Produced by Christian Boissonnas, The Online Distributed
Internet Archive)

[Illustration: SHERIDAN'S RIDE TO THE FRONT.]

  PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS

  OF

  DISTINGUISHED GENERALS.

  BY

  WILLIAM F. G. SHANKS.

  NEW YORK:
  HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
  FRANKLIN SQUARE.
  1866.

  Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
  eight hundred and sixty-six, by

  HARPER & BROTHERS,

  In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District
  of New York.

PREFACE.

The purpose of this volume is to make more familiar to the general
public the actual characters of some of our great military leaders
during the late war. I have attempted to portray them not as on
parade, but in undress uniform, and to illustrate not only their great
military qualities, but more particularly their mental peculiarities
and characteristics. These pages will be found to contain many facts
about some of the great battles which official reports have left
untold, with such recollections of our generals as history proper
will not perhaps condescend to record, and to embrace singular facts
about great campaigns and strange stories of great men. The portraits
are freely drawn. They are made from actual studies, if not special
sittings, and while taking care to give every beauty, I have omitted
none of the deformities or blemishes of my subjects, though I have
told in full detail their virtues, and have touched on their faults
and vices lightly. I have avoided alike extreme extravagance in
praise or censure. Still there is enough shadow to the pictures to
give the necessary, if not agreeable contrast to the lights. The
reader must not, however, mistake the stand-point from which I have
written. Distance, unfortunately for truth, lends enchantment not
only to objects, but to men. The atmosphere of Olympus produces many
phantasmagoria, and the great at a distance exist to our eyes in a sort
of mirage. The philosophy of perspective as applied to natural objects
is reversed when applied to mankind, and there are very few men who
do not grow smaller as one approaches them. Most men are pyramidal in
shape only, not proportions. "No man is a hero to his valet." Even
Jupiter was ridiculous at times to Homer. Very few generals have
appeared great to the war correspondents; and though very few of the
latter can claim to be descendants of Diogenes, they can assert, with
equal positiveness, that very few of the generals have been Alexanders,
and that "the very sun shines through them." I have written under the
disadvantage of being too near the objects drawn; and those who do not
know the subjects as well may imagine I have made them undeservedly
Liliputian in dimensions.

Writing contemporaneous history is the most thankless of tasks, and I
discover also one of the least independent of labors. Still I have not
written with a goose-quill, and there has been some gall in my ink, yet
I do not think I have any thing in the ensuing chapters to blot. I do
not think I have done any man injustice. I have written many sentences
and made many assertions which will doubtless be termed strong, but
in writing these I am only the amanuensis of truth; and I write with
the firm belief that "historical truth should be only less sacred than
religious truth."

I have no doubt, however, that others will think differently after
perusing the book. When publishing in Harper's Magazine I was told that
the language of some of these sketches offended the subjects, but I
have been unable to find any fact that ought to be stated otherwise. I
think it best to say, for the benefit of all who may choose to object
or condemn the volume as now published, that I have written nothing
that I do not believe to be true--I trust not one sentence that, dying,
I would wish to blot, and certainly not one word that, living, I intend
to retract.

  NEW YORK, _Sept., 1866_.

CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER I.

  SHERMAN AS A STRATEGIST.

  The most original Character developed by the War.--No Parallel for
  Sherman.--His nervous Energy the secret of his great Success.
  --Incidents illustrative of his great Energy.--Restlessness of Manner
  and nervousness of Expression in Conversation.--His bad Temper.
  --Appearance in Battle and under Excitement.--Vigorous Style as a
  Writer.--He ought to have been a War Correspondent rather than a
  General.--The Story of his Lunacy.--How it originated.--Method in
  his Madness.--Habit of Decision.--How he came to leave the Law
  and return to the Army.--His uncontrollable Temper nearly Ruins
  him.--The Quarrel with Halleck and Stanton.--Failure as a Tactician
  and Disciplinarian.--All his Battles Defeats.--Never won a
  Battle.--His great strategic Marches.--The Campaign of Atlanta
  his greatest Achievement.--Joe Johnston a Foeman worthy of his
  Steel.--Sherman's Egotism.--His dislike for Correspondents and
  independence of the Press mere Affectation.--Nicknames bestowed on
  him by the Soldiers.--An inveterate Smoker.--His personal Appearance
                                                                Page 17

  CHAPTER II.

  THOMAS AS A TACTICIAN.

  Sherman and Thomas match Horses.--A Contrast drawn between them.
  --Methodical Habits of Thomas.--System necessary to his Existence.
  --Fury of his Anger when aroused.--Great Self-control and Coolness
  in Danger.--Illustrative Incidents of his Imperturbability.
  --Cold-blooded upon Principle.--He Studies to avoid the display of
  his Emotions.--Personal Description and Habits in Camp.--His tactical
  Ability.--Affection of his Soldiers for Thomas.--The Bayard of the
  Army.--His uniform Success as a Commander.--Thomas entitled to the
  Credit of Sherman's March to the Sea.--The Battles of that Campaign
  fought at Nashville by Thomas.--The Battle at Nashville his
  greatest Action                                                    58

  CHAPTER III.

  GRANT AS A GENERAL.

  The proper Conception of his Character.--Grant a Combination of
  Sherman and Thomas.--Contrasted with Lee.--Resemblance between Grant
  and Sherman.--Energy of both.--Comparison between Grant and
  Thomas.--The Persistence and Tenacity of each.--Grant's
  Practicability and Magnanimity.--His Taciturnity.--His Idea of
  Strategy.--His numerous Battles the most successful and important of
  the War.--Campaign at Chattanooga and Knoxville.--The remarkable
  Campaign to the Rear of Richmond the most brilliant of the War.--His
  great Vice, a Habit of Smoking.--His great Weakness, a Love of
  Horses.--Grant and Sherman as Damon and Pythias.--His Generosity
  to his Subordinates.--Superiority to his principal Leaders.--What his
  Character in the Future will be                                    91

  CHAPTER IV.

  SHERIDAN AS A CAVALRYMAN.

  The Union Cause rich in its Leadership.--The Rebellion very weak.
  --Sheridan one of the most able of our Leaders.--A Miracle of War.
  --An Inspiration rather than a General.--A "Fighting" General.
  --Reminiscences of his Youth.--His Career as a "belligerent Cadet" at
  West Point.--His Class-mates and their Success.--Sheridan and Hood
  compared.--Sheridan's early Career as a Lieutenant and Failure as a
  Quarter-master.--A Favorite with both Grant and Halleck.--Sheridan a
  Colonel of Cavalry.--His first Cavalry Victory.--Promoted Brigadier
  General of Infantry.--Repeated Defeats as a Commander of Infantry.
  --His Failures at Stone River and Chickamauga.--Success in Pursuit of
  Bragg from Tullahoma and at Chattanooga.--Promoted to the Command of
  all Grant's Cavalry.--His Success in this Capacity.--The Belligerent
  in his Organization.--Personal Appearance and Habits.--A modern
  Scipio                                                            128

  CHAPTER V.

  FIGHTING JOE HOOKER.

