"One of the Aids just told me," rejoined the Lieutenant, "that the Rebels were in force in our front, and would contest the Rappahannock, while the possession of the Gap we have just left lets them in upon our rear."
"The old game played out again," says the Adjutant. "Another string loose in the bag. Strategy in one respect resembles mesmerism—the object operated upon must remain perfectly quiet. Are we never to suppose that the Rebels have plans, and that their vigilance increases, and will increase, in proportion to the extremity of their case? Our theorists and routine men move armies as a student practises at chess, as if the whole field was under their control, and both armies at their disposal. With our immense resources, vigorous fighting and practical common sense would speedily suppress the Rebellion. Where are our old fighting stock of Generals? our Hookers, Heintzelmans, Hancocks, and men of like kidney? Why must their fiery energies succumb to a cold-blooded strategy, that wastes the materiel of war, and what is worse, fills our hospitals to no purpose? Those men have learned how to command from actual contact with men. The art of being practical, adapting one's self to emergencies, is not taught in schools. With some it is doubtless innate; with the great mass, it is a matter of education, such as is acquired from moving among men."
"We have the Pyrrhic dance as yet;
Where is our Pyrrhic phalanx gone?
Of two such lessons why forget
The nobler and the manlier one?"
broke in our Poetical Lieutenant.
"D—n your Pyrrhics," retorted the Adjutant, snappishly. "For the Pyrrhics of past days we have Empirics now. Our phalanxes of old have been led to victory by militia Colonels, who sprang from the thinking head of the people, glowing with the sacred fire of their cause. Do you not believe," continued he enthusiastically, "that the loyal masses who sprang into ranks at the insult upon Sumter would have found a leader long ere this worthy of their cause, whose rapid and decisive blows would have saved us disgraceful campaigns, had the nation been unencumbered by this ruin of a Regular Army, that has given us little else than a tremendous array of officers, many of them of the Pigeon-hole and Paper order,—beggarly lists of Privates,—Routine that must be carried out at any cost of success,—and Red Tape that everywhere represses patriotism? And then to think, too, of the half-heartedness and disaffection. How long must these sneaking Catilines in high places abuse our patience? But what can be expected from officers who are not in the service from patriotic motives, but rather from prospects of pay and position? End the war, and you will have men who are now unworthy Major and Brigadier Generals, subsiding into Captains and Lieutenants. Their movements indicate that they realize their position fully; but when will the country realize that 'strategy' is played out?"
"The whiskey at Division Head-quarters is played out, any way," said a Sergeant on duty in the Commissary
Department, who had entered the tent while the Adjutant was speaking.
"'And not a drop to drink,'"
rejoined the Lieutenant.