A VISIT TO SHERIDAN IN THE VALLEY.

Mr. Dana carries to Sheridan his major-general's commission—A ride through the Army of the Shenandoah—The affection of Sheridan's soldiers for the general—How he explained it—His ideas about personal courage in battle—The War Department and the railroads—How the department worked for Lincoln's re-election—Election night of November, 1864—Lincoln reads aloud passages from Petroleum V. Nasby while the returns from the States come in.

It was just after the arrest of the Baltimore merchants, in October, 1864, that I visited Sheridan at his headquarters in the Shenandoah Valley. He had finished the work of clearing out the valley by the battle of Cedar Creek on October 19th, and the Government wanted to recognize the victory by promoting him to the rank of major general in the regular army. There were numerous volunteer officers who were also officers in the regular army, and it was regarded as a considerable distinction. The appointment was made, and then, as an additional compliment to General Sheridan, instead of sending him the commission by an ordinary officer from the department, Mr. Stanton decided that I would better deliver it. I started on October 22d, going by special train to Harper's Ferry, whither I telegraphed for an escort to be ready for me. I was delayed so that I did not get started from Harper's Ferry until about five o'clock on the morning of October 23d. It was a distance of about fifty miles to Sheridan, and by riding all day I got there about eleven o'clock at night. Sheridan had gone to bed, but in time of war one never delays in carrying out orders, whatever their nature. The general was awakened, and soon was out of his tent; and there, by the flare of an army torch and in the presence of a few sleepy aides-de-camp and of my own tired escort, I presented to Sheridan his commission as major general in the regular army.

Sheridan did not say much in reply to my little speech, nor could he have been expected to under the circumstances, though he showed lively satisfaction in the Government's appreciation of his services, and spoke most heartily, I remember, of the manner in which the administration had always supported him.

The morning after this little ceremony, when we had finished our breakfast, the general asked me if I would not like to ride through the army with him. It was exactly what I did want to do, and we were soon on horseback and off, accompanied by four of his officers. We rode through the entire army that morning, dismounting now and then to give me an opportunity to pay my respects to several officers whom I knew. I was struck, in riding through the lines, by the universal demonstration of personal affection for Sheridan. Everybody seemed personally to be attached to him. He was like the most popular man after an election—the whole force everywhere honored him. Finally I said to the general: "I wish you would explain one thing to me. Here I find all these people of every rank—generals, sergeants, corporals, and private soldiers; in fact, everybody—manifesting a personal affection for you that I have never seen in any other army, not even in the Army of the Tennessee for Grant. I have never seen anything like it. Tell me what is the reason?"

"Mr. Dana," said he, "I long ago made up my mind that it was not a good plan to fight battles with paper orders—that is, for the commander to stand on a hill in the rear and send his aides-de-camp with written orders to the different commanders. My practice has always been to fight in the front rank."

"Well," said I, "General, that is dangerous; in the front rank a man is much more liable to be killed than he is in the rear."

"Well," said he, "I know that there is a certain risk in it; but, in my judgment, the advantage is much greater than the risk, and I have come to the conclusion that that is the right thing to do. That is the reason the men like me. They know that when the hard pinch comes I am exposed just as much as any of them."

"But are you never afraid?" I asked.

"If I was I should not be ashamed of it," he said. "If I should follow my natural impulse, I should run away always at the beginning of the danger; the men who say they are never afraid in a battle do not tell the truth."

I talked a great deal with Sheridan and his officers while at Cedar Creek on the condition of the valley, and as to what should be done to hold it. The active campaign seemed to be over in this region for that year. The enemy were so decidedly beaten and scattered, and driven so far to the south, that they could scarcely be expected to collect their forces for another attempt during the season. Besides, the devastation of the valley, extending as it did for a distance of about one hundred miles, rendered it almost impossible that either the Confederates or our own forces should make a new campaign in that territory. It looked to me as if, when Sheridan had completed the same process down the valley to the vicinity of the Potomac, and when the stores of forage which were yet to be found were all destroyed or removed, the difficulty of any new offensive operations on either side would be greatly increased.

The key to the Shenandoah Valley was, in Sheridan's judgment, the line of the Opequan Creek, which was rather a deep cañon than an ordinary watercourse. Sheridan's idea I understood to be to fall back to the proper defensive point upon that creek, and there to construct fortifications which would effectually cover the approach to the Potomac.

I left Sheridan at Cedar Creek, and went back to Washington by way of Manassas Gap.

All through the fall of 1864 and the following winter I remained in Washington, very much occupied with the regular routine business of the department and various matters of incidental interest. Some of these incidents I shall group together here, without strict regard to sequence.

