But forts, my son, however strong, are only inert masses. They cannot fight themselves; and to give them strength and action they require to be properly and fully garrisoned. And the troops in them require to be properly instructed in all their duties. Now, my son, it was a question with the government, which was very timid at that time, whether General George had left, in and around Washington, a force sufficient to make the city perfectly safe when he started on his memorable campaign. It is the opinion of nearly all our best military men that he did. But the politicians got frightened, the government got frightened, and the political generals got frightened. And all the frightened people got their heads together; and they made the President and Secretary of War believe just as they believed—that Washington had been "unarmed," and that Washington was in danger. Yes, my son, our good-hearted President, who was no coward, was sorely troubled about the safety of Washington. And his Secretary of War was also much troubled, as was common with him on the appearance of danger. And the "Chief of Staff" was also in trouble, and went to issuing orders, of a memorable kind, few of which were understood, much less obeyed. The result of all this was that there was great conflict of action. I have no better name to call it by, my son. Hence it was, my son, that our good President halted McDowell, and McDowell's corps. And both looked on from a distance while General George was fighting desperate battles with the enemy. This was the way the War Department carried on the war at that time. Now, my son, it is my purpose to so instruct you that you will know the whole truth concerning the way the war was carried on.

The detention of General McDowell and his corps, while it illustrated the great anxiety of the President and Secretary of War for the safety of Washington, caused the failure of the campaign on the Peninsula. All the sophistry in the world, my son, cannot change that decision.

General George, with his army, was driven to the James River, and as the enemy, then at Richmond, was between him and General Pope, and might strike either at his pleasure, the government's fears about Washington so increased that General George was finally recalled from the James, to save the capital. The result was, as I have told you before, that General Pope was driven back with the wreck of his army to the very gates of the capital, and General George arrived barely in time to save it. Yes, my son, General George, not only so saved the capital, but extricated the government and the Chief of Staff out of the difficulties they had brought on themselves.

When, then, the victorious rebel army turned aside from the fortifications of Washington, and marched triumphantly into Maryland, strong garrisons were left in the forts, and more troops were poured into the city to insure its safety. It was, indeed, resolved by the government, which began now to profit by experience, and by the fact that the capital of the nation had twice been placed in extreme peril, that for the future, come what might, it should at least be made secure. Experienced officers of rank were placed in command of the defenses, north as well as south of the Potomac. The troops were drilled constantly, and soon became good artillerists. They were also instructed in and soon became efficient in the art of defending forts. They studied well, and became familiar with the ground in their front; and, what was more than all, they knew their guns, and how to fight them. I have been very particular concerning these things, my son, because I desire to impress you with their future importance.

But alas for the instability of human resolutions! Washington was to be exposed, after all.

You will remember, my son, how everybody was seized with admiration at the ease with which the great General Grant picked up the Army of the Potomac, and moved off with it against the rebels. That was in the month of May, 1864. It was then that the army moved against Richmond for the last time: that is, not to return to us until it had captured that rebel stronghold.

Grant had not gone far when he met a more stubborn resistance than he had expected, fought a number of desperate and bloody battles, and lost a great many men. Fight and move forward, was his motto, so he resolved not to turn his face towards Washington and his back towards Richmond, as others had done before him. The terrible waste of human life that followed his battles, found him in want of recruits. No reserves of any consequence had been organized, and the government were sorely troubled to find men to fill the thinned ranks of our heroic army. Where were these men to be got from in time to be of service?

Think of it, my son, we had 25,000 instructed artillerists in the forts around Washington. Here was a temptation hard to be resisted. These men could do good service in the field as infantry; and, in an evil hour, it was decided to send them to Grant's army for that purpose.

Then the great question arose, how were their places to be supplied? How were the forts to be defended, in case of attack, without them? It would not do to strip the defenses of all troops, and leave the forts without garrisons. If we did, the enemy would surely find it out, for Washington was full of his spies, and we should come to grief. The President, the cabinet, and all the generals, had resolved, from the first, that that this must never be done, under any contingency.

But what, at the time, was considered a happy thought, seized on the government. I have said a happy thought, my son, but it was a very unwise one. Let the future historian record it, for it is recorded in the dispatches, as well as in the acts of the government.

Yes, my son, it was resolved, first, that Richmond should fall in an hundred days, or at least during the summer; second, that to insure the fall of Richmond within that time, the experienced troops, then in the fortifications of Washington, should be sent to the Army of the Potomac; third, that to replace these and other garrisons, a call should be made on some of the States for 100,000 militiamen, to serve for one hundred days. To the end of developing this grand idea, all the old artillery regiments were sent away to Grant. And their places were filled by an equal number of "hundred days' men," nice and fresh, fresh and green, mostly from the State of Ohio.

I have no doubt, my son, that it will seem strange to you, as it will to all intelligent readers hereafter, that raw troops should have been called to defend the capital in the fourth year of a great war. But the War Department carried on the war according to this method then. The result is not just now very pleasant to contemplate; but it was what ordinary foresight might have predicted. Our error was the enemy's opportunity, and he quickly proceeded to take advantage of it. Washington was in danger, and Washington might have been captured with but little trouble had the enemy sent the right man to command his troops. How near it came being lost, and how accidentally it was saved, I shall record hereafter, for the benefit of the future historian.



