Then General George formed his army in line on the plains of Antietam, and a great and b.l.o.o.d.y battle was fought, and the rebel army beaten and put to flight. Pay no heed, my son, to what the prejudiced may say of this battle. It was one of the greatest battles fought during the war. All honor to the brave soldiers who fought it. Our troops, too, were handled with great skill, and the world never saw better generalship than our George displayed. Yes, my son, Antietam was our Waterloo, fought at a time when the nation needed a victory most; and the general who fought it ought never to be forgotten by his country. When, then, George had gained this victory for us, had beaten and driven the enemy from all his positions, and caused the nation to rejoice, he halted to give his brave soldiers rest and repair damages. His losses were great, and he had compa.s.sion on his soldiers, for many of them were without shoes and had little raiment. In truth, my son, these brave, abused, and war-worn soldiers had only the well-worn shoes and clothes they had made the campaign of the Peninsula in.

George pleaded the necessity of his soldiers as a reason for his delay, and very justly. But this pleased neither the government nor the politicians whose bitterest prejudices seemed to control it.

These gentlemen urged that he follow the enemy at once and capture him, a piece of strategy not so easily accomplished as many think.

In short, we were in no position to follow the enemy until we got shoes and raiment for our brave soldiers. Nor could we have added much to our success by following General Lee and his men, who had an open country before them, until we were well prepared to engage them in another battle. When, however, George got his army ready, he moved directly on the enemy, and his soldiers were in the best of spirits, for we had got General Lee and his men in a position where he would be compelled to fight another battle, with the advantages in our favor. Now I don't say, my son, that George would have won this battle, but by fighting it he would have exposed the enemy's real weakness, and placed him in a very bad position. But the government, as if more willing to promote the prejudices of politicians than to preserve the honor of our arms, resolved not to let George fight another battle. Yes, my son, it removed him from his command, and that, too, when he was close up with the enemy, and was expecting every day to engage him in battle. I do not remember that history records another instance where the commander of an army, that had just gained a great victory, was so disgraced by his own government.

The enemy could not have inflicted a more severe blow on our brave army than was done by this act of our own government. A feeling of disappointment and sorrow ran through the ranks, and the brave men who had fought under and loved their commander, wept at the injustice that took him away from them. It will, in time, be made clear, my son, that the government committed a great crime against our army by this act. It cannot be wisdom to remove a commander, so popular with his army as George B. McClellan was, especially when that army was on the eve of a battle. Such an act is sure to excite dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction destroys discipline. Nor should such a commander be removed at so critical a time unless the government were prepared to fill his place with one of equal, if not superior capacity. A general, to hope for success, must have the confidence and respect of his troops. To remove one who has, and fill his place with one who has not, is a crime than which none can be greater. It is a crime against the brave men whose lives are at the risk of the capacity of their commander. Our government committed this crime when it gave the command of the army of the Potomac to General Burnside. That general was the best judge of what he could do, and freely confessed his incapacity for so high a command. But the government was not to be put off by this confession of weakness on the part of a general, preferring to reward him for his honesty, and make no account of his capacity. I accept this, my son, as the only reason why General Burnside was given so high a command. As for his capacity as a general, he gave us a proof of that when he let the rebels fall back, and get well fortified at Fredericksburg. To show, however, what a general could do by attempting impossibilities, he sent the brave army of the Potomac to be slaughtered by an enemy covered with stone walls. I tell you, my son, it was a dark day for the nation when that was done. It multiplied our misfortunes, gave a deeper wound to our grief and sorrow, and brought disgrace on our arms.

I will pa.s.s over these misfortunes as lightly, my son, as possible, hoping only that they will serve us as a warning in the future.

Having buried Burnside deep under the misfortunes of his own incapacity, the question again came up, where shall we find a general to do up these rebels for us, and gain us a little victory?

The great Grant was doing wonders for us in the West. He was bold, earnest, and brave. And this was the secret of his success. But in the East we were sorely troubled for some one who could do something.

General Hooker was brave and bold. But, my son, he had such a weakness for blowing his own trumpet. Yes, he could blow it as loud and as long as any trumpeter you ever listened to--Pope excepted. He had declared of himself that he was just the man to lead our army to victory, and give the enemy a sound thrashing. It was true, this general had been very insubordinate. He had said a number of things, neither wise nor polite, of his superiors. And he had set an example to his soldiers not inclined to improve their discipline. As, however, he had declared himself the man to lead our army to victory, and the government wanted just such a man, it took the general at his word, and gave him the command.

There were some people, my son, unkind enough to say, and say boldly, that the government did this strange act more to show its appreciation of insubordination than out of respect to his capacity to discharge successfully the duties of his high position. When, however, the general had talked himself into the very best opinion of himself, he went to work nursing his grand army into good order.