  General Hooker a Cosmopolitan.--Naturally "a Fighting General."
  --Career in Mexico.--Difficulties in obtaining a Command.--His
  inspiring Presence.--Critical Account of his "Battle above the
  Clouds."--He manufactures the Clouds in order to fight above them.
  --His Weakness consists in his Disposition to criticise every thing.
  --His Candor.--Opinion of McClellan.--"The young Napoleon conducting
  War in order to get into the best Society."--Hooker's Vanity and
  Valor.--How he obtained a Command.--Sharp Criticisms in official
  Reports.--Hooker's Criticism on Sherman.--His untiring Energy.--The
  Title of Fighting Joe offensive to him.--How it was obtained.
  --Personal Description and Habits                                 165

  CHAPTER VI.

  RECOLLECTIONS OF ROUSSEAU.

  Strategic _versus_ fighting Generals.--Strategy always an Excuse for
  military Failures.--Four fighting Generals compared.--Rousseau
  naturally a Leader of Men.--His early Career.--He Acts as "the Member
  from Louisville, Kentucky," in the Indiana Senate.--Always in the
  Minority and always Popular.--Adventures in Kentucky as a criminal
  Lawyer.--Success as a special Pleader.--Startling Adventure in
  Defense of four Negroes charged with Murder.--Election to the
  Kentucky State Senate.--The true Story of Kentucky Neutrality.--Simon
  Bolivar Buckner and his Schemes.--How they were frustrated by
  Rousseau.--Denunciation of Neutrality.--Forcing an Issue.--Division
  of the State Guard into two rival Organizations.--Defection of the
  "Lexington Chasseurs."--How Rousseau obtained Authority to raise
  Troops for the United States Service.--Opposition of the neutral
  Union Men to his Scheme.--How he overcame their Objections.--Himself
  and Troops exiled.--Singular Scenes in the neutral State.--Recruiting
  for both Armies in the same City.--Sad Divisions created in Families.
  --A Rebel and Union Praying-match.--The News of the Bull Run Disaster
  in Louisville.--The Secessionists take Possession of the City.--A
  Riot instantaneously quelled.--A Peace Meeting turned to a War
  Gathering.--Rousseau's Parade through Louisville.--Buckner's
  traitorous Scheme, and what was to have been effected by it.--Attempt
  to seize the City.--Rousseau saves it from Capture.--A neutral
  Editor's History of Neutrality.--Popularity of Rousseau with his
  People.--His military Career.--Great Daring at Perryville.--Incidents
  of that Battle.--Admiration of his Men for Rousseau.--New Mode of
  taking Care of Prisoners.--Sherman's Idea of Rousseau's Raid to the
  Rear of Hood's Army.--Return to political Life.--His Crusade against
  Slavery.--Intimacy between Rousseau and Sherman.--Personal Appearance
  of Rousseau                                                       193

  CHAPTER VII.

  PECULIARITIES OF VARIOUS GENERALS.

  General Don Carlos Buell.--One of the greatest Generals, also one of
  the greatest Failures of the War.--Buell too methodical to be
  practical.--Weakness of his Army Organization.--Three Corps
  Commanders without Ability.--Perryville a Battle lost by Jealousy of
  our Commanders.--Quarrel between Buell and Governor Johnson of
  Tennessee.--The true Story of the proposed Evacuation of Nashville.
  --Thomas and Buell compared.--William Starke Rosecrans a great
  Failure.--His utter Incompetency.--His extreme Nervousness unfitting
  him for a Command.--His Campaign of Chickamauga one Series of
  Mistakes.--The Battle an unnecessary Slaughter.--The worst managed
  Battle of the War.--Rosecrans not on the Field.--Gordon Granger's
  Peculiarities.--His Predilection for artillery Fights.--His
  Resemblance to Joe Hooker.--Retort upon Sherman.--"Living off the
  Country."--His Opinion of Gideon Pillow and "painted Mules."--Grief
  at the Death of Captain Russell.--"Old Steady" Steedman one of the
  most positive Men of the War.--His Boldness and Impudence.--Daring
  Charge at Chickamauga.--His March from Chattanooga to Nashville to
  ask for Orders.--His Faith in Negro Troops.--Generals Wood and
  Negley the Victims of Chickamauga.--Military Character of each.
  --General Howard a Soldier on Principle.--His firm Faith in the Cause
  and its Success.--Methodical Turn of Mind.--Religious Habits and
  Training.--Mayor William H. Sidell as Sherman's Counterpart.--General
  John A. Logan the representative General of the Western Army.--His
  Readiness in Emergencies, and his great personal Daring.--General
  John W. Geary's adventurous Career.--His famous midnight Battle with
  Longstreet, and how he defeated him                               242

  CHAPTER VIII.

  SOME PECULIARITIES OF OUR VETERANS.

  Superiority of educated over uneducated Soldiers.--Contrast in the
  _personnel_ of European and American, between Union and Rebel, and
  between Eastern and Western Troops.--Superiority of the Union Armies.
  --Anecdotes and Incidents illustrating the Peculiarities of our
  Veterans                                                          321

ILLUSTRATIONS.

                                                                   PAGE

  SHERIDAN'S RIDE TO THE FRONT                          _Frontispiece._

  WILLIAM T. SHERMAN                                                 16

  GEORGE H. THOMAS                                                   58

  ULYSSES S. GRANT                                                   90

  ROBERT E. LEE                                                      95

  PHILIP H. SHERIDAN                                                131

  JOSEPH HOOKER                                                     164

  LOVELL H. ROUSSEAU                                                194

  DON CARLOS BUELL                                                  245

  WILLIAM S. ROSECRANS                                              261

  GORDON GRANGER                                                    268

  JAMES B. STEEDMAN                                                 276

  OLIVER O. HOWARD                                                  299

  JOHN A. LOGAN                                                     307

  JOHN W. GEARY                                                     317

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS

OF

DISTINGUISHED GENERALS.

[Illustration: WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN.]

CHAPTER I.

SHERMAN AS A STRATEGIST.

Of the few really great men who have been developed by the late war
in this country, and who will leave a lasting impression on the
minds of the people, William Tecumseh Sherman may be regarded as the
most original. His name has been made more widely prominent, and his
character more universally popular, than that of any other of our
heroes; but it has been less in consequence of his brilliant success
as a leader than by reason of his strongly-marked characteristics of
person and mind. He is, without doubt, the most original and eccentric,
though not the most powerful--the most interesting, though not the
most impressive character developed by the rebellion. He is by far our
most brilliant general, but not by any means the most reliable; the
most fascinating, but not the most elegant; the quickest, but not the
safest; the first to resolve, but not the most resolute. As a man he is
always generous, but not uniformly just; affectionate by nature, but
not at all times kind in demonstration; confiding, and yet suspicious;
obstinate, yet vacillating; decided, but not tenacious--a mass of
contradictions so loosely and yet so happily thrown together as to
produce the most interesting combination imaginable. General Sherman's
character has many beauties and virtues, but also many glaring defects
and faults. His picture, as I have seen and studied it, possesses what
the artists call "great breadth of light and shade," and is full of
contrasts alternately pleasing and offensive, and which, in order to
properly analyze the character, should be portrayed and described with
equal force and impartiality. He is a character without a parallel
among his contemporaries, though not without a contrast; and it is for
the latter reason that I have chosen his character as the one upon
which to base, as it were, the following estimates of the characters of
his fellow-officers of the United States army, and not because I think,
as may be supposed, that he deserves the first place in the rank of our
great captains. The war lasted long enough to give the leaders, if not
their proper places in popular estimation, at least their true linear
rank in the army. General Sherman may be considered as first among
the strategists of the war; General George H. Thomas as first among
the tacticians; but Grant, combining the qualities of both tactician
and strategist, must always be ranked as greatly the superior of both
Thomas and Sherman.

