I say Grant was the only man who could conquer the Rebellion; the only one who had the elements of success in him. I, Bernard Galligasken, say this, and I speak advisedly, knowing what I say. During the war, men went from the ranks up to generals of division in a couple of years. If any one had any military talent, he went up like a rocket, and, alas! he often went down like one, when he had soared to the ethereal regions whose air he could not breathe and live. Almost all who were heroes in the first year of the war were laid on the shelf before it was half finished. Corporals became colonels, and major generals disappeared from the scene of strife. If there was a skilful and patriotic man in the army, he was raised up; if there was an unskilful one, he was pulled down, whatever height he had attained. The need of the nation was desperate, and it could court or flatter no man who was not successful. For three long years the army was hungry for a competent leader, but found him not. The government longed for a mighty man, and was always ready to give him all the honors and all the power it had, without asking his politics, his religion, his antecedents, or even his nationality. There was a chance for any man who had the needed ability; the army, the people, the government, were ready to take him, when he won his laurel, elevate him to the highest position, go down on their knees before him, obey him, trust him, follow him. The path that Grant trod was open to every soldier, and, indeed, to every civilian.
Where are McClellan, Fremont, Buell, Rosecrans, Pope, Hooker, Burnside? I believe that the country owes them all a debt of gratitude for what they did in the war, and ought to forgive them for what they did not do. All of them were placed in positions to achieve the high eminence which Grant reached. It is no discredit to them that they did not succeed in them. I am not willing to believe that it was their fault that they failed, even while each of them may justly be held responsible for his own mistakes. I only wish to show that each of them had, if not a fair chance, at least the same chance that Grant had; certainly none of them was more maligned, none of them more savagely treated by politicians and evil advisers in Washington. If some of them were not trusted as long as Grant, it was only because they did not exhibit abilities which gave the same promise of ultimate success.
Grant was no accidental hero. I have followed him through the struggles of his brilliant career, and I declare upon my sacred honor as a soldier and an historian, that never a success did he win which he did not work for. Behold him at Donelson, threading his way, in the cold blasts of that bitter storm, among his weary, freezing soldiers, day after day and night after night, wresting victory from the opposing elements! Could it have been an accident that he won that brilliant victory, after the herculean labor he personally performed, after the severe sufferings which he personally endured, after the savage fighting in which he personally engaged? Was it an accident, that, in the midst of disaster, he gave the startling order to charge upon the enemy's strong works, and made fighting men out of soldiers demoralized and defeated? Behold him in the Vicksburg campaign, standing up by the might of his potent will, and against the advice of all his trusted generals, cutting loose from his supplies, and fighting battle after battle, till the foe was driven within his stronghold! Was this success an accident? See him sleeping on the ground with his faithful soldiers, with no covering but the stars; see him marching by day and watching by night, attending to the minutest details of the commissary and the quartermaster! Every success was wrung from opposing elements, and carried through over the most stupendous obstacle. See him, partially disabled, with his head pillowed upon a stump, in the pelting rain, after the hard-fought day at Shiloh, exhausted by his superhuman labors, stealing an hour of rest to keep him alive for the duties of another day—see him, and declare that accidental heroes are not made after this fashion! Go with him, crippled in body, and worn out with suffering on a sick bed, to the gloom of defeat and starvation at Chattanooga! Follow him as he moves about on his crutches through the streets of that beleaguered town, bringing light out of darkness, joy and victory out of misery and disaster. Not thus do accidental heroes soar to sublime heights.
Accidental fortune is not thus constant. To the hero crowned with success, as Grant is, only a lofty patriotism, a sublime devotion to his country, and a splendid genius, can be constant. These desert him never. These triumph over all obstacles, bearing their possessor to the loftiest pinnacle of fame, and, better still, to the highest place in the regards of a free and intelligent people, as they have borne Grant. No accident, no combination of accidents, could have lifted him up, or sustained him a single year.
In the selection of his subordinates Grant won half his success. Cool, unbiassed judgment did its perfect work for him. His singleness of purpose freed him from bias. He raised men up, or he threw them down, only in the interests of the hallowed cause to which he gave his whole mind and heart. No man ever lived, or ever will live, who more entirely sunk himself in the work he had engaged to do. If any high officer stood in the way of the success of the Union arms, he was removed; for Grant always knew his man. He was wholly free from personal prejudice and partiality. He elevated no man who was not fit to be elevated. Of the prominent officers who stood the test of the war, every one was either raised up by Grant, or stood approved by him. Sherman and Sheridan were his protégés; Thomas owed his position as an independent commander to him; Meade and Schofield have to thank him for the high places they hold to-day. He selected them for the great work they did; and while they, in a sense, built him up, he afforded them the opportunity to which their ability entitled them. In building up himself, he built them up; in saving the nation, they saved each other, and won imperishable renown.
"The soldiers and sailors are not all for a sham hero, a creature of fortuitous circumstances," said a noted political general at a convention of which Wade Hampton and Forrest, ex-rebel generals, were members, to say nothing of the Northern traitors who had stabbed the government in the back during the whole course of the war. He alluded to Grant, the nominee of the national party of the Union—our Standard-Bearer in the contest which is to complete the victory won on the Southern battle-fields. This same political general was a brave man—as brave as any negro private whom his fellow-member in the convention butchered at Fort Pillow; but he was the marplot of Grant's Vicksburg campaign. Scores of brave men were slaughtered at Champion's Hill by his criminal delay to obey his superior's orders. At Shiloh, Sherman fought his division for him, because he did not know how himself. The key to this sneer about the "creature of fortuitous circumstances" is found in the fact that Grant removed from command the author of the phrase at Vicksburg, for publishing a stupid, ridiculous, and sensational order, wherein he arrogated to himself the principal glory of the fighting at Vicksburg, whereas he was notoriously dilatory, lax, and incompetent in the discharge of his duties. If the Lord, in his infinite wisdom, permitted any "sham heroes" to be inflicted upon our war-stricken nation, the author of this sentence was the principal of them. It was Grant's chief glory that he conquered in spite of such malignant obstacles in his path. But our glorious Standard-Bearer needs no defence at my hands, and I humbly apologize for bringing this viper of the New York Convention into my story.
[CHAPTER XXX.]
Wherein Captain Galligasken follows the illustrious Soldier in his Career after the War, relates several Anecdotes of him, and respectfully invites the whole World to match him.