CHAPTER XI.

ALARMING SYMPTOMS OF THE ENEMY'S APPROACH.



I KNOW you will be anxious to see a portrait of the distinguished general who was first assigned to the defense of Washington during the siege. And here I have presented you with a very clever one. This general, McDowell McCook, chanced to be in the city, when the government, becoming alarmed, placed him in command, and sent him out to defend the capital. This was unfortunate for the poor gentleman, and he at once became alarmed at finding himself in such a position, and so near the War Department. The poor man knew nothing of the defenses, much less of the roads. And to make the matter worse he had no troops to command. What was a general to do under such circumstances? Although this distinguished general had seen some service, and served his country well in the West, he was in no way qualified to fill the position now assigned him. And I am inclined to accept this as a reason why the government selected him.

But before I proceed further, my son, I must instruct you as to what happened in the Shenandoah Valley just about this time, and which, of right, should constitute a part of the siege of Washington. The troops in the valley had been commanded by no less than four unfortunate generals. Patterson, Banks, Milroy, and Siegel, the last from Germany. Of the many misfortunes of these generals, the historian who comes after me will give you a more enlarged account than I have time or space to do at present. Heaven knows, they were manifold.

When, then, Grant moved against the enemy with the Army of the Potomac, General Franz Siegel was put at the head of a column at Winchester, and marched up the valley with a great flourish of trumpets. This German general was in high feather then, and declared he would drive the rebels before him, like so many chickens, and never stop until he got them all cooped up in Richmond. But the rebels were not inclined to submit to this cooping process. Indeed, they soon discovered that this General Franz Siegel was not so much of a general after all, and that he had an eccentric way of moving his troops. So when he had driven them, as he supposed, to Newmarket, they turned upon him in a very angry manner, gave him battle, defeated him, and forced him back in disorder. This was unfortunate for Siegel, and more unfortunate for his German admirers, who declared him to be the greatest general of modern times. But he had fought this battle so badly that the government for once made up its mind that it would be wisdom not to let him try his hand at another.

Major-General David Hunter was fixed upon as the right man to reform Siegel's disordered army and correct his mistakes. Hunter had patriotism enough, and no man doubted his courage. He was earnest in the defense of right, even zealous in the cause of his country, and quick in the punishment of traitors, with whom he was not in very high favor. The general took command of this disordered army, and so managed as to get a little discipline and some degree of order into it. Now, it has always seemed to me, my son, that you could put a general to no more severe trial than to place him at the head of an army demoralized by the inefficiency of his predecessor and expect him to fight battles and gain victories. And yet General Hunter did this and to the satisfaction of the country. Had he been less active with the torch, his reward in history would have been much higher.

Well, my son, the general marched with his army, and reorganized it as he marched. And he met the enemy, and he fought him, and fought him well, and whipped him well, and drove him back up the valley, to the very gates of Lynchburg. But there, my son, he stopped. His supplies had given out, and the enemy had detached a large force, and sent it to reinforce the rebel army at Lynchburg. Our great Chief of Staff at Washington had promised that this should not be done, without timely notice being sent to Hunter. But it was done, and done without any notice being sent by the Chief of Staff, whose spies were found wanting when most needed. General Sheridan, too, was detached from the Army of the Potomac with two brigades of cavalry, and sent to form a junction with and succor Hunter. But the Chief of Staff failed to send Hunter any information concerning this movement, and hence Hunter was kept in ignorance of its design. Sheridan was driven back before superior numbers, and failed to carry out the plan of his instructions. Had Hunter received information of this movement, he would not only have saved Sheridan from defeat, but, having formed a junction with him near Charlottesville, could leave beaten the enemy and gone where he pleased. So much for what the Chief of Staff ought to have done but did not do.

Of course the gates of Lynchburg were swung wide open, and there was nothing for the famous Early, who commanded the rebel hosts, to do, but to come out and brush Hunter away from before them. And he did this, and more than this. He cut Hunter's communications, and sent him flying over a different road, to the Ohio River, in search of supplies.

And it was now, my son, that the veritable Jubal, known to his old classmates at West Point as the late Mr. Early, saw the road open, and the great prize before him. Scorning, as it were, to pursue Hunter, he marched directly for Washington by the most direct road.

It was early in July, then, when General Early, at the head of his rebel hosts, reached and crossed the Potomac. And this movement sent the people of Washington into a state of great alarm. The southern sympathizers at the capital were in high feather at the prospect of Washington being captured by their friends, the rebels. Magnificent stories were set afloat, the government got into a state of great confusion, and timid people went about shaking their heads, and wondering what the War Department was doing. Everybody wanted to do something, and yet nobody knew what to do. The Chief of Staff sat in his easy chair, and issued orders by the dozen. The Secretary of War ran about excited, and issued orders that conflicted with everybody else's orders. The President, not to be behind either of them, issued orders that agreed with none of them. The great wonder is, that some one of these high officials, so much given to issuing war orders, did not issue a proclamation, warning Mr. Early that it would not be comfortable for him to bring his rebels this way.