General Sherman may be described as a bundle of nerves all strung to
their greatest tension. No woman was ever more painfully nervous; but
there is nothing of the woman's weakness in Sherman's restlessness.
It is not, as with others, a defect of the organization; it is really
Sherman's greatest strength, for from it results the brilliancy of
conception and design which has characterized his strategic movements,
the originality which has appeared in his views on political economy
and the policy of war, and the overwhelming energy which is "his all
in all," the secret and cause of his great success. From his extreme
nervousness results the most striking feature of his character--a
peculiar nervous energy which knows no cessation, and is resistless.
It is not merely that energy and quickness of movement which naturally
belongs to nervous organizations, but intensified a hundred fold. At
the same time, it is energy without system, and oftentimes without
judgment, but nevertheless always effective. General Sherman is the
engine, but he is not always the engineer. He furnishes the motive
power, but he frequently requires some person or thing to keep him
to the track; in fact, he requires to be controlled and directed.
He is untiring in his efforts; you can never dismay him with the
amount or frighten him with the dangers of a task; and he hesitates
at nothing, matters great and small receiving his attention. He is no
believer in that too common fallacy that labor is a wearisome waste
of the physical and vital powers; a punishment, not a privilege; and
degrading, not elevating. Work is necessary to his existence, and
hard, earnest work at that. Always a hard, earnest worker, he devoted,
during the continuance of the war, but little time to sleep, and that
little sleep was never sound. His active mind, I once heard him say
to a fellow-officer, delights in preposterous dreams and impossible
fancies, and, waking or sleeping, continues ever active in planning
and executing.

A few anecdotes will perhaps better illustrate the nature of this
nervous energy. The most remarkable instance of this characteristic
which I can now recall occurred at Nashville, Tennessee. When Sherman
assumed command there in March, 1864, the great difficulty in the way
of an advance from Chattanooga upon the enemy, then covering Atlanta
and the Georgia railroads, was the lack of provisions at Chattanooga
and Knoxville. The military agent of the railroads from Nashville to
Chattanooga was running through to the army at the latter point about
ninety car-loads of rations per day. This merely served to feed the
army then gathered there; nothing was accumulating for the spring
campaign. General Sherman demanded the cause of this insufficient
supply of rations. The agent reported that he needed both cars and
locomotives, and added it was impossible to obtain them. General
Sherman answered that nothing was impossible, and immediately began to
devise means by which to remedy the evil. After a short deliberation,
he decided to seize a sufficiency of cars and locomotives in Indiana,
Ohio, and Illinois, and at once went to work to do so. In an incredibly
short space of time he extended the northern terminus of the Louisville
and Nashville Railroad through the former city, a distance of three
miles, to the Ohio River. On the levee, or wharf, he built an inclined
plane to the water's edge. One of the ferry-boats which plied between
Louisville and Jeffersonville was seized, and especially prepared
by the laying of rails across its bow and stern to carry cars and
locomotives. On the Indiana side of the river he extended the
Jeffersonville Railroad through that town to the Ohio River, and built
another inclined plane from the bluff on which the town is situated
down the steep wharf to the water's edge. At the same time he ordered
the impressment of the necessary cars and locomotives from the various
northwestern railroads, taking them off routes as far north as Chicago,
and rushed them off to Nashville, crossing the Ohio by the means he had
provided. The effect was soon visible. In a month after this movement
began the railroad agents reported that they were running two hundred
and seventy cars per day through to Chattanooga. By the 20th of April,
the day Sherman left Nashville to begin his Atlanta campaign, he had
accumulated at Knoxville eighteen, and at Chattanooga thirteen days'
rations for his whole army of 120,000 men. The energy which inspired
the railroad agents was communicated to the quarter-masters located at
Nashville, and the result was the increase of the laboring force of
this department from four or five thousand to nearly sixteen thousand
men. During the progress of this work General Sherman required the
railroad agents and quarter-masters to report progress daily. I
happened to be in his office one morning when assistant quarter-master
General James L. Donnalson reported a small increase in the number of
cars forwarded on that day over the supply of the day before. General
Sherman received the announcement with more evidences of gratification
than he would have shown on hearing of a heavy re-enforcement of his
numbers, for at this time he had more men than he well knew what to do
with. "That's good!" he exclaimed--"that's good, Donnalson; we'll be
ready for the start;" and then he hastily resumed his seat, and made
a rapid calculation of some sort, which he showed with much apparent
delight to Generals Donnalson and Webster, the latter his chief of
staff. He could not have been more delighted if he had heard the news
of a great victory. A moment afterward he turned to me to deny, in a
very gruff way--he was always gruff to newspaper correspondents--my
application for a pass over the military railroad to Chattanooga. "You
see," he said, "I have as much as I can do to feed my _soldiers_," with
a very ungracious emphasis on the word soldiers. As I had Lieutenant
General Grant's pass to any point and by any route in my pocket, and
had only submitted the question to General Sherman through deference
to him as the immediate commander of the department, I could afford to
smile at the slur conveyed in his emphasis, and turned away enriched
with a reminiscence, and with increased admiration of the man.

Some former experience with, or, rather, observation of the general,
had given me somewhat of the same opinion of his energy and
earnestness. When he first assumed command at Louisville, Kentucky,
in 1861, the agents of the New York Associated Press throughout the
country were employed by the government in transmitting its cipher
or secret messages, and correspondence between the various military
commanders, by telegraph. In consequence of this arrangement, General
Sherman frequented the office of the Louisville agency, in which I was
at the time employed. He was always at this office during the evening,
often remaining until three o'clock in the morning, when the closing
of the office would force him to retire to his rooms at the hotel.
During these hours he would pace the floor of the room apparently
absorbed in thought, and heedless of all that was going on around him.
He would occasionally sit at the table to jot down a memorandum or
compose a telegram. He would sometimes stop to listen to any remark
addressed to him by other occupants of the room, but would seldom
reply, even though the remark had been a direct question, and would
appear and act as if the interruption had but momentarily disturbed his
train of thought.

