Part 8

November 19, 1863]

There was disappointment that Meade had not shown more energy after Gettysburg in the pursuit of Lee's army and that some attempt, at least, had not been made to interfere with the retreat across the Potomac. Military critics have in fact pointed out that Meade had laid himself open to criticism in the management of the battle itself. At the time of the repulse of Pickett's charge, Meade had available at the left and in rear of his centre the sixth corps which had hardly been engaged on the previous two days, and which included some of the best fighting material in the army. It has been pointed out more than once that if that corps had been thrown in at once with a countercharge upon the heels of the retreating divisions of Longstreet, Lee's right must have been curled up and overwhelmed. If this had happened, Lee's army would have been so seriously shattered that its power for future service would have been inconsiderable. Meade was accepted as a good working general but the occasion demanded something more forcible in the way of leadership and, early in 1864, Lincoln sends for the man who by his success in the West had won the hopeful confidence of the President and the people.

Before this appointment of General-in-chief was given to General Grant, and he came to the East to take charge of the armies in Virginia, he had brought to a successful conclusion a dramatic campaign, of which Chattanooga was the centre. In September, 1863, General Rosecrans, who had occupied Chattanooga, was defeated some twenty miles to the south on the field of Chickamauga, a defeat which was the result of too much confidence on the part of the Federal commander, who in pressing his advance had unwisely separated the great divisions of his army, and of excellent skill and enterprise on the part of the Confederate commander, General Bragg. If the troops of Rosecrans had not been veterans, and if the right wing had not been under the immediate command of so sturdy and unconquered a veteran as General Thomas, the defeat might have become a rout. As it was, the army retreated with some discouragement but in good fighting force, to the lines of Chattanooga. By skilful disposition of his forces across the lines of connection between Chattanooga and the base of supplies, General Bragg brought the Federals almost to the point of starvation, and there was grave risk that through the necessary falling back of the army to secure supplies, the whole advantage of the previous year's campaign might be lost. Grant was placed in charge of the forces in Chattanooga, and by a good management of the resources available, he succeeded in reopening the river and what became known as "the cracker line," and in November, 1863, in the dramatic battles of Lookout Mountain, fought more immediately by General Hooker, and of Missionary Ridge, the troops of which were under the direct command of General Sherman, overwhelmed the lines of Bragg, and pressed his forces back into a more or less disorderly retreat. An important factor in the defeat of Bragg was the detaching from his army of the corps under Longstreet which had been sent to Knoxville in a futile attempt to crush Burnside and to reconquer East Tennessee for the Confederacy. This plan, chiefly political in purpose, was said to have originated with President Davis. The armies of the West were now placed under the command of General Sherman, and early in 1864, Grant was brought to Virginia to take up the perplexing problem of overcoming the sturdy veterans of General Lee.

The first action of Grant as commander of all the armies in the field was to concentrate all the available forces against the two chief armies of the Confederacy. The old policy of occupying outlying territory for the sake of making a show of political authority was given up. If Johnston in the West and Lee in the East could be crushed, the national authority would be restored in due season, and that was the only way in which it could be restored. Troops were gathered in from Missouri and Arkansas and Louisiana and were placed under the command of Sherman for use in the final effort of breaking through the centre of the Confederacy, while in the East nothing was neglected on the part of the new administration to secure for the direction of the new commander all resources available of men and of supplies.

Grant now finds himself pitted against the first soldier of the continent, the leader who is to go down to history as probably the greatest soldier that America has ever produced. Lee's military career is a wonderful example of a combination of brilliancy, daring ingenuity of plan, promptness of action, and patient persistence under all kinds of discouragement, but it was not only through these qualities that it was possible for him to retain control, through three years of heavy fighting, of the territory of Virginia, which came to be the chief bulwark of the Confederacy. Lee's high character, sweetness of nature, and unselfish integrity of purpose had impressed themselves not only upon the Confederate administration which had given him the command but upon every soldier in that command. For the army of Northern Virginia Lee was the man behind the guns just as Lincoln came to be for all the men in blue. There never was a more devoted army and there probably never was a better handled army than that with which Lee defended for three years the lines across Northern Virginia and the remnants of which were finally surrendered at Appomattox.

Grant might well have felt concerned with such an opponent in front of him. He had on his hands (as had been the almost uniform condition for the army of the Potomac) the disadvantage of position. His advance must be made from exterior lines and nearly every attack was to be against well entrenched positions that had been first selected years back and had been strengthened from season to season. On the other hand, Grant was able to depend upon the loyal support of the administration through which came to his army the full advantage of the great resources of the North. His ranks as depleted were filled up, his commissary trains need never be long unsupplied, his ammunition waggons were always equipped. For Lee, during the years following the Gettysburg battle, the problem was unending and increasing: How should the troops be fed and whence should they secure the fresh supplies of ammunition?

