressed the following
letter to General Hill, from which it will appear that the influence
of Bragg, who was at the elbow of the President as his military
adviser, was still omnipotent after he was transferred from the west
to Richmond:
WASHINGTON, D. C., September 22, 1887.
GENERAL D. H. HILL:
_Dear General_:--Your conduct at Yorktown and at Seven Pines
gave me an opinion (of you) which made me wish for your
assistance in every subsequent command that I had during the
war. When commanding the army of Tennessee, I applied for your
assignment to a vacancy * * * * * * * *
Yours very truly,
J. E. JOHNSTON.
It is but just to President Davis, as well as to General Hill,
to state that there was good reason to believe that the former,
in his last days, became convinced that General Hill was not the
author of the petition, or the principal promoter of the plan for
Bragg's removal, and that it dawned upon the great chieftain that
the retention of Bragg was the one mistake of his own marvelous
administration of the government of the Confederacy. When Johnston
and others criticised the President, General Hill, then editing a
magazine that was read by every Confederate, indignantly refused to
utter one reproachful word, even in his own vindication, because,
as he said, the time-servers who had turned their backs on the Lost
Cause were making him the scapegoat to bear the supposed sin of a
nation.
Misjudged, deprived of command and made to stand inactive in the
midst of the stirring scenes of the last days of the Confederacy,
Hill was not a man to sulk in his tent. Volunteering successively on
the staff of his old friends, Beauregard and Hoke, who appreciated
his advice and assistance, he showed himself ever ready to serve the
cause in any capacity.
The repeated and urgent requests of both Johnston and Beauregard
that Hill should be restored to command, resulted at last in his
assignment to duty at Charleston, from which place he fell back with
our forces to Augusta.
When the remnant of the grand army of Tennessee reached Augusta in
charge of General Stevenson, Johnston ordered Hill to assume command
and move in front of the vast and victorious hosts of Sherman.
The greeting given him by the little bands of the old legions of
Cleburne and Breckinridge now left was a fitting tribute to an old
commander whom they loved and admired. Hoping against hope, Hill was
the leader above all others to infuse new spirit into the forlorn
band devoted to this desperate duty. At every stream and on every
eminence in his native State he disputed the ground with Sherman's
vanguard till he developed a force that made it madness to contend
further. Hill's reputation as a soldier depends in nowise upon
successful running. This final retreat was the first and last in
which he took a leading part. When once more his foot was planted
upon the soil of North Carolina it was eminently fitting that he
who heard the first victorious shouts of her first regiment in the
first fight in Virginia would lead her brave sons in the last charge
of the grand army of the great West within her own borders. Again,
as in the last onset of Cox at Appomattox, North Carolina soldiers
stood the highest test of the hero by facing danger in a gallant
charge when they knew that all hope of success was gone forever.
The last years of General Hill's life were devoted to journalism and
to teaching. As the editor of _The Land We Love_, and subsequently
of _The Southern Home_, he wielded a trenchant pen and was a potent
factor in putting down the _post-bellum_ statesmen who proposed to
relegate to the shades of private life the heroes and leaders of
the Lost Cause. As a teacher, he soon placed himself in touch with
his pupils and won their love and confidence, as he did that of the
soldiers led by him to battle.
His opinions, whether upon political, religious or scientific
subjects, were always the result of thought and study, and were
expressed in terse and clear language. As a Christian, he constantly
recurred to the cardinal doctrines of Christ's divinity and His
complete atonement. He wrote two religious works which evince at
once his grace and force as a writer, and his unbounded trust in
these fundamental truths. The subject of the one was _The Sermon on
the Mount_; of the other, _The Crucifixion_.