In July, 1864, while besieging the enemy's position at Kenesaw
Mountain, an incident occurred which may be given as illustrative
of Sherman's energy. When the campaign opened he had published an
order informing the army, in terms which were laughed at at the time
as rather bombastic and slightly egotistical, that "the commanding
general intended making the campaign without a tent," and during the
greater part of the march his head-quarters actually consisted of
nothing more than a tent-fly for the use of his adjutant general.
He generally slept under a tree during dry weather, and in very wet
weather in any convenient house. When the army was concentrated in
the gorge of Snake Creek Gap, in which there was not a house of any
character, General Logan "raised the laugh" on Sherman by sending him
a tent to protect him from the rain, and which, owing to the terrible
state of the weather, Sherman was compelled to use. But the greater
part of the campaign was actually passed by Sherman without any other
quarters than I have described as for the convenience of his adjutant
general. Early one morning a regiment of troops passed his bivouac
near Kenesaw Mountain, Georgia, and saw him lying under a tree near
the roadside. One of the men, not knowing the general, and supposing
him, from his jaded, weary, and generally dilapidated appearance, to be
drunk, remarked aloud, "That is the way we are commanded, officered by
drunken generals." Sherman heard the remark and instantly arose. "Not
drunk, my boy," he said good-humoredly, "but I was up all night looking
after your rations, and am very tired and sleepy." He soon after broke
up head-quarters, and, passing the same regiment on the march, was
received with loud and hearty cheers.

He makes his subordinates work, too, with the same zeal. When the
rebels, in evacuating Resaca, succeeded in burning the railroad bridge
over the Oostenaula River, he turned to Colonel Wright, his engineer
in charge of railroads, and asked him how long it would take him to
replace that bridge. Colonel Wright replied after a short calculation,
during which Sherman showed his impatience at the delay in the answer,
that he could rebuild it in four days.

"Sir," exclaimed the general, hastily, "I give you forty-eight hours,
or a position in the front ranks."

The bridge was forthcoming at the proper time.

This nervousness of Sherman's organization has naturally produced a
peculiar restlessness of manner and admirable vigor of expression. He
talks with great rapidity, often in his haste mingling his sentences in
a most surprising manner, and accompanying his conversation by strange,
quick, and ungraceful gestures, the most common of which is the
knocking of the ashes from his cigar with the little finger of his left
hand, frequently knocking at it until ashes and light too are gone.

In a conversation of importance, and particularly on a battle-field, he
seldom gives a person time to finish his remarks or reports. He replies
as soon as he has heard enough to convey the idea, never waiting its
elaboration. In giving his instructions and orders, he will take a
person by the shoulder and push him off as he talks, following him to
the door, all the time talking and urging him away. His quick, restless
manner almost invariably results in the confusion of the person whom he
is thus instructing, but Sherman himself never gets confused. At the
same time, he never gets composed. Under all circumstances, he is thus
restlessly, never timidly nervous. In danger the restlessness is not so
visible, and hence it is apparent that there is nothing of timidity in
it. On the battle-field where he commands Sherman's nervous manner is
toned down. He grates his teeth, and his lips are closed more firmly,
giving an expression of greater determination to his countenance. His
eyes are somewhat closed, as if endeavoring to see the furthermost
limits of the battle-field, and, as it were, peer into the future and
see the result. His cigar is always kept firmly between his lips, but
he suffers its fire occasionally to die out. He is less restless of
body; his arms are more confined to their proper limits; and he is
content to stay in one spot. He talks less at such moments than at
calmer ones. On light occasions, however, he is invariably ill at ease.
His fingers nervously twitch his red whiskers--his coat buttons--play
a tattoo on his table or chair, or run through his hair. One moment
his legs are crossed, and the next both are on the floor. He sits a
moment, and then rises and paces the floor. He _must_ talk, quick,
sharp, and yet not harshly, all the time making his odd gestures,
which, no less than the intonation of his voice, serve to emphasize his
language. He can not bear a clog upon his thoughts nor an interruption
to his language. He admits of no opposition. He overrides every thing.
He never hesitates at interrupting any one, but can not bear to be
interrupted himself. He is very well aware, and candidly admits that
his temper is uncommonly bad, and, what is worse, he makes no attempt
to control or correct it. In speaking of the late General McPherson,
of the Army of Tennessee, he once remarked, "He is as good an officer
as I am--is younger, and has a better temper." Grant, once speaking of
Sherman's peevishness, said, "Sherman is impetuous and faulty, but he
sees his faults as soon as any man." The fact is, if Sherman's faults
alone could be given to another, they would serve to distinguish him
from the common herd.

The idea generally prevails that commanding generals are very didactic
on the battle-field, and give their orders in precise language and
stentorian voice. A little familiarity with actual war will soon
dispel this false impression, particularly if you meet Sherman on the
battle-field, for there is less of dignity, display, and grandiloquence
in him than any other general whom I have met during the war. At the
battle of Chattanooga he gave his orders for the advance of his troops
against the enemy's strongly fortified position to his brother in law,
General Hugh Ewing, in the words uttered between two puffs at a bad
cigar: "I guess, Ewing, if you are ready, you may as well go ahead."
Ewing asked a few questions in regard to retaining the _échelon_
formation of his command as then marshaled for the advance. Sherman
replied, "I want you to keep the left well toward the river (the
Chickamauga), and keep up the formation four hundred yards distance,
until you get to the foot of the hill."

"And shall we keep it after that?" asked Ewing.

"Oh, you may go up the hill as you like," said Sherman; and then he
added, _sotto voce_, with a smile and a wink to his aid, and General
Ewing's brother, Charley Ewing, who stood near by, "if you can." As
General Ewing was mounting his horse and about to leave, Sherman called
out to him,

"I say, Ewing, don't call for help until you actually need it." General
Frank Blair, and others of the Army of the Tennessee who were standing
near Sherman, laughed at this in such a manner as left the impression
on the minds of others, as well as myself, that on some former occasion
General Ewing had called for help before General Sherman thought that
he really needed it.

It is recorded of Sherman that, on witnessing from the top of a
rice-mill on the Ogeechee River the capture of Fort McAllister by
General Hazen's forces, and the successful termination by that capture
of the "march to the sea," he exclaimed, imitating the voice of a
negro, "Dis chile don't sleep dis night," and hurried off to meet
General Foster and complete the junction of the two armies.

His nervousness is not less perceptible in his writings than in
his conversation and manners. His writings lack in elegance, but
not in force. Some of his letters, remarkable for absence of grace
and presence of vigor, are already accepted as among the model
documents of the war, not only as to style, but as to argument. His
speeches, letters, and orders are seldom more than skeletons, framed
of sharp, pointed, but disjointed sentences, from which the ideas
to be conveyed protrude so prominently as to be comprehensible when
the sentence is but half conveyed. His ideas are never elaborated in
his letters, though given more fully than in his conversations, but
you never have to finish the sentence to discover its meaning. There
are several specimens which every reader will naturally think of in
this connection. His letter to the rebel General Hood on the proposed
depopulation of Atlanta is a curious document, an impromptu reply,
thrown off-hand from his pen, and it reads as if it were Sherman
talking. He begins this letter by acknowledging the receipt of a
communication at the hands of "Messrs. Bull and _crew_." The bearers,
who were designated by this undignified title, were members of the
Common Council of Atlanta, for whom Sherman does not appear to have
entertained the most profound respect. The letter ends by advising
Hood to tell his tale of oppression "to the marines," as he (Sherman)
is not to be imposed upon. In the same correspondence he indicates
his action in depopulating Atlanta, and gives his peculiar "theory of
suppression." Sherman's whole theory, in which, by the way, he has been
consistent from the first, is embraced in the proposition to "fight
the devil with fire." He was for vigorous war all the time--hard blows
at the organized armies, frequent and oft repeated. He has none of
the elements of Fabian in him. He writes in defense of the action at
Atlanta alluded to: "We must have peace, not only in Atlanta, but in
all America. To secure this, we must stop the war that now desolates
our once happy and favored country. To stop war, we must _defeat the
rebel armies_ that are arrayed against the laws and Constitution, which
all must respect and obey. To defeat these armies, we must prepare
the way to reach them in their recesses provided with the arms and
instruments which enable us to accomplish our purpose." His expression
in the same letter, "War is cruelty--you can not refine it," is a
sharp, terse rendition of an undisputed truth, to the illustration
of which whole chapters have been less successfully devoted by more
distinguished writers.