Between Grant and Lincoln there came to be perfect sympathy of thought and action. The men had in their nature (though not in their mental equipment) much in common. Grant carries his army through the spring of 1864, across the much fought over territory, marching and fighting from day to day towards the south-west. The effort is always to outflank Lee's right, getting in between him and his base at Richmond, but after each fight, Lee's army always bars the way. Marching out of the Wilderness after seven days' fierce struggle, Grant still finds the line of grey blocking his path to Richmond. The army of the Potomac had been marching and fighting without break for weeks. There had been but little sleep, and the food in the trains was often far out of the reach of the men in the fighting line. Men and officers were alike exhausted. While advantages had been gained at one point or another along the line, and while it was certain that the opposing army had also suffered severely, there had been no conclusive successes to inspirit the troops with the feeling that they were to seize victory out of the campaign.

In emerging from the Wilderness, the head of the column reached the cross-roads the left fork of which led back to the Potomac and the right fork to Richmond or to Petersburg. In the previous campaigns, the army of the Potomac, after doing its share of plucky fighting and taking more than its share of discouragement, had at such a point been withdrawn for rest and recuperation. It was not an unnatural expectation that this course would be taken in the present campaign. The road to the right meant further fatigue and further continuous fighting for men who were already exhausted. In the leading brigade it was only the brigade commander and the adjutant who had knowledge of the instructions for the line of march. When, with a wave of the hand of the adjutant, the guidon flag of the brigade was carried to the right and the head of the column was set towards Richmond, a shout went up from the men marching behind the guidon. It was an utterance not of discouragement but of enthusiasm. Exhausting as the campaign had been, the men in the ranks preferred to fight it out then and to get through with it. Old soldiers as they were, they were able to understand the actual issue of the contest. Their plucky opponents were as exhausted as themselves and possibly even more exhausted. It was only through the hammering of Lee's diminishing army out of existence that the War could be brought to a close. The enthusiastic shout of satisfaction rolled through the long column reaching twenty miles back, as the news passed from brigade to brigade that the army was not to be withdrawn but was, as Grant's report to Lincoln was worded, "to fight it out on this line if it took all summer." When this report reached Lincoln, he felt that the selection of Grant as Lieutenant-General had been justified. He said: "We need this man. He fights."

In July, 1864, Washington is once more within reach if not of the invader at least of the raider. The Federal forces had been concentrated in Grant's lines along the James, and General Jubal Early, one of the most energetic fighters of the Southern army, tempted by the apparently unprotected condition of the capital, dashed across the Potomac on a raid that became famous. It is probable that in this undertaking, as in some of the other movements that have been referred to on the part of the Southern leaders, the purpose was as much political as military. Early's force of from fifteen to sixteen thousand men was, of course, in no way strong enough to be an army of invasion. The best success for which he could hope would be, in breaking through the defences of Washington, to hold the capital for a day or even a few hours. The capture of Washington in 1864, as in 1863 or in 1862, would in all probability have brought about the long-hoped-for intervention of France and England. General Lew Wallace, whose name became known in the years after the War through some noteworthy romances, Ben Hur and The Fair God, and who was in command of a division of troops stationed west of Washington, and composed in part of loyal Marylanders and in part of convalescents who were about to be returned to the front, fell back before Early's advance to Monocacy Creek. He disposed his thin line cleverly in the thickets on the east side of the creek in such fashion as to give the impression of a force of some size with an advance line of skirmishers. Early's advance was checked for some hours before he realised that there was nothing of importance in front of him; when Wallace's division was promptly overwhelmed and scattered. The few hours that had thus been saved were, however, of first importance for the safety of Washington. Early reached the outer lines of the fortifications of the capital some time after sunset. His immediate problem was to discover whether the troops which were, as he knew, being hurried up from the army of the James, had reached Washington or whether the capital was still under the protection only of its so-called home-guard of veteran reserves. These reserves were made up of men more or less crippled and unfit for work in the field but who were still able to do service on fortifications. They comprised in all about six thousand men and were under the command of Colonel Wisewell. The force was strengthened somewhat that night by the addition of all of the male nurses from the hospitals (themselves convalescents) who were able to bear arms. That night the women nurses, who had already been in attendance during the hours of the day, had to render double service. Lincoln had himself in the afternoon stood on the works watching the dust of the Confederate advance. Once more there came to the President who had in his hands the responsibility for the direction of the War the bitterness of the feeling, if not of possible failure, at least of immediate mortification. He knew that within twenty-four or thirty-six hours Washington could depend upon receiving the troops that were being hurried up from Grant's army, but he also realised what enormous mischief might be brought about by even a momentary occupation of the national capital by Confederate troops. I had some personal interest in this side campaign. The 19th army corps, to which my own regiment belonged, had been brought from Louisiana to Virginia and had been landed on the James River to strengthen the ranks of General Butler. There had not been time to assign to us posts in the trenches and we had, in fact, not even been placed in position. We were more nearly in marching order than any other troops available and it was therefore the divisions of the 19th army corps that were selected to be hurried up to Washington. To these were added two divisions of the 6th corps.