Unmoved in the presence of danger, schooled to hide his emotion at
suffering in the critical time of battle, and forced by a sense of
duty to show his bitter scorn for cowardice and treachery, it was
the exclusive privilege of his family, his staff and his closest
friends to fathom the depths of his true nature. The soldiers who
saw him in camp or on the field could as little conceive of the
humble Christian who, in the long hours of the night, pleaded with
his God to spare their lives and save their souls, as they could
of the affectionate father, the loving husband, the sympathizing
friend, and the bountiful benefactor of the poor and helpless, known
only to the favored few. A writer who in his last days was admitted
to the inner circle of his friends, has so beautifully expressed his
idea of his true character that I cannot do better than reproduce it
as not an overdrawn picture, from the standpoint of one who served
on his staff, had free access to his home circle, and observed and
studied his motives and conduct:
"Fancy a man in whom the grim determination of a veteran warrior
is united to a gentle tenderness of manner which would not be
inappropriate to the most womanly of women; ... affix a pair of eyes
that possess the most indisputably honest and kindly expression;
animate him with a mind clear, deep, and comprehensive, and imbued
with a humor as rich as it is deep and effective; infuse man and
mind with a soul which in its lofty views compels subordination of
the material to the spiritual, and holds a supreme trust in the
wisdom and goodness of the Almighty--is zealous in the discharge of
duty, and looks with scorn on all that is mean and sinful. Add to
all these a carriage that is indomitable, and a love of truth and
honor which is sublime, and you have the earthly embodiment of D. H.
Hill."
* * * * *
General Hill, though born in South Carolina, lived most of his life
in North Carolina, the State of his adoption. In the early part of
the war, if there was any hard fighting to do, Hill usually bore the
brunt of it. He was essentially a "pounder," was utterly fearless,
believed in his cause with his whole heart, despised traitors,
and ridiculed those who sought high places as bomb-proofs. It was
this habit of thus ridiculing and condemning influential men that
occasioned his quarrel with Jefferson Davis, for many of his victims
sought to undermine the confidence of the Confederate chief in
this grim old soldier. General Joe Johnston knew him, and knew his
worth, and, when he was restored to the command of the army fighting
Sherman, he gave Hill the prominence which he deserved. Hill's
address on the "Old South," delivered in Baltimore, is one of the
best and most interesting of its kind ever published. Like Julius
Cæsar, he was a good writer as well as a good fighter.
THE OLD SOUTH.
BY D. H. HILL.
_Comrades of the Society of the Army and Navy of the Confederate
States in the State of Maryland_:
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:--Years and years ago, "the time whereof the
memory of man runneth not to the contrary," I was a subaltern
artillery officer in the United States Army. There was great
striving with the young lieutenants of that day to be stationed at
Fort McHenry, for they said that everybody in the world knew that
the most beautiful and graceful ladies in the solar system were in
the city near by. I give this as a reminiscence of the long-ago, and
not as a piece of flattery, or as an endorsement of the astronomical
opinions of the lieutenants of artillery of that prehistoric period.
But to-day, the battle-scarred veterans all over the South pay a
higher and grander tribute than that to the mere beauty and grace
of the ladies of the present generation, when they tell with
tearful eyes and husky voices of the kindness and sympathy shown
them while they were hungry, ragged, sick, and suffering prisoners
of war. In all ages of the world poetry and song have embalmed
the ministrations of mercy of the beautiful to the brave; but
these offices of charity rise into the sublime, when the gentle
ministrants receive scorn, contumely, and contempt for their
gracious deeds to the friendless, the hated and the despised. May
God bless the noble women of Baltimore forever and forever more.
But there came a time when my people owed a still deeper debt of
gratitude to your generous city. It was the time of the gentle
fanning of spring breezes, of the rustling of the new-born leaves
on the trees, of the wafting of perfumery from buds and flowers, of
the busy humming of freshly-awakened insect life, of the gladsome
singing and love-wooing of birds. The booming of cannon and the
ringing of church bells told of the rejoicing of twenty-five
millions of people over a restored Union. There was a gladness
everywhere but in the eleven States scorched and withered by the
hot blasts of war. Lee had surrendered, and sorrow had filled the
hearts of those stern warriors who had battled for four years with
the world in arms. But the grief of surrender had turned into sullen
despair, when they came back in this joyous springtime to their
suffering families to find desolation and destruction everywhere;
blackened ruins marked the sites of the stately mansions of once
lordly planters; the fields, once white with the world's greatest
staple, were now fenceless and unplowed; "the fig-tree had not
blossomed, neither was there fruit in the vine; the labor of the
olive had failed, and the fields yielded no meat; the flocks had
been cut off from the folds, and there were no herds in the stalls";
the cities were without business, trade, and commerce; and grass
was growing in the streets of the villages almost deserted of
inhabitants. "The elders had ceased from the gates, the young men
from their music (yea, the best and the bravest of them filled
bloody graves). The joy of their heart had ceased, and their dances
had been turned into mourning. The crown had fallen from the head of
their beautiful Southland, and the Lord of Hosts had seemed to cover
himself with a thick cloud so that the prayers of widows and orphans
could not pass through."