While endeavoring to fill up his dépôts at Chattanooga and Knoxville
preparatory to the campaign against Atlanta, Sherman was asked by
members of the United States Christian Commission for transportation
for their delegates, books, tracts, etc., for the army. His reply is
very characteristic of the man: "Certainly not," he wrote; "crackers
and oats are more necessary to my army than any moral or religious
agency." As this incident shows, Sherman is not a very firm believer
in the utility of Christian or Sanitary Commissions, or aid societies
generally. He thinks female nurses about a hospital or an army a
great nuisance. He once alluded contemptuously to the efforts of a
large number of ladies at Louisville, Kentucky, to send clothing,
lint, sweetmeats, etc., to his troops, but was induced, in lieu of
discouraging their efforts, to take steps to properly direct them. He
met the ladies by agreement in one of the public halls at Louisville,
now known as Wood's Theatre, and made an address to them. He went among
the lambs with all the boldness and dignity of a lion; but the rough,
uncouth manner of him who had frowned on thousands of men melted in
the presence of a few hundred ladies. They found that, though "he was
no orator as Brutus is," he could talk very tenderly of the soldier's
wants, very graphically of the soldier's life and sufferings, and very
gallantly of woman and her divine mission of soothing and comforting.

During the campaign of Atlanta communication with the rear was very
much obstructed, the news correspondents found many difficulties in
forwarding information, and telegrams to the press seldom reached
New York. During the movement around Atlanta Sherman was applied
to directly by the news agent at Louisville for the details of the
movement. In reply the general telegraphed, "Atlanta is ours, and
fairly won;" following up the expression, which has already passed
into song, with a brief and graphic report of the flank movement
around Atlanta and the battle of Jonesborough. This report is one of
the most admirable narratives I remember to have ever read, and at the
time of its publication I wrote for the Herald, of which I was then
a correspondent, a long criticism of it. The letter never appeared,
however, for the reason that I endeavored to show that, successful as
he had been, Sherman had mistaken his vocation as a general, and ought
to have been a war correspondent. I suppose Sherman would have been
mortally offended at such language, particularly as he affected to
hold correspondents and editors in contempt; but undoubtedly he would
have been invaluable to the New York Herald or London Times in such a
capacity, and could have made more money, if not more reputation, in
that capacity than as a major general. He has lately declared that he
does not believe he will ever have occasion to lead men again, and I
advise him by all means to go into the newspaper business. Any of the
principal papers of New York will be glad to give him double the pay of
a major general to act in the capacity of war correspondent.

Until Sherman had developed his practicability, this peculiarity of
expression and manner were accepted as evidences of a badly-balanced
mind. It will be remembered that in his early career a report was
widely circulated to the effect that he was a lunatic; but the origin
of this story, if properly stated, will redound to his credit, as
evincing admirable foresight and sagacity. The true origin of this
report is as follows: Sherman succeeded General Robert Anderson in
command of the Department of the Ohio on October 13, 1861. Up to that
time about ten thousand United States troops had been pushed into
Kentucky. The Western governors were under a promise to send as many
more, but were slow in doing so. General A. Sidney Johnston, the rebel
commander at Bowling Green, was endeavoring to create the impression
that he had about seventy-five thousand men, when he really had only
about twenty-eight thousand. In this he succeeded so far as to cause
it to be supposed that his force largely exceeded Sherman's. Sherman
urged upon the government the rapid re-enforcement of his army, but
with little effect. The troops did not come, for the reason that the
government did not credit the statements of the perilous condition
of Sherman's army. So repeated and urgent were Sherman's demands for
re-enforcements, that at last the Secretary of War, Mr. Cameron,
visited Louisville in order to look into the situation of affairs. An
interview took place at the Galt House at Louisville, Sherman, Cameron,
and Adjutant General Thomas being present. Sherman briefly explained
the situation of affairs, stated his own force and that of the enemy,
and argued that re-enforcements were necessary to hold Kentucky, to say
nothing of an advance. "My forces are too small for an advance," he
said--"too small to hold the important positions in the state against
an advance of the enemy, and altogether too large to be sacrificed
in detail." On being asked how many men were required to drive the
enemy out of the state, he answered, without hesitation, "Two hundred
thousand." The answer was a surprise to the two officers, which they
did not attempt to conceal. They even ridiculed the idea, and laughed
at the calculation. It was declared impossible to furnish the number
of men named. Sherman then argued that the positions in Kentucky ought
to be abandoned, and the army no longer endangered by being scattered.
This was treated more seriously, and vigorously opposed by Cameron and
Thomas. They declared the abandonment of Kentucky was a step to which
they could not consent. Subsequently they broached a plan which had
been devised for dividing the Department and Army of the Ohio into
two; one column to operate under Mitchell from Cincinnati as a base
against Knoxville, and the other from Louisville against Nashville.
To this Sherman was strongly opposed. Satisfied by the persistence of
Cameron on this point that the government was not disposed to second
his views of conducting the affairs of the Department, Sherman asked to
be relieved and ordered to duty in the field. Cameron gladly acquiesced
in his wishes, and he was relieved by Buell, November 30, 1861.

On the same evening of the famous interview between Cameron and
Sherman, the latter paid his customary visit to the Associated
Press-rooms at Louisville. Here, while still in a bad humor over the
result of the interview, he was approached by a man who introduced
himself as an attache of a New York paper, and asked permission to pass
through the lines to the South in the capacity of a correspondent.
Sherman replied that he could not pass. The correspondent, with
unwarrantable impertinence, replied that Secretary Cameron was in
the city, and he would get a pass from him. Sherman at once ordered
him out of his department, telling him that he would give him two
hours to make his escape; if found in his lines after that hour he
"would hang him as a spy." The fellow left the city immediately, and
on reaching Cincinnati very freely expressed his opinion that the
general was crazy. A paper published in that city, on learning the
story of the interview between Cameron and Sherman, which soon became
public, employed the fellow to write up the report which was thus first
circulated of Sherman's lunacy. His opinion that two hundred thousand
men were required to clear Kentucky of rebels was quoted as proof of
it by this man, and thus the story came into existence.