Colonel Wisewell, commanding the defences of the city, realised the nature of his problem. He had got to hold the lines of Washington, cost what it might, until the arrival of the troops from Grant. He took the bold step of placing on the picket line that night every man within reach, or at least every loyal man within reach (for plenty of the men in Washington were looking and hoping for the success of the South). The instructions usually given to pickets were in this instance reversed. The men were ordered, in place of keeping their positions hidden and of maintaining absolute quiet, to move from post to post along the whole line, and they were also ordered, without any reference to the saving of ammunition, to shoot off their carbines on the least possible pretext and without pretext. The armories were then beginning to send to the front Sharp's repeating carbines. The invention of breech-loading rifles came too late to be of service to the infantry on either side, but during the last year of the War, certain brigades of cavalry were armed with Sharp's breech-loaders. The infantry weapon used through the War by the armies of the North as by those of the South was the muzzle-loading rifle which bore the name on our side of the Springfield and on the Confederate side of the Enfield. The larger portion of the Northern rifles were manufactured in Springfield, Massachusetts, while the Southern rifles, in great part imported from England, took their name from the English factory. It was of convenience for both sides that the two rifles were practically identical so that captured pieces and captured ammunition could be interchanged without difficulty.

Early's skirmish line was instructed early in the night to "feel" the Federal pickets, an instruction which resulted in a perfect blaze of carbine fire from Wisewell's men. The report that went to Early was that the picket line must be about six thousand strong. The conclusion on the part of the old Confederate commander was that the troops from the army of the Potomac must have reached the city. If that were true, there was, of course, no chance that on the following day he could break through the entrenchments, while there was considerable risk that his retreat to the Shenandoah might be cut off. Early the next morning, therefore, the disappointed Early led his men back to Falling Waters.

I happened during the following winter, when in prison in Danville, to meet a Confederate lieutenant who had been on Early's staff and who had lost an arm in this little campaign. He reported that when Early, on recrossing the Potomac, learned that he had had Washington in his grasp and that the divisions marching to its relief did not arrive and could not have arrived for another twenty-four hours, he was about the maddest Early that the lieutenant had ever seen. "And," added the lieutenant, "when Early was angry, the atmosphere became blue."

VIII

THE FINAL CAMPAIGN

After this close escape, it was clear to Grant as it had been clear to Lincoln that whatever forces were concentrated before Petersburg, the line of advance for Confederate invaders through the Shenandoah must be blocked. General Sheridan was placed in charge of the army of the Shenandoah and the 19th corps, instead of returning to the trenches of the James, marched on from Washington to Martinsburg and Winchester.

In September, the commander in Washington had the satisfaction of hearing that his old assailant Early had been sent "whirling through Winchester" by the fierce advance of Sheridan. Lincoln recognised the possibility that Early might refuse to stay defeated and might make use, as had so often before been done by Confederate commanders in the Valley, of the short interior line to secure reinforcements from Richmond and to make a fresh attack. On the 29th of September, twenty days before this attack came off, Lincoln writes to Grant: "Lee may be planning to reinforce Early. Care should be taken to trace any movement of troops westward." On the 19th of October, the persistent old fighter Early, not willing to acknowledge himself beaten and understanding that he had to do with an army that for the moment did not have the advantage of Sheridan's leadership, made his plucky, and for the time successful, fight at Cedar Creek. The arrival of Sheridan at the critical hour in the afternoon of the 19th of October did not, as has sometimes been stated, check the retreat of a demoralised army. Sheridan found his army driven back, to be sure, from its first position, but in occupation of a well supported line across the pike from which had just been thrown back the last attack made by Early's advance. It was Sheridan however who decided not only that the battle which had been lost could be regained, but that the work could be done to best advantage right away on that day, and it was Sheridan who led his troops through the too short hours of the October afternoon back to their original position from which before dark they were able to push Early's fatigued fighters across Cedar Creek southward. Lincoln had found another man who could fight. He was beginning to be able to put trust in leaders who, instead of having to be replaced, were with each campaign gathering fresh experience and more effective capacity.