It was at this time, when our whole people were shrouded with a
pall of gloom and anguish, and absolute starvation was imminent in
many places, that the generous heart of your city throbbed with
one simultaneous pulsation of pity. Then both sexes, all classes
and conditions, friends and foes alike, forgetting political and
sectional differences, vied with one another in sending relief to
the afflicted South.
In the name of my countrymen, thus rescued from despair and death,
I invoke the blessings of Almighty God upon the heads of their
deliverers, whatever be their religious creed or political faith;
whatever be the skies of their nativity or their opinion of the
righteousness or unrighteousness of the Southern cause.
My subject is the Old South; the Old South of pure women and
brave men; the South of Washington and Jefferson; of Carroll and
Rutledge; of Marshall and Taney; of the Pinckneys of Maryland
and South Carolina (for they were of the same stock); of Andrew
Jackson and Winfield Scott; of Decatur, Mcdonough, and Tattnall;
the generous Old South, which, rich, prosperous, and peaceful under
British domination, cried "The cause of Boston is the cause of us
all," and had her sons slain and her land desolated in defense of
her Northern sister; the magnanimous Old South, which, without ships
and commerce, hoisted in 1812, in the interest of the carrying
trade, the banner inscribed "_Free Trade and Sailors' Rights_"; the
chivalrous Old South, crying out in the person of Randolph Ridgeley,
when Charley May was about trying the novel experiment of a charge
of cavalry upon a battery of Mexican artillery, "Hold on, Charley,
till I draw their fire upon myself." Ah! my countrymen, that Old
South did many unselfish deeds which, in the slang of the day,
"didn't pay." But the world was made purer, nobler, and better by
them, and they should be as ointment poured forth, fragrant through
all the ages.
Christopher Columbus has justly been considered mankind's greatest
benefactor, and surely no one ever did great deeds under more
adverse circumstances. Crowned heads had tantalized him with hope
but to baffle his expectations; jealous courtiers sneered at him;
men of science called him a dreamer and a madman; his own sailors
were insubordinate and mutinous. Through it all, this wonderful man
had borne himself grandly, never losing heart or hope until success
had crowned his efforts. The fame won by Columbus stimulated the
enterprise of the world for the next three hundred and fifty years,
until all the highways and byways of the ocean had been thoroughly
explored, and all its creeks, bays, and estuaries had been
thoroughly surveyed. Then discoveries ceased, and it was said that
there were no more continents, no more islands, no more coral reefs,
no more sand-bars to be found in all the wide waste of waters.
This lull in discovery continued until 1868, when an enterprising
brother from somewhere north of Mason and Dixon's line announced to
the startled world that he had discovered a hitherto unknown region
of vast extent, with fertile soil, varied and wonderful products,
the loveliest scenery and the finest climate on the globe--cities,
towns, villages, and a vast rural population--all speaking the
English language, though it was not told whether they were Christian
or heathen. The great navigator had called his discovery the New
World, and other navigators had called theirs New Caledonia, New
Zealand, New Britain, New Hebrides, New Holland, etc.; this land
navigator, of the year of grace 1868, called his discovery the "New
South." The thing stranger to me than even finding this hitherto
unknown land is that the English-speaking race discovered there have
adopted the name given them, are proud of it, brag about it, and
roll it as a sweet morsel under their tongues. All other barbarians
have resented the name imposed upon them by their discoverers,
and have clung to their old names, their old ideas, and their old
traditions.
It will be my business at this time to speak to you, Veterans of
this Association, of the Old South for which we fought, and for
which so many of our comrades, as dear to us as our own heart's
blood, laid down their precious lives. I would tell you, young
people, of that dear Old South which has passed away, that you may
admire and imitate whatever was grand and noble in its history and
reject whatever was wrong and defective.