Subsequent events revealed the fact that Sherman did not much
exaggerate the force necessary to carry on the war in the central zone
of the field of military operations. Although we have never had a
single army numbering two hundred thousand men in the West, much larger
armies have been necessary to the accomplishment of the campaign of the
Mississippi and Tennessee Rivers than any person other than Sherman
thus early in the war imagined. The army of Grant at Fort Donelson and
Shiloh, combined with that of Buell, was not over eighty thousand men.
That of Halleck before Corinth numbered exactly one hundred and two
thousand. Sherman left Chattanooga in May, 1864, with one hundred and
twenty thousand men, the largest army ever gathered in one body in the
West. At the same time, he had under his command at different points
on the Mississippi River and in Kentucky an additional force of about
fifty thousand, while the forces operating under other commanders in
the West would, if added to his, make a grand total of two hundred and
fifty thousand men operating on the Mississippi River, every one of
whom was necessary to the conquest and retention of the Mississippi
Valley.

Sherman may have been at one time crazy, but his madness, like
Hamlet's, certainly had marvelous method in it. Such lunatics as he
have existed in all ages, and have, when as successful as himself, been
designated by the distinctive title of "genius," in contradistinction
to men of medium abilities. Not only Shakspeare, but Dryden, seems to
have encountered such madness as Sherman's, and to have appreciated the
truth that

    "Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
    And thin partitions do their bounds divide."

Doubtless the same author had such a genius or madman as Sherman in his
mind when he described one of his characters as

    "A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
    Fretted the pigmy body to decay."

The peculiar formation of Sherman's head shows his great development
of brain. His forehead is broad, high, and full, while the lower half
of his face and head are of very diminutive proportions. In a person
of less physical strength and vitality, this great preponderance of
the mental over the physical powers would have produced perhaps actual
lunacy. The head of Sherman is of the shape peculiar to lunatics
predisposed to fanciful conceptions. There is too much brain, and
in Sherman it is balanced and regulated only by his great physical
development. Sherman's brain, combined with bad health, would have
produced lunacy; his brain and sinewy strength combined produced his
peculiar mental and physical nervousness. Had he been a sedentary
student instead of an active soldier, the last line of Dryden's poem
might also have applied to him, and we should know of him only as an
"o'er informed tenement of clay."[1]

When this report of his lunacy was first circulated, Sherman was
much chagrined at it, and often referred to it in bitter terms.
Time and success have enabled him to frown it down, and justified
him in laughing at it. He once laughingly referred to this report
about himself, and the rumor which simultaneously prevailed regarding
Grant's drunkenness during the battle of Shiloh as illustrative of the
friendship existing between them. "You see," he said to a gentleman,
"Grant stood by me when I was crazy, and I stood by him when he was
drunk."

During the siege of Corinth he commanded the right wing of Thomas's
corps, while T. W. Sherman, of Port Royal memory, commanded the
left. The latter was very unpopular with his division on account of
a painfully nervous manner and fretful disposition, and the officers
of the command discussed him critically with great freedom, many
condemning his manner as offensive. One day General W. T. Sherman was
visiting General Steedman--then a brigade commander in T. W. Sherman's
division--and the latter's name was brought up, Steedman giving a very
ludicrous account of Sherman's conduct.

"Oh!" said William Tecumseh, "this is the crazy Sherman, is it?"

Great difficulty was found during the operations before Corinth in
distinguishing the two Shermans. The soldiers solved the problem
by giving each Sherman a nickname. T. W. Sherman was called "Port
Royal Sherman," in allusion to his services in South Carolina, while
W. T. Sherman was known by the somewhat inappropriate title of
"Steady-old-nerves," in contradistinction to the other, who, as before
stated, was more timidly nervous. Mr. Lincoln, with some recollection
of this coincidence of names on his mind, asked General Grant, on
being introduced to General Sherman, if he was W. T. or T. W., and
laughed with boyish glee at the "joke on Sherman."

As another natural result of Sherman's nervous energy, he has acquired
the habit of decision in the most perfect degree, and his peculiar
organization has tended to make him practical as well as petulant. He
never seems to reason, but decides by intuition, and, in this respect,
has something of the mental as well as bodily peculiarities of the
gentler sex, who are said to decide intuitively. But Sherman is by no
means a woman--he would have been a shrew had he been--and possesses
not one particle of the sex's beauty or gentleness. Sherman jumps at
conclusions with tremendous logical springs; and, though his decisions
are not always final, they are in effect so, for, if he is forced
to retire an inch, his next jump will probably carry him forward an
ell. Facts are the only argument which prevail with him, and the best
arguments of wise men are wasted in endeavoring to convince him without
undeniable facts at hand. Obstinate, and vain, and opinionated as he
is, and indisposed as he may be to listen to or heed the arguments of
equals or inferiors, he never hesitates to sink all opposition before
the orders of his superiors, and pay the strictest deference to their
views when expressed authoritatively.

I have before said this nervousness of mental and bodily organization
was the main-spring of Sherman's character. From it result not only
his virtues, but his faults, and as man and commander he has many. He
is as petulant as a dyspeptic; excessively gruff, and unreasonably
passionate. His petulance does not, however, prevent his being
pleasant when he is disposed; his gruffness does not destroy all his
generosity, and his passionate moods are usually followed by penitence.
His fits of passion are frequent but not persistent, and, though
violent, are soon appeased.

His gruffness often amounts to positive rudeness. While in command
at Louisville in 1861, the wife of the rebel commander Ingraham
passed through the city _en route_ to the South. The lady, who was
rebelliously inclined, pleaded consumption as her excuse for wishing
to inhale the Southern air. Sherman gruffly advised her to "shut
herself up in a room and keep up a good fire--it would do her just
as much good." He often replies in this petulant tone to both sexes,
particularly if the person addressed has no business of importance.

He once took great offense at having his manners, and particularly this
habit of gruffness, compared to the manners of a Pawnee Indian, and
expressed his contempt for the author of the slur in a public manner.
He was much chagrined shortly after to find that the correspondent
who had been guilty of the offensive comparison had heard of his
contemptuous criticism, and had amended it by publicly apologizing to
the whole race of Pawnees!

During the battle of Bull Run, where General Sherman commanded a
brigade, he was approached by a civilian, who, seeing him make some
observations without the aid of a field-glass, proffered him the use of
his own. Sherman turned to the gentleman and gruffly demanded,

"Who are you, sir?"

"My name is Owen Lovejoy, and I am a member of Congress."

"What are you doing here? Get out of my lines, sir--get out of my
lines."

Nothing satisfied Sherman but the immediate retreat of the member of
Congress to the rear.