From the West also came reports, in this autumn of 1864, from a fighting general. Sherman had carried the army, after its success at Chattanooga, through the long line of advance to Atlanta, by outflanking movements against Joe Johnston, the Fabius of the Confederacy, and when Johnston had been replaced by the headstrong Hood, had promptly taken advantage of Hood's rashness to shatter the organisation of the army of Georgia. The capture of Atlanta in September, 1864, brought to Lincoln in Washington and to the North the feeling of certainty that the days of the Confederacy were numbered.

The second invasion of Tennessee by the army of Hood, rendered possible by the march of Sherman to the sea, appeared for the moment to threaten the control that had been secured of the all-important region of which Nashville was the centre, but Hood's march could only be described as daring but futile. He had no base and no supplies. His advance did some desperate fighting at the battle of Franklin and succeeded in driving back the rear-guard of Thomas's army, ably commanded by General Schofield, but the Confederate ranks were so seriously shattered that when they took position in front of Nashville they no longer had adequate strength to make the siege of the city serious even as a threat. Thomas had only to wait until his own preparations were completed and then, on the same day in December on which Sherman was entering Savannah, Thomas, so to speak, "took possession" of Hood's army. After the fight at Nashville, there were left of the Confederate invaders only a few scattered divisions.

It was just before the news of the victory at Nashville that Lincoln made time to write the letter to Mrs. Bixby whose name comes into history as an illustration of the thoughtful sympathy of the great captain:

"I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the adjutant-general of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming, but I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost and the pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom."

In March, 1864, Lincoln writes to Grant: "New York votes to give votes to the soldiers. Tell the soldiers." The decision of New York in regard to the collection from the soldiers in each field of the votes for the coming Presidential election was in line with that arrived at by all of the States. The plan presented difficulties and, in connection with the work of special commissioners, it involved also expense. It was, however, on every ground desirable that the men who were risking their lives in defence of the nation should be given the opportunity of taking part in the selection of the nation's leader, who was also under the Constitution the commander-in-chief of the armies in the field. The votes of some four hundred thousand men constituted also an important factor in the election itself. I am not sure that the attempt was ever made to separate and classify the soldiers' vote but it is probable that although the Democratic candidate was McClellan, a soldier who had won the affection of the men serving under him, and the opposing candidate was a civilian, a substantial majority of the vote of the soldiers was given to Lincoln.

Secretary Chase had fallen into the habit of emphasising what he believed to be his indispensability in the Cabinet by threatening to resign, or even by submitting a resignation, whenever his suggestions or conclusions met with opposition. These threats had been received with patience up to the point when patience seemed to be no longer a virtue; but finally, when (in May, 1864) such a resignation was tendered under some aggravation of opposition or of criticism, very much to Chase's surprise the resignation was accepted.

The Secretary had had in train for some months active plans for becoming the Republican candidate for the Presidential campaign of 1864. Evidence had from time to time during the preceding year been brought to Lincoln of Chase's antagonism and of his hopes of securing the leadership of the party. Chase's opposition to certain of Lincoln's policies was doubtless honest enough. He had brought himself to believe that Lincoln did not possess the force and the qualities required to bring the War to a close. He had also convinced himself that he, Chase, was the man, and possibly was the only man, who was fitted to meet the special requirements of the task. Mr. Chase did possess the confidence of the more extreme of the anti-slavery groups throughout the country. His administration of the Treasury had been able and valuable, but the increasing difficulty that had been found in keeping the Secretary of the Treasury in harmonious relations with the other members of the administration caused his retirement to be on the whole a relief. Lincoln came to the conclusion that more effective service could be secured from some other man, even if possessing less ability, whose temperament made it possible for him to work in co-operation. The unexpected acceptance of the resignation caused to Chase and to Chase's friends no little bitterness, which found vent in sharp criticisms of the President. Neither bitterness nor criticisms could, however, prevent Lincoln from retaining a cordial appreciation for the abilities and the patriotism of the man, and, later in the year, Lincoln sent in his nomination as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Chase himself, in his lack of capacity to appreciate the self-forgetfulness of Lincoln's nature, was probably more surprised by his nomination as Chief Justice than he had been by the acceptance of his resignation as Secretary of the Treasury.