I am not prepared to say what effect such a notice would have had on Mr. Early, who turned his column in this direction, and, marching with great rapidity, was in a few days on the banks of the Monocacy. And, as if to increase our alarm, he sent that festive young trooper, Harry Gilmore, galloping down into Maryland, where his old friends received him with open arms, and entertained him sumptuously. Never was hero so entertained by his friends. And when this bold trooper had enjoyed the trip, and shared the hospitality of his friends as much as pleased him, he went to work disturbing our military arrangements. Yes, my son, he captured one of our railroad trains on its way to New York, and all the passengers in it. And, what was worse than all, there was one of our most distinguished major-generals in it, and he was made a prisoner of war by this bold trooper. Thus he cut our communication with the North. He did all this, and walked away leisurely and unmolested. Although his Maryland friends set him up for a great hero, I confess, as there was no one to oppose him, not to see in what his heroism consisted.

As you may naturally suppose, my son, these little affairs increased our alarm greatly. Our authorities, generally, went into a state of perspiration; and would have sent for General Grant and his army to come back and protect us, but for the fear that that general would not read the order correctly. In short, they had already become convinced that Grant was not the man to turn back when there was anything to be made by going ahead. Then our high officials called on the North for help, but called in vain. The North was not inclined to share the fears of our high officials, and had been too often sent for to come and take care of Washington.

It was common with us, then, to keep a lot of third-rate troops scattered around Baltimore; and over Maryland. These were hastily got together, and placed under the command of that famous warrior Lew Wallace. The administration was sure, now, that Mr. Early would get whipped, and that the capital would be saved. There were, however, a few unbelieving people who shook their heads, and were heard to say that General Wallace was not the soldier to drive Mr. Early and his men into the Potomac.

I must do the general the credit, however, to say, that he marched out boldly enough, and engaged Early and his men in battle as soon as he met him. And although he had pluck enough, he was no match for the rebel, who brushed him away before him, and sent his scattered columns flying back into Baltimore, in great distress. Perhaps the only sensible man surprised at this state of things was General Wallace himself.

When those who come after us, my son, shall read of this, it will seem very strange that the fate of Washington, the capital of this great and powerful nation, should have depended on a battle between General Lew Wallace, and his undisciplined troops, on the one side, and Jubal Early and his stonewall troops on the other. And all this in the fourth year of the war.

Now this battle, if it can be dignified with the name, was fought on Saturday, the 9th of July. General Early took no further notice of General Wallace, but started at once for the defenses of Washington. And there was nothing to oppose him until he reached them; and nothing then but some cannon, and some men who did not know how to fire them.

When it got rumored round that the late General Early was not only aiming to besiege Washington, but was not far away from the defenses, there was considerable of a stir made in official circles. Timid people tried to keep their courage up in various ways. Heroes, who had never been out of Washington, now talked like very heroes; and it was intimated that the Treasury Guard would come out, and take the field. Those who had no taste for fighting, and they were many, found it very uncomfortable, because there was no way of getting out of the city.

During the war, my son, I frequently noticed that when a battle was going on at the front there was sure to be a large number of heroes in uniform doing promenade duty on the Avenue. Their number seemed to have increased prodigiously just at this time. It was noticed also that they walked at a more rapid pace than usual, did an uncommon amount of eating and drinking, and had a large number of friends they were always ready to discuss the last battle with. I suppose this was all for the purpose of showing the amount of courage they had.

They were ready enough to go to the front to-day if somebody would only show them the way.

It was now the morning of the 10th of July; and a bright breezy morning it was. The symptoms of the siege now took a positive form and became really alarming. These symptoms were manifested in a singular manner at two prominent points of the defenses. A dilapidated and very much distressed mule, his ears erect and his tail askance, galloped down the road into Tenallytown, making a noise so hideous that the quiet inhabitants ran out in a state of great alarm. They then went to packing up their household goods, their tubs, tables, chairs, and crockery, and getting them ready for removal to a place of safety. In addition to this, the unruly animal sent terror into the very hearts of a number of cavalrymen who were out picketing the distant hills. These gallant troopers put spurs to their horses and never stopped until they got safely into Georgetown, where they circulated numerous stories concerning Mr. Early and his men, who, they declared, had driven them in.

The other remarkable manifestation took place at Brightwood, a sleepy little town composed of four houses and a lamp-post, and situated not far from the city, on the Fourteenth-street road. A distressed cow came bellowing into this town just at daylight, with her head and tail erect, and driving the pickets before her. The antics of this otherwise kindly animal caused a great scattering among the gallant defenders of Fort Stevens. Indeed, I have good authority for saying that they evacuated that stronghold more suddenly than had ever been done before, scampering down the Fourteenth-street road at a rapid pace.

In short, my son, they mistook this wayward animal for Early's advance guard, and came to the very wise conclusion that a fort was not a pleasant place to stay in when an enemy outside was throwing shells into it.

The good people of Brightwood betook themselves to packing up their traps, and pondering over the question as to whether they had been disloyal enough during the war to claim Mr. Early as a friend when he arrived. It was a trying time with the good people of Brightwood.