I have heard that Sherman's bad temper was the cause of his leaving his
chosen profession of the law. After resigning his commission in the
army in 1853, he became, after several changes, a consulting lawyer in
the firm of his brothers-in-law, the Ewings, at Leavenworth, Kansas.
He had entered into the copartnership with the distinct understanding
that he was not to be called upon to plead in the courts; for, though
possessing a thorough knowledge of legal principles, a clear, logical
perception of the equity involved in all cases, and though perfectly
_au fait_ in the authorities, he had no confidence in his oratorical
powers. He was not then the orator he has latterly become, and utterly
refused to take any part in legal debate or pleadings. One day a case
came up in the Probate Court of Kansas requiring immediate attention.
Tom and Hugh Ewing were busy; McCook was absent, and Sherman was
forced, _nolens volens_, to go into court. He carefully mapped out
his course until it looked like plain sailing; laid down his plan of
procedure, as he used subsequently to do his plans of marches; but he
was destined to be driven from his chosen route, not by a Joe Johnston
or "foeman worthy of his steel," but by a contemptible, pettifogging
lawyer, with more shrewdness than honesty, and more respect for the end
to be attained than the means to be used. In the debate which the trial
involved, Sherman lost his temper, and, consequently, his case. He
returned to his office in a towering rage, dissolved the partnership
with his brothers-in-law, and, without farther hesitation, accepted the
presidency of the Louisiana Military Academy, the proffer of which he
had received a day or two before.

General Sherman's violent temper greatly endangered his reputation
toward the close of the war, and he came near sacrificing, in an evil
hour of passion, all that he had won before. His passion was to him
as the unarmored heel was to Achilles, and the vulnerable point of
his character came near costing him even more dearly than did the
vulnerable part of the Grecian warrior's body. His diplomatic feat with
Joe Johnston was generally denounced as a blunder, but it was not the
blunder which came near costing him so dearly. That piece of diplomacy
took the shape of a blunder in consequence of the unfortunate and
unforeseen circumstances and disasters which occurred simultaneously
with it. Had Mr. Lincoln lived, General Sherman would to-day have
borne a brilliant reputation as a diplomatist, and his agreement with
Johnston would have been at once, as it was eventually, accepted as the
basis for the political reconstruction of the country. That agreement
was repudiated by the people and President Johnson in an hour of
frenzied passion, though the latter has since modeled his plan upon
it; and Sherman lost his chance for becoming a great diplomatist. But
he, and he only, was to blame for the grave blunder which immediately
afterward nearly cost him his fame and position as a soldier. Sullen
at the repudiation of his agreement with Johnston, angry at the
interference of General Halleck with the co-operative movements of
himself and Sheridan, and furious at the countermanding of his orders
to his subordinates by the Secretary of War, Sherman forgot himself,
and marched to Washington with his army, breathing vengeance upon
Halleck, and hate and contempt for Stanton. Fortunately for Sherman,
history will not record the scene. History never yet recorded--no
nation ever before safely witnessed such a spectacle as that of a
victorious general, at the head of eighty thousand men devoted to him
and jealous of his fame as a part of their own, marching to the capital
of the country with threats against his military superiors breathing
from his lips and flowing from his pen. For days Sherman raved around
Washington, expressing his contempt for Halleck and Stanton in his
strongest terms, and denouncing them as "mere non-combatants" whom he
despised. More than this, he wrote to his friends, and through them
to the public, comparing Stanton and Halleck to "cowardly Falstaffs,"
seeking to win applause and honor for the deeds he had done; accusing
the Secretary of War of suppressing his reports, and endeavoring to
slander him before the American public in official bulletins. For days
his army roamed the streets of the capital with the same freedom with
which they had roamed through the fields of Georgia and the swamps of
the Carolinas, and no man dared to raise his voice in condemnation
of their leader, or approval of the superiors who had opposed him.
No republic ever before survived such a condition of affairs; this
republic never was in such danger before, and yet the danger was
hardly suspected. The spectacle is one which Sherman will ever regret,
but every true American, and every lover of republican liberty, can
point to it with pride as a remarkable illustration of the stability
of republican institutions. Powerful as Sherman was against Stanton
and Halleck (and a word from him would have destroyed them), he was
powerless against the nation, and not one man of his mighty host would
have followed him in an attempt upon its existence. It is, perhaps,
a still greater proof of the power of republican principles that, in
the midst of his furious rage, such a thought as the injury of the
government never for a passing second entered the brain of the leader
of these men. He has reason to be thankful that the nation was as
generous as he was honest; and that the people made no record against
him for the offense against discipline which in any other country would
have cost him not merely his position, but his reputation, and in any
other army his head. At the same time, the nation must and will cherish
the honest man who, thus tried and tempted, never for a single second
forgot his allegiance to the principles for which he had fought and the
country which he had served.

General Sherman's reputation as a soldier must rest entirely on his
strategic abilities. His successes were those of strategy only--not
of tactics. His faults as a commander are glaring as his faults of
character. As an organizer of armies for the field, and as a tactician
in battle, he was an utter failure. He never commanded a well-organized
army whose discipline did not become relax under his administration,
and he was never commander-in-chief in any battle which was not a
failure. Instead of being an organizer, Sherman was a disorganizer;
he was always chief among the "Bummers" which he made his soldiers,
and by which name they were eventually designated. His whole career
shows him to have been solely a strategist, absolutely incapacitated
by mental organization for disciplining and fighting an army. His
attempt to organize the army in Kentucky in 1861 was a most egregious
failure. He gave it up in despair to General Buell, who, on assuming
command, found it a mob without head or front, or appropriate parts.
Buell, in contradistinction to Sherman, was great as an organizer
and disciplinarian, and he soon made a fine army out of Sherman's
unorganized mob. General Sherman shortly afterward went into the battle
of Shiloh with a division of troops who were also unorganized, and only
escaped annihilation by the timely appearance of Buell and the now
thoroughly disciplined troops which Sherman had originally commanded.
When Buell's troops on this occasion made their appearance on the
small plateau which is called Pittsburg Landing, the great numbers of
Sherman's demoralized new recruits who were there huddled together
welcomed them as veterans. "Buell! Buell!" was their cry; "here come
Buell's veterans." One can not but smile when he remembers that the
men thus hailed as veterans had never been engaged in even so much as
a skirmish. Their conduct in the desperate battle which followed on
the day after their arrival proved them to be worthy of the name. One
year's thorough discipline had made them veterans without having fought
a battle.

Throughout Sherman's career his troops were noted for their lack of
discipline. When he assumed command of the Army of Tennessee on the
promotion of General Grant in 1863, he found it one of the best
disciplined armies in the country, though not the best provided.
I doubt if there was ever a division, brigade, or even regimental
drill in that army after Sherman took command. He subsequently became
indirectly in command of the Army of the Cumberland, which, though
directly commanded by that strict disciplinarian, General George H.
Thomas, soon felt the effect of Sherman's presence and control, and
became very relaxed in discipline. Subsequently, on the march to the
sea and through the Carolinas under Sherman, the discipline of the
formerly model armies became still more relaxed, and gradually the
whole army became regular "Bummers," a term which is not generally
understood in its proper sense of reproach. The people to this day
only half know what a "bummer" is, from having a general idea of the
character of Sherman as the chief of bummers. The veil of romance
which surrounded Sherman's army has never been entirely torn away.
Its pilgrimages are still romances. It has always been viewed in
that dim and distant perspective which adds a charm to beauty, and
hides internal troubles and blemishes, and the evils it did and the
outrages it committed have never been made public. But the friends of
Sherman might reasonably claim even the want of this special tact for
organizing and disciplining troops as a virtue. It can not really be
said to have detracted from Sherman's ability as a soldier. What was
lost thereby to the army in discipline was made up in mobility. If its
morale was bad, the marching was good, and that satisfied Sherman. If
he did not teach his soldiers how to fight, he gave them the mobility
which the execution of his strategic designs required of them, and
thus the end aimed at was gained, and the country was satisfied. He
merely changed his men from heavy to light infantry. Success justifies
all means, and thus Sherman became--and justly became--a great general
without ever having won a battle.

