THE ARRIVAL IN WASHINGTON
There was little about Washington in 1862 to indicate that a great war
was raging. The reference in the previous chapter to the "thunder of
Burnside's guns" was figurative only. No guns were heard. It was Sunday
morning. Church bells pealed out the call for divine worship and streams
of well-dressed people were wending their way to the sanctuaries. The
presence of uniformed troops in such a scene appeared incongruous, and
was the only thing that spoke of war, if we except the white tents and
hospital buildings that abounded on every side.
Rest was welcomed after the long jaunt by rail, and the day was given up
to it, except for the necessary work of drawing and issuing rations. It
was historic ground, made doubly so by the events then transpiring. Few
realized, however, that we actually were engaged in making the history
of the most eventful epoch in the career of the Republic, and the chief
interest of the place seemed to lie in its associations with the past.
The Capitol, with its great unfinished dome, towered above us. The White
House, the Treasury building, the Patent office, Arlington, the former
home of the Lees, Long bridge, Pennsylvania avenue, the Smithsonian
institute, the tree where Sickles killed Key. These and other points of
interest were quickly seen or visited.
And the Washington of 1862 was a very different city to the Washington
of recent years. Where now are broad avenues of concrete pavement, were
then wide streets of mud, through which teams of army mules, hauling
heavy wagons, tugged and floundered. A dirty canal, full of foul smells,
traversed the city where now are paved streets and fine buildings. Where
then were waste places, now are lovely parks, adorned with statues. Rows
of stately trees fringe the avenues, and green lawns dot the landscape,
where in 1862 was a vast military camp, full of hospitals and squalid in
appearance. The man who saw Washington then and returns to it for the
first time, would be as much astonished as was Aladdin at the creations
of his wonderful lamp. Certain salient features remain, but there has
been on the whole a magical change.
Camp was pitched on Meridian Hill, well out on Fourteenth street, near
Columbia college, then used for a hospital, and preparations were made
to spend the winter there. The Fifth Michigan, which had reached
Washington before us, was located on "Capitol Hill," at the opposite end
of the city. We had a fine campground, stretching from Fourteenth street
through to Seventh, well adapted to drill and parade purposes.
A few days after their arrival in Washington, the officers of the Sixth,
under the escort of Congressman Kellogg, went in a body to pay their
respects to President Lincoln, several members of the cabinet and the
general of the army. Full dress was the proper "caper," they were told,
and accordingly they were arrayed in their finest. The uniforms were new
and there is no doubt that they were a gorgeous looking party as they
marched up Pennsylvania avenue wearing shining brasses, bright red
sashes, buff gauntlets, and sabres glittering in their scabbards. Mr.
Kellogg pronounced the "Open Sesame" which caused the doors of the White
House to open and secured admission to the presence of the President.
After being ushered into the "Blue Parlor" we were kept waiting for some
time. Expectancy was on tip-toe, for few if any of the officers had seen
Mr. Lincoln. But no introduction was needed when the door opened and the
President stood before us. That was to me a memorable moment, for it was
the first and last time that I saw Abraham Lincoln. There was no
mistaking the tall, gaunt figure, the thin, care-worn face, the slovenly
gait, as he entered the room. In appearance he was almost as unique as
his place in history is unexampled. But spare, haggard and bent as he
looked, he was yet a strikingly handsome man, for there was on his brow
the stamp of greatness. We saw him as in a halo, and looked beyond the
plain lineaments and habiliments of the man to the ideal figure of the
statesman and president, struggling for the freedom of his country and
the unity of his race, whom we all saw in the "Railsplitter" from
Illinois; and he seemed, in his absent-minded way, to be looking beyond
those present to the infinite realm of responsibility and care in which
he dwelt.
It is the misfortune of Lincoln that his portraits have not been
idealized like those of Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, and
Washington. It remains for some great artist, inspired by the nobility
of his subject, to make those homely features so transparent that his
reverent and grateful countrymen may look through them and see a
presentment of the great soul and beautiful character that irradiated
and glorified them in his life, and which will grow brighter and more
lovely as the fugitive ages glide away.