An important part of the work of the department was in relation to the railroads and to railroad transportation. Sometimes it was a whole army corps to be moved. At another time the demand would be equally sudden and urgent, if less vital to the Union cause. I remember particularly the great turkey movement in November of that year. The presidential election was hardly over before the people of the North began to prepare Thanksgiving boxes for the army. George Bliss, Jr., of New York, telegraphed me, on November 16th, that they had twenty thousand turkeys ready in that city to send to the front; and the next day, fearing, I suppose, that that wasn't enough, he wired: "It would be a very great convenience in our turkey business if I could know definitely the approximate number of men in each of armies of Potomac, James, and Shenandoah, respectively."

From Philadelphia I received a message asking for transportation to Sheridan's army for "boxes containing four thousand turkeys, and Heaven knows what else, as a Thanksgiving dinner for the brave fellows." And so it was from all over the country. The North not only poured out food and clothing generously for our own men, but, when Savannah was entered by Sherman, great quantities of provisions were sent there for gratuitous distribution, and when Charleston fell every effort was made to relieve destitution.

A couple of months later, in January, 1865, a piece of work not so different from the "turkey business," but on a rather larger scale, fell to me. This was the transfer of the Twenty-third Army Corps, commanded by Major-General John M. Schofield, from its position on the Tennessee River to Chesapeake Bay. There being no prospect of a winter campaign under Thomas, Grant had ordered the corps transferred as quickly as possible, and Mr. Stanton turned over the direction to me. On January 10th I telegraphed to Grant at City Point the plan to be followed. This, briefly, was to send Colonel Lewis B. Parsons, chief of railroad and river transportation, to the West to take charge of the corps. I proposed to move the whole body by boats to Parkersburg if navigation allowed, and thence by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad to Annapolis, for I remembered well with what promptness and success Hooker's forces, the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps, were moved into Tennessee in 1863 by that road. A capital advantage of that line was that it avoided all large towns—and the temptations of large towns were bad for the soldiers in transit. If the Ohio River should be frozen, I proposed to move the corps by rail from Cairo, Evansville, and Jeffersonville to Parkersburg or Bellaire, according to circumstances.

Commanders in the vicinity of the corps were advised of the change, and ordered to prepare steamboats and transports. Loyal officers of railroads were requested to meet Colonel Parsons at given points to arrange for the concentration of rolling stock in case the river could not be used. Liquor shops were ordered closed along the route, and arrangements were made for the comfort of the troops by supplying to them, as often as once in every hundred miles of travel, an abundance of hot coffee in addition to their rations.

Colonel Parsons proceeded at once to Louisville, where he arrived on the 13th. By the morning of the 18th he had started the first division from the mouth of the Tennessee up the Ohio, and had transportation ready for the rest of the corps. He then hurried to Cincinnati, where, as the river was too full of ice to permit a further transfer by water, he loaded about three thousand men on the cars waiting there and started them eastward. The rest of the corps rapidly followed. In spite of fogs and ice on the river, and broken rails and machinery on the railroads, the entire army corps was encamped on the banks of the Potomac on February 2d.

The distance over which the corps was transported was nearly fourteen hundred miles, about equally divided between land and water. The average time of transportation, from the embarkment on the Tennessee to the arrival on the banks of the Potomac, did not exceed eleven days; and what was still more important was the fact that during the whole movement not a single accident happened causing loss of life, limb, or property, except in a single instance where a soldier improperly jumped from the car, under apprehension of danger, and thus lost his life. Had he remained quiet, he would have been as safe as were his comrades of the same car.

Much of the success of the movement was due to the hearty co-operation of J. W. Garrett, president of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Colonel Parsons did not say too much when he wrote, in his report of the transfer of Schofield's troops:

The circumstances, I think, render it not invidious that I should especially refer to the management of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, where indomitable will, energy, and superior ability have been so often and so conspicuously manifested, and where such invaluable service has been rendered to the Government; a road nearly four hundred miles in length, so often broken and apparently destroyed, so constantly subjected to rebel incursions, that, had it been under ordinary management, it would long since have ceased operation; yet, notwithstanding all the difficulties of the severe winter season, the great disorganization of employees necessarily incident to a road thus situated, its most extraordinary curves, grades, bridges, tunnels, and the mountain heights it scales, it has moved this large force in the shortest possible time, with almost the exactness and regularity of ordinary passenger trains, and with a freedom from accident that, I think, has seldom, if ever, been paralleled.

At the end of the war, when the department's energies were devoted to getting itself as quickly and as thoroughly as possible upon a peace footing, it fell to me to examine the condition of the numerous railroads which the Government had seized and used in the time of active military operations, and to recommend what was to be done with them. This readjustment was not the least difficult of the complicated questions of disarmament. The Government had spent millions of dollars on improvements to some of these military railroads while operating them. My report was not finished till late in May, 1865, and as it contains much out-of-the-way information on the subject, and has never been published, I introduce it here in full:

Washington City, May 29, 1865.