In July, 1864, comes a fresh risk of international complications through the invasion of Mexico by a French army commanded by Bazaine, seven years later to be known as the (more or less) hero of Metz. Lotus Napoleon had been unwilling to give up his dream of a French empire, or of an empire instituted under French influence, in the Western Hemisphere. He was still hopeful, if not confident, that the United States would not be able to maintain its existence; and he felt assured that if the Southern Confederacy should finally be established with the friendly co-operation of France, he would be left unmolested to carry out his own schemes in Mexico. He had induced an honest-minded but not very clearheaded Prince, Maximilian, the brother of the Emperor of Austria, to accept a throne in Mexico to be established by French bayonets, and which, as the result showed, could sustain itself only while those bayonets were available. The presence of French troops on American soil brought fresh anxieties to the administration; but it was recognised that nothing could be done for the moment, and Lincoln and his advisers were hopeful that the Mexicans, before their capital had been taken possession of by the invader, would be able to maintain some national government until, with the successful close of its own War, the United States could come to the defence of the sister republic.

The extreme anti-slavery group of the Republican party had, as indicated, never been fully satisfied with the thoroughness of the anti-slavery policy of the administration and Mr. Chase retained until the action of the convention in June the hope that he might through the influence of this group secure the Presidency. Lincoln remarks in connection with this candidacy: "If Chase becomes President, all right. I hope we may never have a worse man." From the more conservative wing of the Republican party came suggestions as to the nomination of Grant and this plan brought from Lincoln the remark: "If Grant takes Richmond, by all means let him have the nomination." When the delegates came together, however, in Baltimore, it was evident that, representing as they did the sober and well-thought-out convictions of the people, no candidacy but that of Lincoln could secure consideration and his nomination was practically unanimous.

The election in November gave evidence that, even in the midst of civil war, a people's government can sustain the responsibility of a national election. The large popular majorities in nearly all of the voting States constituted not only a cordial recognition of the service that was being rendered by Lincoln and by Lincoln's administration, but a substantial assurance that the cause of nationality was to be sustained with all the resources of the nation. The Presidential election of this year gave the final blow to the hopes of the Confederacy.

I had myself a part in a very small division of this election, a division which could have no effect in the final gathering of the votes, but which was in a way typical of the spirit of the army. On the 6th of November, 1864, I was in Libby Prison, having been captured at the battle of Cedar Creek in October. It was decided to hold a Presidential election in the prison, although some of us were rather doubtful as to the policy and anxious in regard to the result. The exchange of prisoners had been blocked for nearly a year on the ground of the refusal on the part of the South to exchange the coloured troops or white officers who held commissions in coloured regiments. Lincoln took the ground, very properly, that all of the nation's soldiers must be treated alike and must be protected by a uniform policy. Until the coloured troops should be included in the exchange, "there can," said Lincoln, "be no exchanging of prisoners." This decision, while sound, just, and necessary, brought, naturally, a good deal of dissatisfaction to the men in prison and to their friends at home. When I reached Libby in October, I found there men who had been prisoners for six or seven months and who (as far as they lived to get out) were to be prisoners for five months more. Through the winter of 1864-65, the illness and mortality in the Virginia prisons of Libby and Danville were very severe. It was in fact a stupid barbarity on the part of the Confederate authorities to keep any prisoners in Richmond during that last winter of the War. It was not easy to secure by the two lines of road (one of which was continually being cut by our troops) sufficient supplies for Lee's army. It was difficult to bring from the granaries farther south, in addition to the supplies required for the army, food for the inhabitants of the town. It was inevitable under the circumstances that the prisoners should be neglected and that in addition to the deaths from cold (the blankets, the overcoats, and the shoes had been taken from the prisoners because they were needed by the rebel troops) there should be further deaths from starvation.

It was not unnatural that under such conditions the prisoners should have ground not only for bitter indignation with the prison authorities, but for discontent with their own administration. One may in fact be surprised that starving and dying men should have retained any assured spirit of loyalty. When the vote for President came to be counted, we found that we had elected Lincoln by more than three to one. The soldiers felt that Lincoln was the man behind the guns. The prison votes, naturally enough, reached no ballot boxes and my individual ballot in any case would not have been legal as I was at the time but twenty years of age. I can but feel, however, that this vote of the prisoners was typical and important, and I have no doubt it was so recognised when later the report of the voting reached Washington.