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 bloody, 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 circumstance of glorious war." But, my son, it has never seemed to me more interesting than the passage of Thermopylæ. 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 grassy 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 Manassas, 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 têtes 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 assumed 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 masses 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 masses. 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 illustrated 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 bloody 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. These men could do good service in the field as infantry; and, in an evil hour, it was decided to send them to Grant's army for that purpose.
Then the great question arose, how were their places to be supplied? How were the forts to be defended, in case of attack, without them? It would not do to strip the defenses of all troops, and leave the forts without garrisons. If we did, the enemy would surely find it out, for Washington was full of his spies, and we should come to grief. The President, the cabinet, and all the generals, had resolved, from the first, that that this must never be done, under any contingency.
But what, at the time, was considered a happy thought, seized on the government. I have said a happy thought, my son, but it was a very unwise one. Let the future historian record it, for it is recorded in the dispatches, as well as in the acts of the government.
Yes, my son, it was resolved, first, that Richmond should fall in an hundred days, or at least during the summer; second, that to insure the fall of Richmond within that time, the experienced troops, then in the fortifications of Washington, should be sent to the Army of the Potomac; third, that to replace these and other garrisons, a call should be made on some of the States for 100,000 militiamen, to serve for one hundred days. To the end of developing this grand idea, all the old artillery regiments were sent away to Grant. And their places were filled by an equal number of "hundred days' men," nice and fresh, fresh and green, mostly from the State of Ohio.
I have no doubt, my son, that it will seem strange to you, as it will to all intelligent readers hereafter, that raw troops should have been called to defend the capital in the fourth year of a great war. But the War Department carried on the war according to this method then. The result is not just now very pleasant to contemplate; but it was what ordinary foresight might have predicted. Our error was the enemy's opportunity, and he quickly proceeded to take advantage of it. Washington was in danger, and Washington might have been captured with but little trouble had the enemy sent the right man to command his troops. How near it came being lost, and how accidentally it was saved, I shall record hereafter, for the benefit of the future historian.