The officers were introduced, one by one, and Mr. Lincoln gave each hand
a shake as he uttered a perfunctory, but kindly, "How do you do?" and
then turned quickly toward the door, as though his mind was still on the
work which he had left in order to grant the interview, which must have
trenched sadly upon his time.
But he was not to escape so easily, for the Congressman, rising to the
occasion, said:
"Mr. President, these are the officers of a regiment of cavalry who have
just come from my state of Michigan. They are 'Wolverines' and are on
the track of 'Jeb' Stuart, whom they propose to pursue and capture if
there is any virtue in a name."
"Gentlemen," said the President, with a twinkle of the eye, and the
first and only indication of humor that he gave, "I can assure you that
it would give me much greater pleasure to see 'Jeb Stuart' in captivity
than it has given me to see you," and with a bow and smile he vanished.
Although we remained in Washington for about two months, I did not see
him again. He never saw "Jeb Stuart" in captivity, but it was in a fight
with the Michigan cavalry brigade that the dashing raider was killed. So
the remark of the Congressman was not such an idle boast, after all.
When the Seventh Michigan arrived it was put in camp on the Seventh
street side. Colonel J.T. Copeland, of the Fifth Michigan, was promoted
to brigadier general of volunteers and assigned to the command of the
three regiments. The brigade was attached to the division of General
Silas Casey, all under General S.P. Heintzelman, who was in charge of
the Department of Washington, with headquarters in the city. Freeman
Norvell succeeded Copeland as colonel of the Fifth. The department
extended out into Virginia as far as Fairfax Court House, and there was
a cordon of troops entirely around the city.
The prospect was that the brigade would see little, if any fighting, for
a time, as it was not to be sent on to the army at Falmouth. The work of
drilling and disciplining went on without relaxation throughout the
winter months, and when arms were issued, it was found, to the delight
of all concerned, that we were to have repeating rifles.
The muskets or rifles issued to the United States infantry, during the
civil war, were inferior weapons, and a brigade of Michigan militia of
the present period would make short work of a military force of equal
numbers so armed. It is one of the strange things about that war that
the ordnance department did not anticipate the Austrians, Germans and
French, in the employment of the fire-arm loaded at the breech which was
so effective in the Franco-Prussian conflict and, if I am not mistaken,
in the war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, also. This made of the
individual soldier a host in himself. The old muzzle-loader, with its
ramrod and dilatory "motions," ought to have been obsolete long before
Grant left the West to lead the Army of the Potomac from the Wilderness
to Appomattox. The Michigan cavalry brigade, armed as it was with
repeating carbines, was never whipped when it had a chance to use them.
In arming the infantry the government was fifty years behind the times.
Possibly the same thing might be said truthfully of the artillery also,
though the union artillerists, notwithstanding the handicap, did such
effective work as would have delighted the "Little Corporal," himself.
The "Spencer" rifle was an invention brought to the notice of the
Ordnance Department about that time. Among the numerous "charges"
brought against James G. Blaine was one that he was interested in the
manufacture of this arm and in the contract for furnishing it to the
government. How much truth there may have been in the assertion I do not
know, but if Mr. Blaine was instrumental in bringing about the adoption
of the "Spencer" for the use of the Federal cavalry, he ought to have
had a vote of thanks by Congress, for a better gun had never been
issued, and if the entire army had been supplied with it the war could
not have lasted ninety days and Mr. Seward would have been a prophet.
The "Spencer" was a magazine gun carrying eight cartridges, all of which
could be discharged without taking the arm from the shoulder. It was
loaded at the breech and the act of throwing out an empty shell replaced
it with a fresh cartridge. Against such arms the old-fashioned
muzzle-loaders, with which the infantry was equipped, were ineffective.
The Michigan men were fortunate in being among the very first to receive
these repeating rifles which, after the first year in the field, were
exchanged for the carbine of the same make, a lighter arm and better
adapted for the use of cavalry.