Border and Bastille

by George A. Lawrence

At the most critical moment, Fighting Joe seems to have been afflicted with the fatal indecision, by no means incompatible with perfect physical fearlessness, which has ruined wiser plans than ever were moulded in his brain. Rumor hints broadly at a sudden fit of depression, not unnatural in one notoriously addicted to the use of stimulants; but this is, probably, the ill-natured invention of an enemy.

At all such seasons, some subordinate must needs lift some of the dishonor from the shoulders of the chief. The non-arrival of reinforcements is much the easiest way of accounting for a foiled combination. The rout of Howard's corps was not to be considered, as it happened under the General's own eye: so Sedgwick was, by some, made the Grouchy of the day: but he seems to have fought his division as well as any of his fellows, and it was probably a superior force that checked his advance towards the main army, and eventually hurled him back upon the Rappahannock.

Perhaps the Confederate organs do not greatly exaggerate, when they claim Chancellorville as the victory of this war: though there is a fearful counterpoise in the loss of the South's favorite leader. But the great Army of the Potomac, in its shameful retreat, could not console itself by the boast of having done to death the terrible enemy, at whose name they had learnt to tremble. A miserable mistake (so the Richmond papers say) slew Stonewall Jackson, in the crisis of victory, with a Confederate bullet, as he was reconnoitering with his staff in front of his line.

Surely it is glory, sufficient for any one of woman born, that the news of his death should have sent a start and a shiver through thirty millions of hearts. I subjoin a funeral notice, which utters very simply and strongly the feeling of the country that the stern, pure soldier served so well: but a strange honor and respect attaches to his memory amongst those whom in life he never ceased to disquiet. Even the rabid Republican journalists rejoice—not coarsely or ungenerously—speaking with bated tones, as is fit and natural in presence of a good man's corpse.

Let us return to our poor Hooker, who is sitting now, somewhat gloomily, in the shade. Human nature can spare so little sympathy for braggarts in disaster, that we may possibly have been too hard on his demerits. In this respect the Grim old Fighting Cox (as the historian of the Mackerel Brigade calls him) is absolutely incorrigible. Conceive a General—on the very morning after the reverse was consummated—proclaiming to his soldiers "that they had added to the laurels already won by the Army of the Potomac!" If a succession of defeats are equal to one victory—on the principle of two negatives making an affirmative—or if nothing added to a cipher brings out a substantial product, there may possibly be something in these words beyond the desperation of bombast, otherwise——

But, in justice to Joseph, let us ask—Are the materials at his command, or at that of any Federal commander, really so powerful or manageable as they seem?

Probably no one civilized nation is composed of elements so difficult to mould into the form of a thoroughly organized army, as the Northern States of the Union. The men individually, especially those drawn from the West, are fully endowed with the courage, activity, and endurance inherent in the Anglo-Saxon race: they can act promptly and daringly enough on their own independent resources; but, when required to move as unreasoning units of a mass, directed by a superior will, they utterly fail. All the antecedents of the Federal recruit interfere with his progress towards the mechanical perfection of the trained soldier. The gait and demeanor of the country lads are not more shambling and slovenly than those of the ordinary British; but the latter from his youth up, has imbibed certain ideas of subordination to superiors, which make him yield more pliantly and implicitly to after discipline. Now, the American is taught to contemn all such old-world ideas as respect of persons. Even the All-mighty Dollar cannot command deference, though it may enforce obedience. The volunteer carries with him into the ranks, an ostentatious spirit of self-assertion and independence. He has always mixed on terms of as much equality as his purse would allow of, with the class from which his officers have emerged by election; and knows that, at the expiration of their service, each will resume his place as if no such distinction had existed. So he goes into action fully prepared to criticise the orders of his superiors, and even to ignore them if they clash too strongly with his private judgment; he has no intention of abating one iota of his franchise, or one privilege of an enlightened citizen. In the regular army, ceremonial is rather better observed; but, even here, you will observe the barriers of grade frequently transgressed, both in manner and tone: the volunteers will rarely salute even a field-officer, unless on parade, or by special orders.

This spirit of independent judgment is by no means confined to the rank and file. The evidence before the War Committee shows how seldom a General-in-Chief can depend on the hearty co-operation of his Division leaders, and how unreservedly dissent was often expressed by those whose lips discipline ought to have sealed.

The fact is, that a spirit of party impregnates all the military organization of the North: a Federal army is a vast political machine. State Governors have followed the example of the Administration in their selection of the higher officers: these, as a rule, owe their election entirely to their own influence, or that of their friends; all other qualifications are disregarded. It is idle to expect that such men can command the confidence of the soldiers by virtue of their rank; they have to win this by individual prowess.[3] The Confederates have been more just and wise. Some of these political appointments were made at the beginning of the war, but changes were made as soon as incapacity was manifest, and almost all posts of importance are now occupied by officers educated at West Point, or at one of many military schools long established at the South.

An army of free-thinkers is very hard to handle either in camp or field. They do not grumble, perhaps, so much as the British "full private;" indeed they have little cause, for the commissariat arrangements, even in remote departments, are admirable, and the Union grudges no comfort, or even luxury, to her armies. But they become "demoralized" (the word is a cant one now) surprisingly fast, and recover from such, depression very, very slowly. When the moment for action arrives, such men get fresh heart in the first excitement, but they lack stability, and if any sudden check ensues, involving change of ground to the rear, a few minutes are enough to turn a retreat into a rout. You may send forth your volunteer, with all the pomp and circumstance of war, and greet his return with all enthusiasm of welcome; you may make him the hero of paragraph and tale (I believe it is treasonable to choose any other jeune premier for a love story just now); you may put a flag into his hand, more riddled and shot-torn than any of our old Peninsular standards; you may salute him "veteran," a month after the first baptism of fire; but the savor of the conscript and the citizen will cling to him still.