Yes, my son, the old army of the Potomac was a grand army, and General Hooker declared it was the finest on the face of the globe.

And he nursed it into good order on the left bank of the Rappahannock, from December, 1862, to early April, 1863. The general could get up of a morning, and enjoy a look at his old friend Lee, quietly domiciled on the opposite bank. And General Lee could get up of a morning, and do the same. Both generals regarded this as a very harmless and pleasant way of spending the winter, while carrying on the war. They would, at times, it is true, exchange compliments of a belligerent nature. But this was only to give a lively turn to the state of affairs around Fredericksburg. They were, I can a.s.sure you, my son, not intended to harm any one.

CHAPTER IX.

CHANCELLORVILLE, AND THE CURIOUS FIGHT WE HAD THERE.

I AM sure my friends will all be anxious to see a portrait of the great general who fought the great battle of Chancellorville. And my artist has been particularly careful to present them with a good one.

Chancellorville was a strangely fought battle, my son; I have various good reasons for saying this, but, perhaps, it is best that as little as possible be said concerning them.

When spring came, and the roads were dry, and the robins had begun to sing in the trees, and the buds to put forth, General Hooker began to feel strong, and full of battle. He said to his officers that they must get their courage up, and be ready for a big fight, every one in his own way. And to his men he said, that they must have plenty of powder in their pouches, and not be afraid to use it.

A general to be successful, my son, must have confidence in himself.

General Hooker had confidence in himself, and felt that he could whip the rebels out of their boots any fine morning. Hence it was, that feeling in a fighting humor one morning in early April, he picked up his army, and, crossing the stream, went in pursuit of the enemy. He found the enemy posted in the woods near Chancellorville, where he engaged him in a fierce and desperate battle. But the general's plan, if he had any, soon got out of his head, and it became apparent that he was fighting the battle in so strange a manner that no one could understand it. In truth, the general set aside the established rules of war early in the battle, and went back to first principles. These give every man the right to fight in his own way, and is beautifully ill.u.s.trated in an army fighting without orders. I am told, my son, on very good authority, that these "first principles," as applied to fighting battles, never were better developed than at Chancellorville. I am afraid, my son, we shall never get a complete and accurate history of that extraordinary battle, for the reason that no historian will be found capable of describing it. It is certain that the battle had not raged long when our army was in a state of uncertainty and confusion. Sometimes the fight was between different brigades or divisions of our own troops, who were as often brought face to face.

The enemy liked this, for it helped him to fight the battle without reinforcements, and saved him a deal of trouble and loss. When we had got a great many men killed in this way, and a great many more severely hurt, the great question arose as to who had won the battle, and who got whipped. There can be little doubt as to the impression made on General Lee's mind on this point. General Hooker was sure he had gained a great victory, and yet he was not so sure.

I say he was not so sure, since he found it necessary, before settling the question, to withdraw his army to his old quarters on the other side of the river. It is clear that the general's reflections would be less disturbed in his old quarters, and, with a river separating him from the enemy, he could form a more correct judgment as to whether he had beaten the enemy, or the enemy had beaten him. Feeling, however, that it would not do to let it get out that the enemy had beaten him, he resolved that it must be true that he had beaten the enemy. This was about the most accommodating settlement he could arrive at. But, accepting this in good faith, I never could see the necessity for our haste to get back to our old quarters on the hills, notwithstanding the general's friends said it looked like rain, and he was anxious to get his army over before the shower came on. I have noticed, also, that the rebel army, when beaten, generally fell back in the direction of Richmond. In this instance, however, he held his positions, beat his drums, blew his horns, fluttered his flags, and was altogether the most defiant of vanquished enemies. I noticed, also, that this vanquished enemy packed his knapsacks, put his ammunition in order, and marched off, not backwards, in the direction of Richmond, but forward, in the direction of the North.

Yes, my son, the enemy marched defiantly into Pennsylvania, and sent the peaceable Dutchmen in that remote part of the country into a state of great alarm. And this I accept as the best proof that the rebels were not beaten at Chancellorville. I am sure, also, that General Hooker had sufficient reason to share this opinion with me.

He always had the rebels just where he wanted them, and yet I observed that he failed to bring them to a stand before they got on the free soil of Pennsylvania. Every honest Dutchman in the State was convinced in his own mind that General Hooker, if he had been the general he ought to be, should have driven the enemy into some remote corner of Virginia, and kept him there.

The military atmosphere was still full of confusion and uncertainty.

And things seemed getting worse every day. Strange as it may seem, the government continued making extensive efforts to further the object of the rebel general. Fortunately for the nation, our wise rulers waked up one morning fully convinced that General Lee was in earnest, that he was already on the free soil of a northern State, with a favorable prospect for making a settlement there. The government also suddenly discovered that General Hooker, although a brave soldier and all that, was not the man to command a great army.