When, however, the gallant defenders of the defenses found that it was only a cow that had so disturbed them, they went boldly back to their guns, and were as full of courage as could be for the rest of the day.

As the morning wore on, the evidences of trouble outside increased. Scattering contrabands, some with bundles on their backs, some with chairs, buckets and wash-tubs on their heads, others with the family table on their heads. There was an interesting group of three—two male and one female member of the African family. One of the former had brought his banjo, the other his fiddle. The female had a tub well down on her head. These poor frightened people came trotting into the city over the Tenallytown and Brightwood roads, seeking a place of safety inside of the forts.

Then the roads became blocked with all manner of rickety vehicles, many of them of the most primitive description, filled with the families and furniture of peaceable farmers, who had left their homes in fear of the approaching rebels. A more grotesque picture than was presented by this anxious train it is impossible to conceive.



CHAPTER XII.

THE GOVERNMENT GETS AGITATED, AND THE GREAT COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF TAKES THE FIELD.



THIS, my son, is a portrait of General Auger, a dashing, handsome officer, and a courteous gentleman. He commanded the department of Washington during the memorable siege I am describing.

As I have said before, my son, as soon as it was known that General Wallace had been driven back on Baltimore in search of rations, and General Early was close upon Washington, the government waked up to the fact that the capital was in danger, and began to take measures for its defense. Our good President, believing, in the honesty of his heart, that his presence at the front would do good, took the field. And the Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff went to issuing orders that no one seemed to obey. Indeed, their orders only increased the confusion that had already taken possession of everything military. The regular officers in command of the troops in the fortifications, and who knew the location and details of the forts as well as the roads leading to them, were superseded by strangers, ignorant of all these things, and even of what their commands consisted.

Why this was, my son, I cannot explain. Perhaps the Secretary of War will, when he gets his historian, at $2,500 a year, to write a national history of the war. Some malicious people said the Secretary of War had two reasons for this: the first, to show his contempt for military science; the second, because he wanted to show what fools some of these strange generals were. I have also heard it intimated that the reason why some of these strange generals were assigned to such important posts at such a moment of peril to the nation, was because they were of sufficient consequence to be made victims. And as it was always necessary to have a victim to cover up and excuse the blundering of high officials, these men would come in handy enough. But I never considered this a good excuse for thus superseding the officers, the only officers who really knew how to defend the city.

It was not surprising, however, that, with such an opportunity for gaining distinction as the defense of the capital of the nation, major and brigadier-generals should spring up as by magic. Their number was truly marvelous. Nor was it strange that they should all want to be heroes. It was a little queer, however, that they should all be in the city just at this time, and seemingly without employment. Each, on application, was assigned to an important command, though but few of them knew the road to the forts, and fewer still what they were going to command when they got there.

The alarm and confusion continued to increase as General Early and his rebel hosts approached. And now the great question arose as to who was to be regarded as responsible for the safety of the city? Was it the President, the Secretary of War, or the great Chief of Staff? people inquired. No, it could be neither of these, for the President, though frequently seen at the front, seemed only a pleasant observer, and gave no orders to the troops. The Secretary of War and Chief of Staff were issuing orders, as I have before described, and assigning strange generals to commands. It could not be General Auger, for the War Department seemed to have forgotten him, and he remained quietly in command of the department. The Military Governor was discharging the active duties of his office, and so it could not be him. Some persons said General Haskins was the man. He had been in charge of the defenses north of the Potomac, and knew them well. But it could not be him, for he had been superseded by General Hardin; and General McDowell McCook ranked both of them; and, as I have before informed you, was placed in command and sent out to see to General Early.

This, my son, was very hard on General McCook, who found himself in a predicament he would willingly have escaped from. It is no more than right, my son, that I should give you an account of how this general went to the field, and what he found when he got there.

Provided with a pocket full of orders, the general mounted his horse late on Saturday afternoon and set out for the front, over the Fourteenth-street road. The corpulent engineer I have described in the early part of this history was assigned to General McCook for duty; and this officer, and two sorry-looking orderlies, were all that bore him company. The corpulent engineer alone knew the military roads, and the location of the forts, which was very fortunate. As they advanced over the road beyond Meridian Hill, they overtook several straggling generals, each proceeding to the front with a pocket full of orders, and generally accompanied by a single orderly. Two or three of these generals seemed quite at a loss as to where they were going, or what they were to command. I have thus explained this matter to you, my son, to show you what a nice way our war authorities had of producing confusion.

When the general and his staff, which I have described above, were well nigh Brightwood, he halted to inquire, of the alarmed negroes and straggling citizens who were wending their way into the city, what news they had of the enemy outside. But no trustworthy information could he get from any of them. They all knew that General Early was coming; and that they had left just before he had got to where they lived. This sort of information was not exactly the kind a general would consider it safe to base his plan of operations on. Nor was the general any more fortunate in getting information concerning the enemy from a number of squads of cavalry, whose business it seemed to be to ride excitedly to the front and then ride excitedly back again. Indeed, the whole business of these doughty troopers, it seemed to me, was to increase the alarm and confusion.

