The Life and Work of James A. Garfield, Twentieth President of the United States / Embracing an Account of the Scenes and Incidents of His Boyhood; the Struggles of His Youth; the Might of His Early Manhood; His Valor As a Soldier; His Career As a Statesman; His Election to the Presidency; and the Tragic Story of His Death.

by John Clark Ridpath

“The matter may as well be tested first as last. Right is right, and I do not propose to mince matters at all. My soldiers are here for far other purposes than hunting and returning fugitive slaves. My people on the Western Reserve of Ohio did not send my boys and myself down here to do that kind of business, and they will back me up in my action.”

But no court-martial was held. A short time afterwards the War Department issued a general order embodying the principle of Garfield’s refusal; and from that time it was the rule in all the armies of the Republic that no soldier should hound a human being back to fetters.

After the six weeks’ preparation for the siege of Corinth, Halleck found that only the hull of the nut was left for him. The wily enemy had evacuated the place without a struggle. The vast Union army, which had been massed for this campaign, having no foe to oppose it, was resolved into its original elements. The Army of the Ohio, under Buell, was ordered to East Tennessee, preparatory to an attack on Chattanooga. The advance to the east, was along the line of the Memphis and Chattanooga Railroad. This road had to be almost entirely rebuilt, as the supplies for the army were to come along its line. This work of rebuilding was assigned to Wood’s division, and Garfield’s brigade laid down the musket to handle the spade and hammer. Here, Garfield’s boyhood experience with tools, was of incalculable value. If a culvert was to be built, his head planned a swift, but substantial way, to build it. If a bridge had been burned, his eye saw quickly how to shape the spans, and secure the braces. His mind was of the rare sort which combines speculative with practical powers. His spirit electrified his men, as it had the school at Hiram; and, in the drudgery of the work, from which the inspiration of battle was wholly wanting, it was he who cheered and encouraged their unwonted toil. The work, for the time being, having been finished, Garfield’s head-quarters were established at Huntsville, Alabama, the most beautiful town in America. But the exposures of army life, the tremendous exertions put forth in rebuilding the railroad, and the fierce rays of the summer sun, in the unaccustomed climate, laid hold on his constitution, in which the old boyhood tendency to ague was all the time dormant; and in the latter part of July, 1862, he was attacked by malarial fever. In the rough surroundings of the camp, as he tossed on his feverish couch, his thoughts turned longingly to the young wife and child in that humble northern home. Procuring sick-leave, he started north about the first of August.

The War Department had an eye upon Garfield, and determined to give his abilities free scope. Five divisions of Buell’s army we have followed to Corinth, and thence, along the tedious march to Chattanooga. A sixth division had been sent on a separate expedition to Northern Mississippi, and a seventh, under General Geo. W. Morgan, to occupy East Tennessee, and, in particular, Cumberland Gap. In the early part of August, orders reached Garfield to proceed to Cumberland Gap and take command of the seventh division of the Army of the Ohio, relieving General Morgan. But when the order reached Garfield, he was already on his way north, fast held by the malignant clutch of low fever.

While Garfield had been with the army before Corinth, and on the line of march toward Chattanooga, the general discipline was very loose. The army camp is the most demoralizing place in the world. The men lose all self-restraint, and lapse into ferocious and barbarous manners. The check for this is discipline; but the volunteer troops, in the early stages of the war, utterly scouted the idea of discipline. To render it effective, the Army of the Ohio had to be reduced to a basis of strict military order. Courts-martial were frequent. Garfield’s judicial mind and sound judgment, combined with the knowledge of discipline which his experience as a teacher had given him, caused him to be sought for eagerly, to conduct these courts-martial. He was idolized by his own men, but his ability in the drum-head courts spread his fame throughout the division. The trial of Colonel Turchin, for conduct unbecoming an officer, was the one which attracted most attention.

The report of the trial to the War Department, prepared by Garfield, had served to still further heighten the opinion of his abilities entertained there. Garfield had been at home, on his sick leave, about a month, and had begun to rally from the fever, when he received orders to report at Washington City as soon as his health would permit. Shortly after this he again bade farewell to his girlish wife, and started to the Capital. The service for which he was required there, was none other than to sit on the memorable court-martial of Fitz-John Porter, the most important military trial of the war. The charges against Porter are well known. He was accused of having disobeyed five distinct orders to bring his command to the front in time to take part in the second battle of Bull Run. The trial lasted nearly two months. Garfield was required to pass upon complicated questions, involving the rules of war, the situation and surroundings of Porter’s command previous to the battle, the duties of subordinate commanders, and the military possibilities of the situation. In such a trial, the common sense of a strong, but unprofessional mind, was more valuable than the technical training of a soldier. The question at issue was, whether Porter had kept his own opinions to himself and cheerfully obeyed his superior’s orders, even if he did not approve them, or whether, through anger or jealousy, he had sulked in the rear, so as to insure the defeat which he prophesied. Garfield threw all his powers into the investigation, and at last was convinced that Porter was guilty. Such was the verdict of the Court; such, the opinion of Presidents Lincoln and Grant, and such will be the opinion of posterity.

During this trial, Garfield became a warm friend of Major-General Hunter, the presiding officer of the court, and in command of our forces in South Carolina. After the adjournment, Hunter made an application to Secretary Stanton to have Garfield assigned to the Army of South Carolina. The appointment was made. It was gratifying to Garfield, because Hunter was one of the strong antislavery generals, whom, at that time, were few enough. Garfield felt that the war, though being fought on the technical question of a State’s right to secede, was really a war to destroy the hideous and bloody institution of slavery, and he wished to see it carried on with that avowed purpose. As he afterwards expressed it: “In the very crisis of our fate, God brought us face to face with the alarming truth, that we must lose our own freedom or grant it to the slave.”

In the same address from which the above is taken, which was delivered before the war had actually closed, he declared that slavery was dead, and the war had killed it:

“We shall never know why slavery dies so hard in this Republic and in this hall till we know why sin has such longevity and Satan is immortal. With marvelous tenacity of existence, it has outlived the expectations of its friends and the hopes of its enemies. It has been declared here and elsewhere to be in all the several stages of mortality, wounded, moribund, dead. The question has been raised, whether it was indeed dead, or only in a troubled sleep. I know of no better illustration of its condition than is found in Sallust’s admirable history of the great conspirator Catiline, who, when his final battle was fought and lost, his army broken and scattered, was found far in advance of his own troops, lying among the dead enemies of Rome, yet breathing a little, but exhibiting in his countenance all that ferocity of spirit which had characterized his life. So, sir, this body of slavery lies before us among the dead enemies of the Republic, mortally wounded, impotent in its fiendish wickedness, but with its old ferocity of look, bearing the unmistakable marks of its infernal origin.”—House of Representatives, January 13, 1865.

But in war it is always the unexpected which happens. Pending Garfield’s departure to Hunter’s command, his old army, then merged with the Army of the Cumberland, under the command of General Rosecrans, who relieved Buell, had, on the last day of the year of 1862, plunged into the battle of Stone River. During the day a cannon-ball took off the head of the beloved Garesché, chief of General Rosecrans’s staff. The place was important, and hard to fill. It required a man of high military ability to act as chief confidential adviser of the commanding general, both as to the general plan of a campaign, and the imperious exigencies of battle. Rosecrans had relied much on Garesché, and, just when so much was expected of the Army of the Cumberland, the War Department feared the testy General might become unmanageable, and, though well versed in the practice of warfare, give way just at the crisis. The chief of staff also had to be a man of pleasant social qualities to fit him for the intimate relation.