Hon. Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War.

Sir: I have the honor to report that I have examined the subject of the disposition to be made of the railroads in the States lately in rebellion, referred to me in connection with the report of the quartermaster general, and the rules which he has recommended to be established. The second rule proposed by the quartermaster general provides that no charge shall be made against a railroad for expense of materials or expense of operation while it has been in the hands of the military authorities of the United States. In other words, he proposes to restore every railroad to its claimants without any special consideration from them for any improvements which the United States may have made upon it.

It is true in his fourth rule he includes past expenditures of defense and repair as an equivalent for the use of the road while it has been in the public service, but in many cases this does not appear to me to be sufficient. Our expenditures upon some of these roads have been very heavy. For instance, we have added to the value of the road from Nashville to Chattanooga at least a million and a half dollars. When that road was recaptured from the public enemy it was in a very bad state of repair. Its embankments were in many places partially washed away, its iron was what is known as the U rail, and was laid in the defective old-fashioned manner, upon longitudinal sleepers, without cross ties. These sleepers were also in a state of partial decay, so that trains could not be run with speed or safety. All these defects have now been remedied. The roadbed has been placed in first-rate condition. The iron is now a heavy T rail, laid in new iron the entire length of the line. Extensive repair shops have also been erected, well furnished with the necessary tools and machinery. I do not conceive that it would be just or advisable to restore this road, with its improved tracks and these costly shops, without any equivalent for the great value of these improvements other than the use we have made of it since its recapture. The fact that we have replaced the heavy and expensive bridges over Elk, Duck, and Tennessee Rivers, and over Running Water Creek, should also not be forgotten in deciding this question.

The above general remarks are also applicable to that portion of the Orange and Alexandria Railroad between the Potomac and the Rapidan. Very extensive repair shops have been erected at Alexandria, and furnished with costly machinery for the use of the road, and I understand that the iron and the roadbed are now much better than when the Government began to use it.

The same is still more the case with the road between City Point and Petersburg. When that road was recaptured from the public enemy not only was the roadbed a good deal washed away and damaged, but neither rails nor sound ties were left upon it. Now it is in the best possible condition. Can any one contend that it ought to be restored to its claimants without charge for the new ties and iron?

The case of the railroad from Harper's Ferry to Winchester is no less striking. It was a very poor road before the war, and was early demolished by the rebels. Not a pound of iron, not a sound tie, was to be found upon the line when we began its reconstruction in December last. We have spent about five hundred thousand dollars in bringing it to its present condition, and I have no doubt our improvements could be sold for that sum to the Baltimore and Ohio Company should they obtain the title to the roadbed from the proper authorities of Virginia. Why, then, should we give them up for nothing?

On the Morehead City and Goldsboro' Railroad we have rebuilt twenty-seven miles of the track, and furnished it with new iron and laid new ties on many miles more since February last. These views also hold good, unless I am misinformed, with regard to the railroad leading into New Orleans, the Memphis and Little Rock Railroad, the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, and the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. They have all been improved at great expense while in our hands.

In the third rule proposed by the quartermaster general it is provided that all materials for permanent way used in the repair and construction of any road, and all damaged material of this class which may be left along its route, having been thrown there during operation of destruction and repair, shall be considered as part of the road, and given up with it also without compensation. If this means to give up any new iron that we have on the line of any road, it seems to me to concede to the parties to whom the roads are to be surrendered more than they have a right to claim. For instance, there is now lying at Alexandria, on the line of the Orange and Alexandria road, iron sufficient to lay thirty miles of track. It seems manifest to me that this iron should not be surrendered to the road without being paid for. In my judgment it is also advisable to establish the principle that the Government will not pay for the damages done any road in the prosecution of hostilities, any more than it will pay for similar damages done by the enemy. With these exceptions, the principles proposed by the quartermaster general appear to be correct.

In accordance with these observations, I would recommend that the following rules be determined upon to govern the settlement of these matters:

1. The United States will, as soon as it can dispense with military occupation and control of any road of which the Quartermaster's Department is in charge, turn it over to the parties asking to receive it who may appear to have the best claim, and be able to operate it in such a manner as to secure the speedy movement of all military stores and troops, the quartermaster general, upon the advice of the commander of the department, to determine when this can be done, subject to the approval of the Secretary of War.

2. Where any State has a loyal board of works, or other executive officers charged with the supervision of railroads, such road shall be turned over to such board of officers rather than to any corporations or private parties.