It was nearly sundown, the weather was hot and oppressive, and the general was full of troubles. The worst of these was that he could not find the troops he was sent to command. Nor could he get any tidings concerning General Early and his rebels. Hence it was that he concluded, and very naturally, that the enemy would not be within sight of the defenses until morning, and that the city would at least be safe until that time without any more of his generalship.

He therefore went into camp for the night, pitching his headquarters in a clump of wood near Rock Creek, and not far from Crystal Spring. And here let me record that the general had not even a camp guard. To make the matter worse, there was no forage for the horses, and nothing for supper. Never was general so much to be pitied. The two orderlies, however, were willing fellows, and soon had a fire lighted. They then proceeded to a neighboring house, and got refreshments for the general, without which he must have gone hungry to bed.

As the night advanced, the discomforts of the situation increased. In short, it may as well be confessed, the general's headquarters were besieged long before midnight, and that sleep was a thing not to be enjoyed. You may have made up your mind that the besiegers were an advance guard of the rebels; but they were not. They were nothing less than an army of fierce musquitoes, who made such a persistent attack on the general and his staff as to make his position almost untenable. In truth, they so harassed the corpulent engineer, in rear and flank, that he mounted his horse and returned to the city, where he spent a comfortable night at Willard's Hotel, and went back in the morning refreshed. My authority for this is the distinguished engineer himself.

A little after midnight, the two orderlies became seriously alarmed (I ought to mention that one was recently from Cork, and the other from Kerry), and reported to the general that a conversation was being carried on in an unknown language by two persons in the woods beyond, and whom they verily believed to be spies of the enemy. The general was not a little perplexed at this intelligence, for the better informed orderly declared, that while one shouted in very bad Irish, the other seemed to answer him in Dutch. The general listened attentively for a minute or more, when the noise was again heard. It turned out, however, that the intruders were only a pair of owls, who had perched in some trees near by, and were exchanging hootings for their own entertainment.



CHAPTER XIII.

THE KIND OF REINFORCEMENTS WE HAD TO DEFEND THE CITY.



THIS is an exact portrait of General Jubal A. Early, who was sent to capture Washington, but arrived a little too late.

There was great excitement in the city during Sunday, the 10th of July, and strange stories were set afloat concerning the arrival of General Early, and his rebel army. There was also great excitement in and around the forts north of the city. The hundred-day men did not feel themselves safe in the forts, and those outside were making a desperate effort to keep their courage up.

We had heroes enough in the city, but the great question was, how we were to get them organized, provisioned, armed, and sent to the front in time to be of service. The District militia, which we have all heard so much of and seen so little, was not enrolled, and, of course, could not be made available. It was said there would be some desperate fighting done if the Treasury Guard only got to the front. This valuable body of distinguished heroes was composed of nice young men, who wore fine linen and patent leather boots, and in appearance were unexceptionable.

It was a trying time for the nation, my son, and the young men of this Treasury Guard felt that they had a duty to perform in defending the capital, and must perform it with courage. There was one little drawback, however, to their conduct as soldiers; and that was, that each man wanted to go to the front encumbered with a carpet bag, filled with sandwiches and clean shirts. Aside from this, let me say, the guard was got in order for marching, and their gallant commander, Colonel Floyd A. Willett, made a speech, in which he declared there was not a chicken-hearted man in his ranks. And when it marched for the front, which it did with drums beating, its gallant colonel at its head, and Corporal Spinner, of Company B, bringing up the rear, there was many a tear shed and handkerchief waved by the pretty female clerks of the Department. Many of these damsels had more than a friendly interest in these young heroes, who they averred would never come back, but whiten the battle-field with their bones.

As the War Department has not yet condescended to give us a report in detail of the defense of Washington, I cannot inform you, my son, of the heroic part performed by this distinguished body of nice young men. There was a rumor that they returned to the city, after the siege, in a very hungry condition; but had been so saving of their powder and lead as not to waste a single round.

Now, our quartermaster-general was not to be beaten by any of them when there was a chance for glory. Seeing the Treasury Guard march off with so much courage and determination, the general mounted his war horse, and assembled a whole brigade of his employees, as gallant fellows as ever took the field, notwithstanding little could be said of their discipline or soldierly appearance. This gallant brigade was called the Bushwhackers, in contradistinction to the Beef-eaters of the War Department. There was no mistaking this brigade, for it was armed with muskets and bill-hooks. As it moved off for the front, as it did with no very regular step, there was a sight seldom seen. How else could it be, with our gallant quartermaster-general at its head, and General Rucker bringing up the rear! After a rapid march of four miles, the brigade reached the front; and as no enemy was in sight, and there was no use for their powder, the men went energetically to work, and did good service in clearing away the bushes in front of the forts, so that our gallant defenders could have an unobstructed view of the rebels as soon as they made their appearance. This was a very happy thought; one for which the quartermaster-general deserved the brevet he afterwards got.

You will see by this, my son, that we were fast getting our gallant defenders to the front. And now all that was needed to afford them an opportunity to show themselves heroes was General Early and his army of rebels.

