CHAPTER III.
CONCERNING THE DISTINGUISHED OFFICER WHO BUILT THE FORTS.
I HAVE thought it no more than right, my son, to present you with a pleasant, but very exact picture of the distinguished officer of engineers, to whose skill we are indebted for the forts that more than once saved Washington. I do this out of respect to the truth of history, and from an apprehension that there are others, perhaps, higher in rank, who may lay claim to the honor, at some future day. I have also presented you with a more extended and complete portrait of him in the frontispiece of this work. He appears here in his usually calm, meditative mood, with his pipe and Professor Mahan's last great work on fortifications. He is, I must tell you, my son, a man of large brain, and generous nature, fond of his joke, and very fertile in the art of rearing earthworks. In figure he is Falstaffian, and when on his rounds among the fortifications wears immense canvas-legged boots, and a hat with a high crown and extremely broad brim. Indeed, his figure is what may be called formidable, and there would be no mistaking him were you to meet him on the road. And, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, and his scrupulous regard for the rights of others, the farmers round about Washington regard him with fear and trembling. In short, my son, his approach near a farm house is sure to send all the children scampering with fear. And even the curs and other domestic animals, seem to have an instinctive knowledge that his visits portend no good to their master's domicil. It is curious to see those domestic animals how they bark and snap, and then shrink away at his approach, uttering signs of their dislike. In truth, my son, he has a bad reputation among these worthy farmers, whose farms he quietly takes possession of, and then indulges in his favorite amusement of building forts on them. In this way many an honest farmer has suddenly found himself dispossessed of his property, and his means of getting an honest living; thereby bringing great distress on his family. To remonstrate would be useless. He must submit to the fate of war, and look to Heaven for redress. Now it is by no means pleasant for a quietly-disposed farmer to have his home turned suddenly into a fortress, and his acres made a camping ground for soldiers, who are not the most desirable guests, even under the best of circumstances. But the farmer lays all his sorrows at the door of our distinguished engineer, forgetting that he is only carrying out the orders of his superiors. Thus it was that he got a bad reputation, just as General Gilmore got a bad reputation with the people of Charleston, and South Carolina generally, for throwing shells into their city.
While, then, our distinguished engineer progressed in his work of building forts, with a view to saving the city, the people of the North, and the people of the great West, seeing that war was upon us in all its stern reality, were much agitated as to what was best to be done. They were a peaceable, prospering people, and much attached to the Government that had conferred so many blessings on them. But the fire of their patriotism had already been kindled; and they went wisely to work adding fuel to it. The trumpet of war had sounded over the land, their gallant militiamen came together, boldly and earnestly. And these they sent to Washington, by regiments, to quiet the fears of the people, and save the nation.
Now these gallant militiamen were very full of courage, and their courage increased as their numbers multiplied in the capital, and they sent word to Mr. Beauregard and his men that they would be out there soon and thrash him out of Manassas. Some of these gallant men came for thirty days, others for ninety, our wise rulers being satisfied in their own mind that the latter number of days would be quite enough to finish up the small job of putting down the rebellion. These militiamen wore gay and many-colored uniforms, and had the fat of the land for rations. They were the nation's favored guests, and every man was set down for a gentleman and a hero, who would as soon shed his blood for his country as eat his breakfast. And these gallant militiamen were organized into a grand army, so full of pomp and circumstance, that we were sure the enemy would run away as soon as he saw it coming. But in order to make the thing safe beyond peradventure, we gave the command of this grand army to General McDowell, a man of solid parts, a gentleman, and a soldier. Our wise political rulers at that time held to the idea that a gentleman who had seen service must be a great general. Hence it was that General McDowell, being a gentleman and a scholar, and ready enough to square his political sentiments with the predominant ideas, was accepted as just the soldier who would lead our gallant militiamen to victory, and never think of running from the enemy. Indeed, according to our military politicians, we were to get no end of glory through General McDowell's success. And Mr. Beauregard was to be driven back to his master, bag and baggage.