3. When any railroad shall be so turned over, a board of appraisers shall be appointed, who shall estimate and determine the value of any improvements which may have been made by the United States, either in the road itself or in its repair shop and permanent machinery, and the amount of such improvements shall be a lien upon the road.

4. The parties to whom the road is turned over shall have the option of purchasing at their value any tools, iron, or any other materials for permanent way which have been provided by the United States for the improvement of the road and have not been used.

5. All other movable property, including rolling stock of all kinds, the property of the United States, to be sold at auction, after full public notice, to the highest bidder.

6. All rolling stock and materials of railroads captured by the forces of the United States, and not consumed, destroyed, or permanently fixed elsewhere—as, for instance, when captured iron has been laid upon other roads—shall be placed at the disposal of the roads which originally owned them, and shall be given up to these roads as soon as it can be spared and they appear by proper agents authorized to receive it.

7. No payment or credit shall be given to any railroad recaptured from the enemy for its occupation or use by the United States to take possession of it, but its capture and restoration shall be considered a sufficient consideration for all such use; nor shall any indemnity be paid for injuries done to the property of any road by the forces of the United States during the continuance of the war.

8. Roads which have not been operated by the United States Quartermaster's Department not to be interfered with unless under military necessity; such roads to be left in the possession of such persons as may now have possession, subject only to the removal of every agent, director, president, superintendent, or operative who has not taken the oath of allegiance to the United States.

9. When superintendents in actual possession decline to take the oath, some competent person shall be appointed as receiver of the road, who will administer its affairs and account for its receipts to the board of directors, who may be formally recognized as the legal and formal board of managers, the receiver to be appointed by the Treasury Department, as in the case of abandoned property.

I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

C. A. Dana,

Assistant Secretary of War.

These recommendations were carried out partly in the transfer, which was practically complete by the end of 1865. The department decided upon a somewhat more liberal policy than I had thought justifiable. The roads and bridges were transferred practically in the same condition as they were in at the time of transfer. It was believed that this generosity would react favorably upon the revenue and credit of the nation, and there is no doubt that it did have a good influence.

During the presidential campaign of 1864, which resulted in Lincoln's re-election and in the further prosecution of the war upon the lines of Lincoln's policy, we were busy in the department arranging for soldiers to go home to vote, and also for the taking of ballots in the army. There was a constant succession of telegrams from all parts of the country requesting that leave of absence be extended to this or that officer, in order that his district at home might have the benefit of his vote and political influence. Furloughs were asked for private soldiers whose presence in close districts was deemed of especial importance, and there was a widespread demand that men on detached service and convalescents in hospitals be sent home.

All the power and influence of the War Department, then something enormous from the vast expenditure and extensive relations of the war, was employed to secure the re-election of Mr. Lincoln. The political struggle was most intense, and the interest taken in it, both in the White House and in the War Department, was almost painful. After the arduous toil of the canvass, there was naturally a great suspense of feeling until the result of the voting should be ascertained. On November 8th, election day, I went over to the War Department about half past eight o'clock in the evening, and found the President and Mr. Stanton together in the Secretary's office. General Eckert, who then had charge of the telegraph department of the War Office, was coming in constantly with telegrams containing election returns. Mr. Stanton would read them, and the President would look at them and comment upon them. Presently there came a lull in the returns, and Mr. Lincoln called me to a place by his side.

"Dana," said he, "have you ever read any of the writings of Petroleum V. Nasby?"

"No, sir," I said; "I have only looked at some of them, and they seemed to be quite funny."

"Well," said he, "let me read you a specimen"; and, pulling out a thin yellow-covered pamphlet from his breast pocket, he began to read aloud. Mr. Stanton viewed these proceedings with great impatience, as I could see, but Mr. Lincoln paid no attention to that. He would read a page or a story, pause to consider a new election telegram, and then open the book again and go ahead with a new passage. Finally, Mr. Chase came in, and presently somebody else, and then the reading was interrupted.

Mr. Stanton went to the door and beckoned me into the next room. I shall never forget the fire of his indignation at what seemed to him to be mere nonsense. The idea that when the safety of the republic was thus at issue, when the control of an empire was to be determined by a few figures brought in by the telegraph, the leader, the man most deeply concerned, not merely for himself but for his country, could turn aside to read such balderdash and to laugh at such frivolous jests was, to his mind, repugnant, even damnable. He could not understand, apparently, that it was by the relief which these jests afforded to the strain of mind under which Lincoln had so long been living, and to the natural gloom of a melancholy and desponding temperament—this was Mr. Lincoln's prevailing characteristic—that the safety and sanity of his intelligence were maintained and preserved.

[CHAPTER XIX.]