I must also inform you that Provost-Marshal Todd, Captain and A. D. C., had got a company of his men to the front, lying in ambush for the rebels.

There was still another, and equally important force to be added to our defenders. This was a brigade of what was called Ancient Mariners, got together by that solid old salt, Admiral Goldsborough. The admiral was brim-full of pluck, and his name had become famous for not fighting the rebels afloat. Here was an opportunity to give them a broadside or two ashore, and the admiral was not the man to let it slip through his fingers. Indeed, he sounded his war trumpet as quick as any of them, and when he had piped his Ancient Mariners to arms, he told them that God and their country demanded them to do their duty.

"Aye, aye!" responded the Ancient Mariners; "we will do it, we will."

When the gallant admiral had got his "Ancient Mariners" ready to march, armed with cutlass and various other well-known weapons, he placed himself at their head and moved out to meet the enemy. His manner of doing this, however, was somewhat novel, and deserves to be described here. You must know, my son, that the admiral was of a very rotund figure, and, although well enough at home on the quarter-deck, was not accustomed to the saddle. His weight was, indeed, such as to preclude the idea of his being a skilled horseman. It was, therefore, necessary that he go to the field in some more comfortable as well as becoming manner. Thereupon a carriage and four was provided, and in this stately manner the gallant admiral proceeded to the front, at the head of his strange command. I may add also, my son, that the movement of this force afforded no little amusement to the numerous urchins that followed it. On reaching the front, it took up a strong position, and made ready to give the enemy a broadside whenever he made his appearance. Some mischievous person reported that it was the intention of these "Ancient Mariners" to support the cavalry, in the event of its being attacked. Having brought them to the front, however, we must leave them there, the quartermaster with his spy-glass keeping a sharp look out for any stray craft that might appear in the offing.

I have been thus minute in describing these forces, in order that you may form a just estimate of what General McDowell McCook had to command.

Sunday passed away, and there was no appearance of General Early and his army. Still the excitement in the city had not abated. Our good President, I must tell you, was out along the lines nearly all day, with the apparent purpose of encouraging the feeble garrisons in the forts.

Early on Monday morning (the 11th of July, 1864), the smoke and dust of the rebel column rose in the distance, and was clearly seen from the defenses. News of this soon spread about, and our cavalry got more and more excited, and went galloping out and then came galloping in at an increased rate of speed.

Then the enemy's long, thin line of skirmishers debouched into the fields, like specter figures in a panorama. Next his artillery was seen moving to the right and left, and apparently taking up positions on the distant hills. These were followed by his hungry troopers, very dirty and forlorn, and looking like shadowy figures just issuing from a desert of dust. The movements of these rebels in the distance gave new features to the face of the siege. General McDowell McCook was seen to ride rapidly over the field, followed by his two orderlies. Generals Meigs and Rucker urged on their Bushwhackers, who went to work with renewed energy clearing up the forest. The "Ancient Mariners" whetted their cutlasses, and continued to exhaust their ordnance, a large stock of which they had brought to the field in the shape of tobacco. And the Treasury Guard stopped eating sandwiches and looked to their ammunition. In fine, our gallant defenders went to getting their courage up in various ways. Our good President (may his memory never die!) took up a position near Fort Stevens, as if to encourage the hundred-day men to stand by their guns and keep their pluck warm.

A little after noon there was a material change in the situation. The enemy's advance skirmishers made their appearance within range of Fort Stevens and began a miscellaneous firing. Then our own cannon opened, and their echoes over the hills first sounded the alarm and awakened the people of the city from their dream of security. There were as yet no really efficient troops to send to defend the point of attack. The people knew that between them and the enemy there were strong and heavily armed forts; and in these they placed their trust. They did not, however, reflect that these forts, without proper garrisons, were only so many inert masses, incapable of resisting for one hour the vigorous assault of an enemy. But it was very different with the military authorities. As the rattle of small arms and the booming of cannon increased during Monday evening and night, they knew that the city was in peril, and their anxiety for its safety increased. They knew that the forts were not properly garrisoned. They knew that communication with the North was cut off, that no reinforcements from that quarter could be relied on. Further, that although reinforcements from General Grant's army had been ordered up from the James River, they had not had time to arrive.

Such was our situation on that memorable Monday night. Yes, my son, such was the feeble condition of the defenses when General Early and his rebel army came in sight of the dome of the Capitol. We all looked confidently for an attack in force on Tuesday morning. Had it been made by a column of ten thousand men, led by a bold and determined commander, capable of infusing his own impulse into their movements, they might, feebly garrisoned as the forts were at that moment (with no support between or behind them), have treated our defenses with contempt, and marched into the city.

Yes, my son, they could have marched almost unmolested between any two of the forts, entered the city, seized the Arsenal, the Capitol, the Treasury, and other public buildings, and enjoyed a bounteous breakfast at the expense of our citizens. And when they had done this, they might have enforced a legitimate surrender of the city, together with the defenses on both sides of the river.

