Nonsense such as this is not only contemptible but criminal, when contrasted with the kind fellowship of Washington for his men,—his solicitude for their sufferings at Valley Forge,—Putnam sharing his scanty meals with privates of his command,—Napoleon learning the wants of his veterans from their own lips, and tapping a Grenadier familiarly upon the shoulder to ask the favor of a pinch from his snuff-box. Those worthies may rest assured that marquees pitched at Regulation distance, and access through non-commissioned officers, will not, if natural dignity be wanting, create respect. How greatly would the efficiency of the army have been increased, had the true gentility that characterized the noble soul of Colonel Simmons, who fell at Gaines' Mills, and that will always command reverence, been more general among his brother officers of the Regular Army.
These evil results should not, however, lead to a wholesome condemnation of West Point. The advantages of the Institution have been abused, or rather neglected, by the great masses of the Loyal States. In our moral matter-of-fact business communities it has been too generally the case, that cadets have been the appointees of political favoritism, regardless of merit; and that the wild and often worthless son of influential and wealthy parents, who had grown beyond home restraint, and who gave little indication of a life of honor or usefulness, would be turned into the public inclosure at West Point to square his morals and his toes at the same time at public expense, and the act rejoiced at as a good family riddance. Thus in the Loyal States, the profession of arms had fallen greatly into disrepute previously
to the outbreak of the Rebellion, and instead of being known as a respectable vocation, was considered as none at all. Had military training to some extent been connected with the common school education of the land, we would have gained in health, and would have been provided with an able array of officers for our noble army of Volunteers. Among other preparations for their infamous revolt, the Rebels did not fail to give this especial prominence. The Northern States have been great in peace; the material is being rapidly educated that will make them correspondingly great in war.
"November's surly blasts" were baring the forests of foliage, when the order for the last Review by McClellan was read to the Troops. Mutinies and rumors of mutinies "from the most reliable sources" had been suspended above the Administration, like the threatening sword of Damocles; but Abraham's foot was down at last, and beyond murmurings and mutterings at disaffected Head-Quarters no unsoldierly conduct marked the reception of the order. So far from the "heavens being hung with black," as a few man-worshippers in their mad devotion would have wished, nature smiled beautifully fair. Such a sight could only be realized in Republican America. A military Commander of the greatest army upon the Continent, elevated in the vain-glory of dependent subordinates into a quasi-Dictatorship, was suddenly lowered from his high position, and his late Troops march to this last Review with the quiet formality of a dress parade. What cared those stern, self-sacrificing men in ranks, from whose bayonets that brilliant sun glistened in diamond splendor, for the magic of a name—the majesty of a Staff, gorgeous, although not clothed in the uniform desired by its late Chief. The
measure of payment for toil and sacrifice with them, was progress in the prosecution of their holy cause. The thunders of the artillery that welcomed him with the honor due to his rank, reminded them to how little purpose, through shortcomings upon his part, those same pieces had thundered upon the Peninsula and at Antietam.
Massed in close columns by division along the main road leading to Warrenton, the troops awaited the last of the grand pageants that had made the Army of the Potomac famous for reviews. Its late Commander, as he gracefully sat his bay, had not the nonchalance of manner that he manifested while reading a note and accompanying our earnest President in a former review at Sharpsburg; nor was the quiet dignity that he usually exhibited when at the head of his Staff, apparent. His manner seemed nervous, his look doubly anxious; troubled in the present, and solicitous as to the future. Conscious, too, doubtless, as he faced a nation's Representatives in arms, how he had "kept the word of promise to the ear," and how "he had broken it to the hope;" how while his reviews had revealed a mighty army of undoubted ability and eagerness for the fight, his indecision or proneness to delay had made its campaigns the laughing-stock of the world. His brilliant Staff clattered at his heels; but glittering surroundings were powerless to avert the memories of a winter's inactivity at Manassas, the delay at Yorktown, the blunders on the Chickahominy, or the disgrace of the day after Antietam. How closely such memories thronged upon this thinking soldiery, and how little men who leave families and business for the field, from the necessity of the case, care for men if their measures are unsuccessful, may be imagined, when
the fact is known that this same Little Mac, once so great a favorite through efforts of the Press and officers with whom he had peopled the places in his gift, received his last cheers from some Divisions of that same Army by word of command.
"A long farewell to all his greatness."
Imbecile in politics as in war, he cannot retrieve it by cringing to party purposes. The desire that actuates our masses and demands able and earnest leaders has long since dissolved party lines.
This leave-taking was followed a few days later by that of the Corps Commander. Troubled looks, shadows that preceded his dark future, were plainly visible as the Prince passed up and down the lines of his late command.