So the government relieved him and sent him into elegant retirement, a custom very common at that time.

Then the government appointed General Meade to the command of the grand old army of the Potomac. Of this general little had been known. Still, the nation felt relieved at the change. Now, General Meade was a polished gentleman, a brave and good soldier, who had fought on the Peninsula under McClellan and commanded the Pennsylvania Reserves. To place a new general in command of an army at a time when that army is in face of the enemy and expects every minute to engage him in battle, is one of the most dangerous experiments a government can indulge in. It is also one well calculated to test to their utmost the qualities of the general placed so suddenly in command.

It was the 1st of July, 1863, General Meade took command of the Army of the Potomac, and posted it in order of battle on the hills and plains around Gettysburg. There the two armies stood, the Union and the Rebel, than whom there was none braver, awaiting for the signal for the clash of arms. Then a great battle began and lasted three days. And there was desperate fighting and great valor displayed on both sides, and the field was strewn with the dead and wounded. And the battle of Gettysburg was a great battle, and the Union army of patriots gained a great and glorious victory over the rebels. Yes, my son, and what was more, we celebrated it on the 4th of July. And the people of the North were glad of heart, and rejoiced exceedingly, and sang praises to General Meade, for he had fought the battle well and won his country's grat.i.tude.

Still, my son, we hesitated, and failed to take advantage of our success. In truth, we let the rebel army re-cross the Potomac at its leisure, although we might have given it serious trouble had we pressed it at once. Indeed, there were a great number of people who expected General Meade to either drive the rebel army into the Potomac or capture it. But military men know that capturing a large army, though it may have been beaten in battle, is not so easy a matter. And even a victorious army, after fighting so great a battle, needs rest and time to improve its shattered condition.

CHAPTER X.

HANGING IN THE BALANCE.

HERE, my son, is an exact portrait of the general who fought the great battle of Gettysburg. When he had rested his army a sufficient time he began moving in pursuit of the enemy. The rebel general fell back into old Virginia, taking his time as he went along, and being in no temper to hasten his steps. In short, we followed him back timidly to Orange Court House, where he made a settlement for the winter. There was a good deal of small fighting done during the autumn and winter, but neither side seemed to gain any advantage.

The fate of war hung in the balance. If we gained an advantage one day, the enemy would do something to offset it on the next. This state of things was a source of great grief to the nation. The people wanted something more positive for the great amount of life and treasure they were wasting. They called for more earnestness and more resolution on the part of our generals, and a better system of carrying on the war on the part of the authorities at Washington.

So, my son, the people's impatience was at length heeded, and when spring came (I mean the spring of 1864), and the people were weary of the war, and demanded a change in the policy of conducting it, so that an end be put to it as speedily as possible, the government began to wake up to its duty. We had fought battles for two years and hung the nation in mourning, and still Washington was as often in danger as Richmond. Indeed, the fortune of war seemed in favor of Richmond. Then the government began to see that if we would gain victories our armies must be commanded by soldiers, not politicians.

Yes, my son, the people were excited to joy when the government changed its military policy, and the great General Grant was brought to Washington and placed in command of all our armies. The sun of our hopes brightened then, for the people had confidence in that general. He had whipped the rebels so well for us in the West, and he had gained for us so many glorious victories.

And now, my son, we come to this remarkable siege of Washington. I say remarkable, for it is destined to stand on the pages of military history without anything to compare with it. Not that it was as b.l.o.o.d.y, or that the city was as obstinately attacked and defended as heroically, as some other cities that have been besieged, in ancient as well as modern times. But you must know that sieges, like battles, derive their great importance and all that makes them remembered hereafter, not so much from the amount of blood that has been shed during them, not so much from the impetuosity of the attacks made or the heroic defences, as from the manner in which they affect the fate of nations. Some sieges are remarkable for one thing, some another. The siege of Washington was more remarkable for the manner in which the city was defended than the manner in which it was attacked. No fields were fertilized with carnage, nor banners bathed in blood.

You, remember, my son, the tale of storied Troy, with all its "pomp and circ.u.mstance of glorious war." But, my son, it has never seemed to me more interesting than the pa.s.sage of Thermopyl'. Nor will Agamemnon live in history after Leonidas is forgotten. And yet these events in ancient war were small compared with the battles our Grant fought. His deeds will brighten as you read of them in history, and become greater than them all.

And now, my son, let us hie to the siege of Washington. Washington was besieged and Washington was saved; and the history of its salvation must not perish. Rome, you know, was saved by the cackling of a goose. And when I tell you that Washington, the capital city of this great nation was saved by the too free use of a barrel of whisky, you must not be surprised. When its great circle of fortifications, now bristling with cannon, and filled with busy soldiers, shall become so many gra.s.sy mounds, their history must still live to excite the patriotism of those who come after us.