But General Jubal A. Early was not the man for such an enterprise. Washington was at his mercy, but fortunately for us he did not know it, and let the opportunity slip. Even had he known it, I am of opinion that he lacked the nerve to grasp the advantages of the opportunity. On that Tuesday morning, Early was at Silver Springs, enjoying the luxuries of a spacious headquarters, and within sight of the grand old dome of the Capitol. What strange emotions the sight of this dome must have excited in his bosom, what reminiscences of happier days passed under its shadow must have seared his thoughts as they passed in review, he alone can describe. Perhaps it was the contemplation of those happier days that stayed his hand and made him hesitate to grasp the prize at his feet.

No, my son, Jubal A. Early was of too phlegmatic a temperament for such an undertaking. He was slow in every thing but name. And, as I have informed you before, so notoriously cautious and slow was he to act, even when a youth at West Point, that he gained the sobriquet of "The Late Early," by which he is known at this day by his intimate friends.

How sad it is for us, to-day, to contemplate that the safety of Washington, the capital of this great country, should have depended on the temperament of a general. Let the future historian do this subject justice and elaborate it as it deserves. And let him portray, if he can, the consequences of the rebel flag greeting the rays of the rising sun on that morning victoriously from the dome of the Capitol.



CHAPTER XIV.

HOW THE REBEL GENERALS DEPORTED THEMSELVES.



THIS history would not be complete, my son, without a portrait of General John C. Breckinridge. This general accompanied General Early, in command of a division, and was extremely useful as a subordinate, since he knew Washington and all its surroundings, and had many friends in the city, whose respect and hospitality he had enjoyed. What curious emotions must have excited his breast when he saw the dome of that building where he had sat as a Senator, and by his talents and deportment secured the respect and confidence of the nation, I will leave the reader to imagine. Who but himself can describe his thoughts when he recurred to that scene in the Senate Chamber, when he raised the voice of prophecy and foreshadowed the traitor's reward? Was there a pang in the thought that he was himself reaping the bitterest fruit of that reward?

Never forget, my son, how terrible is the penalty that attaches to treason. But now I must ask you to reaccompany me to another part of the field, that we may see what is going on there. The attack made on our defenses by the rebels was of the feeblest kind. Why this was, some of our officers could not understand. It was evidently made in doubt of the result, and indicated forcibly enough that something was wrong at the rebel headquarters. We want now to see what that was.

While the booming of cannon and the rattle of small arms was going on in the vicinity of Fort Stevens, without any very serious damage to either side (for I may mention here that the rebels kept at a respectful distance from the forts), Generals Early, Ewell, and Breckinridge were enjoying themselves on the sumptuous fare found at Silver Springs and other neighboring plantations. In short, it is asserted that these generals had been short of rations for some days, and were very hungry when they reached the outskirts of Washington. It is also asserted that they took themselves to feasting and making merry with their friends; so much so that they had all the cellars and larders of the houses round about examined for bounties to supply their table. And to such an extent was this feasting and merrymaking carried, that General Early quite forgot that he was sent to capture Washington, and indeed set such a bad example to his subordinates as to destroy all discipline.

There were two great events in this remarkable siege, my son, and I must tell you what they were. If I do not, you will not get a clear idea of how the siege was carried on by the rebels. The generals (rebel) had not tasted fresh beef for several days, and had a sharp appetite which their commissaries were inclined to gratify. Now, there was on the plantation of Mr. George Riggs, near where these generals had their headquarters, a celebrated Alderney bull, much valued by its owner. Here was a temptation not to be resisted by these commissaries, who had the animal led to slaughter and served up for their masters. Yes, my son, these generals and their staffs banqueted on Mr. Riggs's bull, and were honest enough to confess that they had rarely fared so sumptuously. This is one of the great events. Now to the other. A number of general officers (choice spirits), imitating the example set by their bold superiors, went out on a forage of their own, and coming to the house of the Hon. Montgomery Blair, put it under a close examination, especially the cellar and larder, which was supposed to be well stored with the choicest. They were disappointed, however, to find that the cellar contained little wine, and were about setting the honorable owner down for a disciple of temperance, when they came upon a barrel of rare old Bourbon whisky.

This discovery caused great rejoicing, the news of it spread far and wide among the officers, and not an order was obeyed for the rest of the day. So you will see, my son, that while the superior generals and their staffs were banqueting on Mr. Riggs's bull, the field officers were besieging their brains with Mr. Blair's choice whisky. The city was perfectly safe while this state of revelry existed. And I feel, my son, that you will agree with me that Mr. Blair deserves well of his country for supplying his cellar with this remarkable weapon of defense. Let the future historian bear in mind that the War Department can claim no credit for the safety of Washington. The credit of saving Washington belongs exclusively to Mr. Riggs's bull and Mr. Montgomery Blair's barrel of whisky. They furnished the feast that stole away the brains of General Early's officers, and caused the delay that saved the city.

In fine, my son, I have good military authority for saying that these rebel officers, after their wisdom had been carried away by the whisky, put on ladies' dresses and so conducted themselves that General Early, in order to get them out, and put a stop to the riotous proceedings, was compelled to apply the torch to the house of Mr. Blair. Let this sad result be a warning to all generals, sent to either threaten or capture the capital of a nation.

