THE FORTUNES OF WAR.
With the war came the army correspondents. Dickens had previously
introduced Martin Chuzzlewit to "our war correspondent, sir, Mr.
Jefferson Brick," several years previously, but the warlike
experiences of the redoubtable Mr. Brick were of a purely sedentary
character, and his epistles were written at the home office. But
Washington was now invaded by a corps of quick-witted, plucky young
fellows, able to endure fatigue, brave enough to be under fire,
and sufficiently well educated to enable them to dash off a
grammatical and picturesque description of a skirmish.
Occasionally, one of them, by eulogizing a general in command, was
enabled to go to the front as a gentleman, but generally they were
proscribed and hunted out from camps like spies. Secretary Stanton
bullied them, established a censorship at Washington, and occasionally
imprisoned one, or stopped the publication of the paper with which
he corresponded. Halleck denounced them as "unauthorized hangers-
on," who should be compelled to work on the entrenchments if they
did not leave his lines. General Meade was unnecessarily severe
in his treatment of correspondents whose letters were not agreeable
to him, although they contained "the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth." The result was that the correspondents
were forced to hover around the rear of the armies, gathering up
such information as they could, and then ride in haste to the
nearest available telegraph station to send off their news. There
were honorable and talented exceptions, but the majority of those
who called themselves "war correspondents" were mere news-
scavengers.
The Washington press was despotically governed during the war.
The established censorship was under the direction of men wholly
unqualified, and on several occasions the printed editions of
influential journals--Republican or Democratic--were seized by
Secretary Stanton for having published intelligence which he thought
should have been suppressed. Bulletins were issued by the War
Department, but they were often incorrect. It was known that the
Washington papers, full of military information, were forwarded
through the lines daily, yet the censors would not permit paragraphs
clipped from those papers to be telegraphed to Boston or Chicago,
where they could not appear sooner than they did in the Richmond
papers. The declaration, "I am a newspaper correspondent," which
had in former years carried with it the imposing force of the
famous, "I am a Roman citizen," no longer entitled one to the same
proud prerogatives, and journalists were regarded as spies and
sneaks.
Colonel John W. Forney, Secretary of the United States Senate and
editor of the Philadelphia _Press_, established the _Sunday Chronicle_
at Washington, and in time made it the _Daily Chronicle_. When in
Washington, he was constantly dictating letters for the _Press_
and editorials for the _Chronicle_. When in Philadelphia, he
dictated editorials for the _Press_ and letters for the _Chronicle_.
Each paper copied his letters from the other. When in New York,
he dictated editorial letters to his papers alternately, and they
were signed "J. W. F." His Washington letters to the _Press_ and
his Philadelphia letters to the _Chronicle_ were signed, "Occasional,"
though the most remarkable thing about them was their regularity.
The Washington _Chronicle_ received editorial and other contributions
from some of the ablest writers in the country. Editorials on
foreign topics were supplied by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, of the
Philadelphia _Press_. Robert J. Walker wrote a series of powerful
articles on the desirableness of Secretary Seward's pet project,
the acquisition of Alaska, and Caleb Cushing was a frequent editorial
contributor. It had a large circulation, the Army of the Potomac
taking ten thousand copies a day, and the lucrative advertising of
the Department was given to it.
Independence Day, 1862, was not joyously celebrated at Washington.
The martial pageant with which the day had been glorified in years
past had been replaced by the stern realities of war, and the
hospitals were crowded with the sick, the wounded, and the dying.
The week previous General McClellan, after a campaign of great
severity in the Peninsula, and having been in sight of Richmond,
had been so crippled by the failure of Secretary Stanton to send
him more troops that he had been forced to retreat from Chickahominy,
and seek the shelter of the gunboats on the River James. The
President, at the request of the Governors of the loyal States,
promptly called into the service an additional force of three
hundred thousand men. Those who had advocated the arming of the
negroes availed themselves of the occasion to urge their enlistment;
but the Secretary of War, in conversation with conservatives,
opposed it. Mr. Mallory, of Kentucky, stated on the floor of the
House (and his statement was never contradicted) that, having
business at the War Department, Mr. Stanton called him back, and,
folding over the date and signature of a letter, showed him that
an officer had asked authority to raise a regiment of blacks. The
Secretary inquired what answer ought to be given, to which he
(Mallory) replied, "If you allow me to dictate an answer, I would
say, emphatically, No!" The Secretary rejoined that he had not
only done that, but had ordered the officer's arrest.
The people responded gloriously to the demand for more troops, and
by the middle of August, 1862, they were pouring into Washington
at the rate of a brigade a day. The regiments, on their arrival,
were marched past the White House, singing, "We are coming, Father
Abraham, three hundred thousand more." And "Father Abraham" often
kindled their highest enthusiasm by coming to the front entrance
and in person reviewing the passing hosts. The troops then crossed
the Potomac, where the hills were whitened with the tents of camps
of instruction, where an army of reserves was soon produced. Mr.