Remember, my son, that had Washington fallen the nation had perished. To this remarkable siege, then, and its results, let all the succeeding glories of this great Republic be attributed.

As I have told you before, my son, after the first battle of Mana.s.sas, when our militia did such good running, there was nothing to prevent the rebels from entering and capturing it but the few hastily constructed forts, or ttes de pont, on the Virginia side.

Nor could these have offered any resistance worth naming. Our demoralized troops, however, never halted until they got safe inside of them. And but for these forts, weak as they were, the city would have fallen. When General McClellan a.s.sumed command, he saw at once the necessity of properly fortifying the city. And the nation ought never to forget him for his decision. Experienced engineers, with large gangs of laborers, were set to work throwing up these huge ma.s.ses of earthwork. To this was added the labor of a large number of the troops of the Army of the Potomac, during its organization in the autumn and winter of 1861 and 1862. When, therefore, the army moved for the Peninsula in the spring of 1862, the city was so strongly fortified that it was considered safe by General McClellan and his corps commanders. That is, my son, if its forts were properly garrisoned, and there was a working force of forty thousand men. But nothing was safe against the fears of a timid administration.

But forts, my son, however strong, are only inert ma.s.ses. They cannot fight themselves; and to give them strength and action they require to be properly and fully garrisoned. And the troops in them require to be properly instructed in all their duties. Now, my son, it was a question with the government, which was very timid at that time, whether General George had left, in and around Washington, a force sufficient to make the city perfectly safe when he started on his memorable campaign. It is the opinion of nearly all our best military men that he did. But the politicians got frightened, the government got frightened, and the political generals got frightened. And all the frightened people got their heads together; and they made the President and Secretary of War believe just as they believed--that Washington had been "unarmed," and that Washington was in danger. Yes, my son, our good-hearted President, who was no coward, was sorely troubled about the safety of Washington. And his Secretary of War was also much troubled, as was common with him on the appearance of danger. And the "Chief of Staff" was also in trouble, and went to issuing orders, of a memorable kind, few of which were understood, much less obeyed. The result of all this was that there was great conflict of action. I have no better name to call it by, my son. Hence it was, my son, that our good President halted McDowell, and McDowell's corps. And both looked on from a distance while General George was fighting desperate battles with the enemy. This was the way the War Department carried on the war at that time. Now, my son, it is my purpose to so instruct you that you will know the whole truth concerning the way the war was carried on.

The detention of General McDowell and his corps, while it ill.u.s.trated the great anxiety of the President and Secretary of War for the safety of Washington, caused the failure of the campaign on the Peninsula. All the sophistry in the world, my son, cannot change that decision.

General George, with his army, was driven to the James River, and as the enemy, then at Richmond, was between him and General Pope, and might strike either at his pleasure, the government's fears about Washington so increased that General George was finally recalled from the James, to save the capital. The result was, as I have told you before, that General Pope was driven back with the wreck of his army to the very gates of the capital, and General George arrived barely in time to save it. Yes, my son, General George, not only so saved the capital, but extricated the government and the Chief of Staff out of the difficulties they had brought on themselves.

When, then, the victorious rebel army turned aside from the fortifications of Washington, and marched triumphantly into Maryland, strong garrisons were left in the forts, and more troops were poured into the city to insure its safety. It was, indeed, resolved by the government, which began now to profit by experience, and by the fact that the capital of the nation had twice been placed in extreme peril, that for the future, come what might, it should at least be made secure. Experienced officers of rank were placed in command of the defenses, north as well as south of the Potomac. The troops were drilled constantly, and soon became good artillerists.

They were also instructed in and soon became efficient in the art of defending forts. They studied well, and became familiar with the ground in their front; and, what was more than all, they knew their guns, and how to fight them. I have been very particular concerning these things, my son, because I desire to impress you with their future importance.

But alas for the instability of human resolutions! Washington was to be exposed, after all.

You will remember, my son, how everybody was seized with admiration at the ease with which the great General Grant picked up the Army of the Potomac, and moved off with it against the rebels. That was in the month of May, 1864. It was then that the army moved against Richmond for the last time: that is, not to return to us until it had captured that rebel stronghold.

Grant had not gone far when he met a more stubborn resistance than he had expected, fought a number of desperate and b.l.o.o.d.y battles, and lost a great many men. Fight and move forward, was his motto, so he resolved not to turn his face towards Washington and his back towards Richmond, as others had done before him. The terrible waste of human life that followed his battles, found him in want of recruits. No reserves of any consequence had been organized, and the government were sorely troubled to find men to fill the thinned ranks of our heroic army. Where were these men to be got from in time to be of service?

Think of it, my son, we had 25,000 instructed artillerists in the forts around Washington. Here was a temptation hard to be resisted.