Have I not satisfied you, my son, that Mr. Davis sent the wrong man to take Washington? A more sanguine general, knowing that he had been sent from Richmond to threaten and, if possible, capture Washington, and having come so far and routed all the troops sent to oppose him, and arrived within sight of the coveted prize, at a time when he must have known the weakness of the defenses, would have risked an attack in force and would have succeeded. I say he would have succeeded; for, by all the rules of war, the capital ought to have fallen. Let it be remembered also, that during that memorable Tuesday, when the rattle of small arms and the booming of cannon from Fort Stevens were calling patriotic citizens to the front to do their duty, the engineer-in-chief and other of the high officials of the War Department were busy packing up the records of their offices, preparatory to their removal to the gunboats.

The attack, which had been so confidently expected on Tuesday morning, did not take place. General Early and his officers still continued their riotous proceedings near Silver Springs, while his advance line kept our gallant defenders in a state of intense excitement and activity. As hour after hour wore away, however, the anxiety of our people increased, in fear of what might happen.

Then late in the afternoon news came that the brave old Sixth Corps—a terror to rebels everywhere—had arrived. This sent a thrill of joy into many a heart, and shout after shout went up along the line as its cross came in sight. Yes, the old Sixth Corps, with General Wright, had come once more. It was a proud sight to see these men deploy into line of battle, in front of Fort Stevens, their war-worn colors fluttering in the breeze, with that cross so well known to the rebel hosts.

The siege was raised. The rebels recognized that cross, and, knowing what it betokened, fell back rapidly before it, and prepared for a hasty retreat. Confidence was restored to the people. The President thanked the troops and went home in the very best humor. The Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff stopped issuing orders; and the quartermaster's bushwhackers hung up their bill-hooks. The major and brigadier-generals went to congratulating each other on the part they had taken in the defense. At two o'clock on Wednesday morning, an advance was ordered with the two divisions of the Sixth Corps; but when the skirmish line took possession of Silver Springs, there was not a rebel in arms to be seen. General Early had made good speed during the night, and was making the best of his way across the Potomac, and home to his master.

Thus ended the most remarkable siege history has any account of.

And now, my son, I cannot close this history without a few words on the character and conduct of Mr. Jefferson Davis, to whose ambition this siege of our capital was due. It has been said by several of his friends, who have access to the newspapers, that he went into this war not only very reluctantly, but with green spectacles on. Willing as I am to deal generously with him, and to forgive him each and every one of his sins, and to send him out into the world to seek atonement for them, I cannot share this opinion. And for the reason that I happened to know Mr. Davis in the summer of 1850, when he was the moving spirit of a convention of "Fire-Eaters," that assembled together at Nashville, Tenn. And I have a slight recollection of a speech he made on that occasion, in which separation by arms was urged, and no love for the Union advanced. I remember also that that speech was rewarded with hisses, notwithstanding the strong dis-union element of the convention. His dislike of the Union and plan for separating the nation, it is well known, had been the besetting sin of his brain for twenty years. How, then, he could have engaged in this gigantic rebellion with green spectacles on, I cannot just exactly see. It was the ignorant, unreasoning masses of the South who were led into the rebellion with green spectacles on, not men like Mr. Davis. But, my son, never strike a man when he is down; that is the work of cowards. Let us give Mr. Davis credit for such virtues as he had, and for the manner in which he exerted them in keeping life and strength in the government he attempted to set up. In connection with the rebellion, we had to deal with Mr. Davis more in his character as a soldier than a statesman. Mr. Davis was undoubtedly an able soldier. He was the head and front, the very life and soul of the men in the South. Born to those qualities of pride, self-esteem, and self-will, all of which produce confidence in the possessor, he grew up feeling himself superior, as he was, to the ordinary men of his age. He inherited at the same time great fixedness of purpose and determination; and so prominent were these traits of his character, that they impressed every one who came in contact with him.

These, my son, were the attributes that gave wings to the man's ambition and found him aspiring to one of the high places in the temple of fame. The nation gave him a thorough military education at West Point, and he afterwards learned the practical duties of a soldier in the Black Hawk war. On the return of peace, he resigned and sought distinction in political life. He had succeeded in reaching the House of Representatives when the war with Mexico broke out, and he resigned and again went to the field. And, notwithstanding what has been said to the contrary, he won great distinction in this war. Military men everywhere did him justice. The "Mississippi Rifles" will be remembered as long as the battle of Buena Vista.

At the close of the war he again relinquished the sword, and was sent to the United States Senate, where he was made chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs. His highest ambition was to shine as a statesman. He afterwards served four years as Secretary of War, and then returned to the Senate, where the rebellion found him elevated to the chairmanship of the Committee of Military Affairs. His education, his services in the army, his position as Secretary of War, and in the Senate, enabled him to become thoroughly acquainted with our army, with its customs, its laws, its material, its wants, and, above all, the character of its officers. He was, perhaps, better acquainted with these things than any other man in the United States. Nor was he deficient in knowledge of the character of leading, public men at the North and West. What he had not studied well, however, was the character and the patriotism of the people of those sections of our country.

THE END