Greeley, however, was not satisfied with the military preparations,
and he published an insolent letter to President Lincoln, in which
he charged him with being "disastrously remiss in enforcing the
laws." Mr. Lincoln replied, calmly but positively: "I would save
the Union. I would save it in the shortest way, under the
Constitution. If I could save the Union without freeing any slaves
I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I
would do it, and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving
others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery and
the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union,
and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would
help to save the Union. I shall do less whenever I shall believe
that what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever
I believe doing more will help the cause. I shall try to correct
errors when shown to be errors, and I shall adopt new views so fast
as they shall appear to be true views."
President Lincoln finally found that he could not sustain General
McClellan any longer, and offered General Burnside the command of
the Army of the Potomac, which was promptly and peremptorily
declined. General McClellan was soon virtually deposed, and General
Halleck placed in command, while a large portion of the Army of
the Potomac was organized as the Army of Virginia, and placed under
the command of Major-General John Pope, who boasted that he was
fresh from a campaign in the West, where he had "seen only the
backs of rebels." The result was that the new commander was not
cordially supported, and the Army of Virginia was wrecked beyond
compare, and driven back upon Washington, which was threatened by
the victorious Confederates.
General Burnside was, for the second time, invited to take command,
but he refused, urging President Lincoln to restore General McClellan.
This was undoubtedly the wish of a large majority of the surviving
officers and soldiers, and of many leading members of Congress and
journalists. The recall of General McClellan to command, and his
victory at Antietam, were like a romance. Sitting one day in his
tent near Alexandria, with only his body-guard of a hundred men
under his command, he was called to save the capital from the vast
hosts of enemies that were pouring on it in resistless columns.
To save his native State from the invasion that threatened it, and
Maryland from the grasp of a soldiery that would wrest it from the
Union, he was offered an army shattered by disaster, and legions
of new recruits who had never handled a musket or heard the sound
of a hostile cannon. The responsibility was greater than had ever
been reposed on the shoulders of one man since the days of Washington.
With a rapidity never equaled in history, he gathered together the
army, arranged its forces, made up his corps, chose his generals,
and sent them in vigorous pursuit, through Washington and on
northward.
The enemy had crossed into Maryland, and were having a triumphant
march through that State toward the Pennsylvania line. They issued
a sounding proclamation to the people, offering them what they
called liberty from oppression, and they acted out the theory of
their mad invasion, which was that they were victors and had come
to reap, on loyal grounds, the fruit of their victories.
On Sunday the gallant men of the Union Army were on them. They
were swept over the South Mountains with the besom of destruction.
On Monday, astonished to meet McClellan, when they had expected to
meet those whom they less feared, they called their hosts over the
Potomac and prepared for battle. McClellan had previously arranged
his strategic plans, and these undoubtedly would have resulted
differently but for the inexplicable surrender of Harper's Ferry,
leaving our army with little hope of cutting off the retreat of
the enemy.
On Tuesday and Wednesday McClellan engaged them in a long and
furious contest, the night of Wednesday closing in on them defeated,
dispirited, and broken; and when Thursday morning showed the
disposition of our army, and the inevitable defeat that awaited
them, they left the field, abandoned their wounded, and fled into
Virginia, pursued and routed by the army of the Union. Having
gloriously performed this great work, General McClellan's stubborn
inaction returned, and President Lincoln determined to place General
Burnside in command of the Army of the Potomac.
General Burnside reluctantly accepted the command when it was for
the third time tendered him, and lost no time in putting its
divisions in motion for a rapid advance upon Fredericksburg. Had
he found the pontoon train there, as he had expected, he could have
thrown a heavy force across the Rappahannock before the enemy could
have concentrated to resist his crossing, and he then could have
commenced an active, vigorous campaign against Richmond. But before
the pontoons had arrived the Confederates had strengthened their
forces, and the result was two unsuccessful attacks, with a large
loss of men. The country howled with wrath against the Washington
officials, who had delayed sending the pontoons, but General Burnside
stood up squarely and said, in his open, honest manner, "For the
failure in the attack I am responsible."
Learning that Generals Hooker, Newton, Franklin, Cochrane, and
others had been intriguing against him and urging his dismissal,
General Burnside promptly issued an order dismissing them from the
service of the Union. President Lincoln would not consent to this
and permit the dismissal of these demoralized officers, whose
partisan prejudices had overshadowed their loyalty to their commander.
General Burnside then resigned, General Hooker was appointed his
successor, and the Army of the Potomac went into winter quarters
on the north bank of the Rappahannock.
[Facsimile]
A.E.Burnside
AMBROSE EVERETT BURNSIDE was born at Liberty, Indiana, May 23d,
1824; graduated at West Point in 1847; served in the Mexican and
Indian Wars, and in the War for the Suppression of the Rebellion;
was Governor of Rhode Island, 1866-1868; was United States Senator
from March 4th, 1875, until his death at his residence in Bristol,
Rhode Island, September 13th, 1881.