Dr. Channing, of Boston, one of the ablest and fairest of the many
gifted men of the North, said more than forty years ago, that the
great passion of the South was for political power and the great
passion of the North was for wealth. I quote his words: "The South
has abler politicians than the North, and almost necessarily so,
because its opulent class makes politics the business of life....
In the South, an unnatural state of things turns men's thoughts to
political ascendency, but in the Free States men think little of
it. Prosperity is the goal for which they toil perseveringly from
morning until night. Even the political partisan among us (the
Northern people) has an eye to property and seeks office as the
best, perhaps the only way, of subsistence."
This was a frank confession from a Northern scholar and thinker,
that Northern politicians sought office with an eye to property
and subsistence, while ambitious Southerners sought for place
and power from love of political supremacy. Now, the motive of
the latter class was not good, but these lovers of high position
did have a restraining influence upon the lovers of money. The
scandals that have brought shame upon the American name occurred
when the Old South was out of power. Who has not heard of the Credit
Mobilier swindle, in which high government officers, Senators and
Representatives, were implicated? Then there were frauds known as
Emma Mine stock, Seneca Stone contract, Whiskey Ring swindles,
Pacific Mail subsidies, sales of Sutlers' Posts, steals of
Government lands, "back salary" grabs, Star Route robberies, etc.,
etc. When Southern statesmen had a controlling influence these
knaveries were unknown, because they were impossible. No official
from the Old South, whether in Cabinet, Congress, Foreign Mission
or public position of any kind, was ever charged with roguery. No
great statesman of that period ever corruptly made money out of his
office. Calhoun, Clay, and Webster were comparatively poor. Some
of our greatest Presidents were almost paupers, notably Jefferson,
Monroe, and Harrison.
Dr. Channing gave the distinction between the North and the South
with great candor and fairness. But we might still inquire: Why
did the North seek property, and why did the South seek political
supremacy, as the chief good? The reason of the differences between
the two sections seems to me perfectly plain. It was not a race
difference between the two peoples, for they were of the same blood
and the same speech. The ambition of each section as to the avenues
in which it should seek its own self-aggrandizement was determined
by its surroundings. The Northern States of the old thirteen had
magnificent bays and harbors, but a bleak, inhospitable climate, in
which African slaves could not thrive, and a soil not adapted to
producing the things which the world specially needed. The people
of that region then freed or sold into the South the negroes whom
they had brought from Africa and whom they found to be unprofitable
slaves in their latitude. Naturally, these Northerners turned away
from unremunerative agriculture to the wealth-giving sea and became
the boldest and hardiest navigators the world had ever seen; but
with all their courage, pluck, and energy they were averse to war
and personal conflicts as interfering with the peaceful gains of
trade. They were too busy to be turbulent. They put thousands of
ships upon the ocean as fishing-smacks, whalers, and merchantmen.
Their shipping interest called for great centers of trade and for
foundries and machine-shops. They built great cities and huge
dock-yards; they opened vast mines and established rich factories.
They became a money-getting people from the situation in which their
surroundings had placed them. Anglo-Saxon energy and indomitable
will had made them masters of whatever was at first unfavorable in
their situation.
The South had but few ports, and these were in unhealthy places; it
had a climate well suited to the African, and a soil well adapted to
produce those things which the world most needed. Hence the people
of the Old South maintained slavery and devoted themselves almost
exclusively to agriculture. They built no great cities, for they
had no trade; they developed no mines and erected no factories, for
their laborers were better at field work than at anything else.
The Southern men of property went to the country and became feudal
lords of black retainers, the best fed, the best clothed, the
gayest, happiest, healthiest, strongest serfs the world had ever
seen. The towns and villages at the South were shackly, mostly with
unpaved and unlighted streets. The rural mansions were spacious and
comfortable, seldom grand or elegant. An agricultural people are
seldom rich and the profuse hospitality of the Southern planter kept
him generally straitened in his means. The Old South labored under
a more serious disadvantage; there were few literary and scientific
men among them. History shows that the great men of the world have
been born chiefly in the country, and that they gained distinction,
not there, but in cities and towns. The fire may be hid in a flint
for countless ages, and the spark only be given out when the flint
is struck by the steel. So the intellectual giants reared in the
free, fresh air of the country have only given out their grand
thoughts under the influence of other minds in populous places.