THE SILENT CAPTAIN 93 people, are his peace! Your bells, and bands, and muffled drums sound triumph in his ear. Wail and weep here; God makes it echo joy and triumph there. THE SILENT CAPTAIN GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS This extract is taken from an oration delivered at West Point, N. Y., October 21, 1868, at the dedication of the statue of Major-General John Sedgwick. It is here reprinted by special permission from the "Orations and Addresses of George William Curtis." Copyright, 1894, by Harper & Brothers. On April 30, 1864, President Lincoln wrote to Lieutenant-General Grant, "And now, with a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain you." And, indeed, if the names of those who win battles that save civilization are dear to the heart of man, how cherished will be that of the taciturn, tenacious soldier whom nothing could shake off from success! Neither the tool of political tricksters nor the dupe of his own ambition, he showed himself, in the final campaign, the true type of American genius in action. Grimly in earnest, he knew that war is not conciliation, and that the rebellion was to be suppressed, and suppressed only, by the destruction of rebel life and rebel supplies. He knew that he could better lose a hundred lives than the rebellion could lose fifty; and he knew also that terrible sacrifice was the least bloody road to peace. Breaking up on the Rapidan, early in May, he forced his fiery way through the Wilderness-and was called a butcher. By terrible blows he drove the enemy, by swift and silent marches he flanked him and was called a blunderer. By one of the most masterly and daring of military movements his resistless will threw his whole army over the James, and forced the enemy into his capital-and he was called incapable. The roses of June faded and the victory was not won. The bells of the Fourth of July died away, and the victory was not won. The auxiliary operations in the Shenandoah failed; those to the south of Richmond miscarried; public impatience grew, and passionate doubt and despondency clouded the summer. "Will he do it?" asked, in whispers, the lovers of liberty. "He'll do no more," shouted the exultant friends of the rebellion. They did not know the man. They did not remember Vicksburg; they did not remember Chattanooga. "I shall fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer," was the only reply. It did take all summer. It took all winter. But he fought it out, and followed that line to victory. Undismayed by delay, undisturbed by impatience, holding Richmond in both hands, he ordered Thomas to annihilate Hood-and he did it. He ordered Terry to take Fort Fisher - and he took it. He ordered Sheridan to sweep the Shenandoah - and he swept it clean. And Sherman-where was he? Suddenly the thick clouds of loyal doubts and fears and of rebel rumors parted, and revealed Sherman sauntering through Georgia, eating turkeys and sweet potatoes. Like a gnat, Wade Hampton hovered upon his path, THE SILENT CAPTAIN 95 trying to sting, and was brushed away. A gust of Wheeler's cavalry blew off Kilpatrick's hat. Fort McAllister crumbled at Sherman's touch. Hardee stole from Savannah like a thief in the night. The terror of Sherman's presence a hundred miles away emptied Charleston of rebel troops, as when a huge craft passes in the river the waters recede from the distant lands. Across Georgia, across South Carolina, into North Carolina, he moved unopposed, spreading his terrible wings and scourging the land with fire. Then, with the accumulated force of fragments, Johnston dashed against one of his arms at Bentonville. Sherman threw him prostrate in the dust with one hand, and stretched out the other to grasp that of his great commander on the James. The silent captain by the river, still holding his antagonist fast in his capital, had now shown, by the end of March, that the army of that antagonist was the rebellion, and he prepared to strike. At the extreme left of his line the sting of the swift and fiery Sheridan struck the enemy first. He winced and suddenly recoiled. But sharper grew the sting, swifter and more fiery, until the word came, "Sheridan is sweeping all before him from the West!" Then the genius of the great captain, seconded by the tireless valor of his soldiers, lightened all along the line, struck everywhere at once, burst over the enemy's works, crushed his ranks, forced his retreat, and at the same moment the master, loosening his victorious columns in pursuit, checked the rebel flight, and overwhelmed Lee and his army as the Red Sea engulfed Pharaoh and his host. So opened and closed the great campaign. So the Army of the Potomac, often baffled, struck an immortal blow, and gave the right hand of fellowship to their brethren of the West. So the silent captain, when all his lieutenants had secured their separate fame, put on the crown of victory and ended civil war. THE RECONSTRUCTED REPUBLIC HENRY WATTERSON Taken from an oration delivered at the opening of the Columbian Exposition, Chicago, Ill., October 21, 1892. Printed by permission. Then came a day when the spirits of the fathers no longer walked upon the battlements of freedom, and all was dark; all seemed lost, save liberty and honor and, praise God, our blessed Union. Truly out of trial comes the strength of man; out of disaster comes the strength of the state! The curse of slavery is gone. It was a joint heritage of woe, to be wiped out and expiated in blood and flame. The mirage of the Confederacy has vanished. It was essentially bucolic, a vision of Arcadia, the dream of a most attractive economic fallacy. The exact relation of the states to the Federal Government has been clearly and definitely fixed by the last three amendments to the original chart, which constitute the real treaty of peace between the North and the South, and seal our bonds as a nation forever. The Republic represents at last the letter and the spirit of the sublime THE RECONSTRUCTED REPUBLIC 97 Declaration. The fetters that bound her to the earth are burst asunder. The rags that degraded her beauty are cast aside. Like the enchanted princess in the legend, clad in spotless raiment and wearing a crown of living light, she steps in the perfection of her maturity upon the scene of this the latest and proudest of her victories to bid a welcome to the world! Need I pursue the theme? This vast assemblage speaks with a resonance and meaning which words can never reach. There is no geography in American manhood. There are no sections to American fraternity. The South claims Lincoln, the immortal, for its own; the North has no right to reject Stonewall Jackson, the one typical Puritan soldier of the war, for its own! Nor will it! The time is coming, is almost here, when hanging above many a mantel-board in fair New England-glorifying many a cottage in the sunny Southshall be seen bound together in everlasting love and honor two cross-swords carried to battle respectively by the grandfather who wore the blue and the grandfather who wore the gray. God bless our country's flag! And God be with us, now and ever, God in the rooftree's shade and God on the highway, God in the winds and waves, and God in all our hearts! |