Siege of Washington, D.C., written expressly for little people

by F. Colburn Adams

But before I proceed further, my son, I must instruct you as to what happened in the Shenandoah Valley just about this time, and which, of right, should constitute a part of the siege of Washington. The troops in the valley had been commanded by no less than four unfortunate generals. Patterson, Banks, Milroy, and Siegel, the last from Germany. Of the many misfortunes of these generals, the historian who comes after me will give you a more enlarged account than I have time or space to do at present. Heaven knows, they were manifold.

When, then, Grant moved against the enemy with the Army of the Potomac, General Franz Siegel was put at the head of a column at Winchester, and marched up the valley with a great flourish of trumpets. This German general was in high feather then, and declared he would drive the rebels before him, like so many chickens, and never stop until he got them all cooped up in Richmond. But the rebels were not inclined to submit to this cooping process. Indeed, they soon discovered that this General Franz Siegel was not so much of a general after all, and that he had an eccentric way of moving his troops. So when he had driven them, as he supposed, to Newmarket, they turned upon him in a very angry manner, gave him battle, defeated him, and forced him back in disorder. This was unfortunate for Siegel, and more unfortunate for his German admirers, who declared him to be the greatest general of modern times. But he had fought this battle so badly that the government for once made up its mind that it would be wisdom not to let him try his hand at another.

Major-General David Hunter was fixed upon as the right man to reform Siegel's disordered army and correct his mistakes. Hunter had patriotism enough, and no man doubted his courage. He was earnest in the defense of right, even zealous in the cause of his country, and quick in the punishment of traitors, with whom he was not in very high favor. The general took command of this disordered army, and so managed as to get a little discipline and some degree of order into it. Now, it has always seemed to me, my son, that you could put a general to no more severe trial than to place him at the head of an army demoralized by the inefficiency of his predecessor and expect him to fight battles and gain victories. And yet General Hunter did this and to the satisfaction of the country. Had he been less active with the torch, his reward in history would have been much higher.

Well, my son, the general marched with his army, and reorganized it as he marched. And he met the enemy, and he fought him, and fought him well, and whipped him well, and drove him back up the valley, to the very gates of Lynchburg. But there, my son, he stopped. His supplies had given out, and the enemy had detached a large force, and sent it to reinforce the rebel army at Lynchburg. Our great Chief of Staff at Washington had promised that this should not be done, without timely notice being sent to Hunter. But it was done, and done without any notice being sent by the Chief of Staff, whose spies were found wanting when most needed. General Sheridan, too, was detached from the Army of the Potomac with two brigades of cavalry, and sent to form a junction with and succor Hunter. But the Chief of Staff failed to send Hunter any information concerning this movement, and hence Hunter was kept in ignorance of its design. Sheridan was driven back before superior numbers, and failed to carry out the plan of his instructions. Had Hunter received information of this movement, he would not only have saved Sheridan from defeat, but, having formed a junction with him near Charlottesville, could leave beaten the enemy and gone where he pleased. So much for what the Chief of Staff ought to have done but did not do.

Of course the gates of Lynchburg were swung wide open, and there was nothing for the famous Early, who commanded the rebel hosts, to do, but to come out and brush Hunter away from before them. And he did this, and more than this. He cut Hunter's communications, and sent him flying over a different road, to the Ohio River, in search of supplies.

And it was now, my son, that the veritable Jubal, known to his old classmates at West Point as the late Mr. Early, saw the road open, and the great prize before him. Scorning, as it were, to pursue Hunter, he marched directly for Washington by the most direct road.

It was early in July, then, when General Early, at the head of his rebel hosts, reached and crossed the Potomac. And this movement sent the people of Washington into a state of great alarm. The southern sympathizers at the capital were in high feather at the prospect of Washington being captured by their friends, the rebels. Magnificent stories were set afloat, the government got into a state of great confusion, and timid people went about shaking their heads, and wondering what the War Department was doing. Everybody wanted to do something, and yet nobody knew what to do. The Chief of Staff sat in his easy chair, and issued orders by the dozen. The Secretary of War ran about excited, and issued orders that conflicted with everybody else's orders. The President, not to be behind either of them, issued orders that agreed with none of them. The great wonder is, that some one of these high officials, so much given to issuing war orders, did not issue a proclamation, warning Mr. Early that it would not be comfortable for him to bring his rebels this way.

I am not prepared to say what effect such a notice would have had on Mr. Early, who turned his column in this direction, and, marching with great rapidity, was in a few days on the banks of the Monocacy. And, as if to increase our alarm, he sent that festive young trooper, Harry Gilmore, galloping down into Maryland, where his old friends received him with open arms, and entertained him sumptuously. Never was hero so entertained by his friends. And when this bold trooper had enjoyed the trip, and shared the hospitality of his friends as much as pleased him, he went to work disturbing our military arrangements. Yes, my son, he captured one of our railroad trains on its way to New York, and all the passengers in it. And, what was worse than all, there was one of our most distinguished major-generals in it, and he was made a prisoner of war by this bold trooper. Thus he cut our communication with the North. He did all this, and walked away leisurely and unmolested. Although his Maryland friends set him up for a great hero, I confess, as there was no one to oppose him, not to see in what his heroism consisted.

As you may naturally suppose, my son, these little affairs increased our alarm greatly. Our authorities, generally, went into a state of perspiration; and would have sent for General Grant and his army to come back and protect us, but for the fear that that general would not read the order correctly. In short, they had already become convinced that Grant was not the man to turn back when there was anything to be made by going ahead. Then our high officials called on the North for help, but called in vain. The North was not inclined to share the fears of our high officials, and had been too often sent for to come and take care of Washington.

It was common with us, then, to keep a lot of third-rate troops scattered around Baltimore; and over Maryland. These were hastily got together, and placed under the command of that famous warrior Lew Wallace. The administration was sure, now, that Mr. Early would get whipped, and that the capital would be saved. There were, however, a few unbelieving people who shook their heads, and were heard to say that General Wallace was not the soldier to drive Mr. Early and his men into the Potomac.