It is very strong language, I admit, to say that Sherman never won a
battle, but considerately so, for if the purely tactical operations of
General Sherman be critically examined, it will be found that they were
almost invariably failures. He was the chief in command, the central
and controlling power, in the battles of Chickasaw Bayou, Resaca,
Kenesaw Mountain, and Jonesboro, all of which, with the bare exception
of the latter, where his overpowering force and strategic march of
the night before insured victory, were tactically great failures. The
failure of the co-operative movements of Grant at Chickasaw Bayou
doubtless caused Sherman's defeat at that point--at least it has
served to explain it away, and stands as the excuse for it; but all
will remember how signal a failure it was. The battle of Resaca was
a still greater failure. Doubt, delay, and inaction lost Sherman the
great advantage which his strategic march through Snake Creek Gap had
given him in placing him in the rear of the enemy's position, and he
ought to have captured every gun and wagon of the enemy, and dispersed
the army which subsequently retarded his advance in Atlanta; but the
battle was begun too late and pushed too feebly. Sherman's strategy
had at one time rendered a battle unnecessary, and it was forced on
him through another's indecision (I believe that General McPherson
admitted before his death that that fault was his), but certainly it
was the fault of Sherman that the battle, when fought, was indecisive.
Every body will remember the Kenesaw Mountain battle and its useless
sacrifices, and every body will remember, too, the candor with which
Sherman wrote that it was a failure, and that the fault was his. All
the minor engagements of his great campaign against Atlanta were
either positive defeats or negative advantages, and yet that wonderful
campaign was won, and all the advantages which could have under any
circumstances accrued from it were gained to us without the losses
which a great battle would have caused. The strategic marches executed
during that campaign are now chapters in the theory and history of
war, and the close student of the art will see more to admire in the
passage of the Chattahoochee River, the march through the gorge of
Snake Creek Gap, and across the Allatoona Mountains, and the flank
movements around Kenesaw and Atlanta, than in the more dashing but
less skillful marches through Georgia and the Carolinas. The campaign
of Atlanta was made in the face of the enemy commanded by their most
skillful general, while during the other and more famous marches no
enemy was met. The campaign through Georgia was merely extensive;
that against Atlanta was both grand in conception and difficult in
execution. One was accomplished at a stride, the other step by step.
The campaign of Atlanta gave rise not only to a new system of warfare,
but even to a new system of tactics. Never before in the history of
war had an army been known to be constantly under fire for one hundred
consecutive days. Men whom three years of service had made veterans
learned during that campaign a system of fighting they had never heard
of before. The whole army became at once from necessity pioneers and
sharp-shooters. The opposing armies lay so close to each other that not
only pickets, but whole corps were within musket range of each other,
and every camp had to be intrenched. As a singular fact, showing the
impression made on the minds of the men by the changed tactics which
this campaign rendered necessary, I may mention that the soldiers
called each other "gophers" and "beavers;" and "gopher holes" were
more common in the armies' track than were camp-fires. It used to be
laughingly said of the men that, instead of "souring onto," i.e. taking
without leave each other's rations, they were in the habit, during the
Atlanta campaign, of purloining each other's pick-axes and spades with
which to dig their "gopher holes" or trenches for their protection from
the enemy's sharp-shooters. I imagine it is on this campaign and its
results, rather than on that from Atlanta to the sea, and from thence
to Goldsboro', that General Sherman would prefer to rest his reputation
in the future.[2] We of to-day study the holiday marches from a very
different stand-point from that which the generations which follow us
will view them. When all things come to be critically examined and
carefully summed up, it will be decided and adjudged that the battles
which made the campaign to the sea and through the Carolinas successes
were fought on the hills around Nashville by General Thomas, not by
General Sherman. Yet they are not without their great merit. Undertaken
with deliberation and after elaborate preparation, they were not
wanting in boldness and originality of design, but they do not serve to
illustrate strategy: it is only the logistics which are so admirable.

A great deal has been said and written about General Sherman's dislike
for the newspapers and for that class of necessary nuisances which were
with every army, the war correspondents; but it was a dislike that was
in a great measure affected. All men are egotists, Grant and Sherman
among the rest, and both like to be well spoken of and written about;
they would hardly be human if they did not. In fact, if Sherman can
not find somebody to write about him, he does it himself. One of the
instances in which he has complimented himself is destined to give
every student of the art of war a knowledge of this weak point of his
character. Shortly after the successful passage of the Chattahoochee
River in the face of the enemy, an operation which was among the
finest accomplishments of the campaign of Atlanta, Sherman published
an address to his troops, in which he said, with pardonable egotism,
"The crossing of the Chattahoochee and breaking of the Augusta Road was
most handsomely executed by us, and will be studied as an example in
the art of war." A still greater piece of egotism from his pen is not
less amusing. It is that letter in which he refers to his having been
a scourge to the South, and in which he adds, "Think how much better
that it was I than Ben Butler or some other of that school." This, to
say the least, must have been pleasant to "Ben" and "others of that
school," if not modest in General Sherman.

This egotism led to an affectation of simplicity in style and
carelessness in habits which produced a very pleasant incident at
Nashville in 1864. Sherman was very fond of the theatre, and would
go as often as he found time. When he first arrived in the "City of
Rocks," the manager of the "New Nashville Theatre" waited on him with
the tender of a private box. The general declined it, and instead of
appearing in a private box, would be found very frequently sitting in
the pit of the theatre surrounded by his "boys in blue," and laughing
at the comicalities or applauding the "points" with as much gusto as
any of the audience. This affectation of the republican in manners
gained him more notice than if he had sat in a private box, and every
body enjoyed seeing him there except the manager, who complained that
it was injuring his business. No officer dared to sit in a private
box with Sherman present in the pit, and these places became, during
Sherman's stay, "a beggarly account of empty boxes" indeed.

I once had a long conversation with General Sherman on the subject of
the press and war correspondents, from which I learned very little more
than that he was very much disposed to underrate the advantages of the
one and the abilities of the other, but very willing to accept, though
with an affected ill grace, the praises of either. He declared in that
conversation that the government could well afford to purchase all the
printing-presses in the country at the price of diamonds, and then
destroy them, and that all the war correspondents should be hung as
spies. Sherman, with all his affected contempt for the press, is more
indebted to it than any other officer in the army.

From time immemorial--at least from the days of Suwarrow and of "Old
Fritz"--Frederick the Great--troops have always given nicknames to
the commanders they adored. The veteran soldier is an affectionate
creature, and he evinces his lovable disposition pretty much as the
women do, by the use of pet names and expressive adjectives. The
veterans had a slang of their own, as expressive to the initiated and
as incomprehensible to the ignorant as the more systematically arranged
jargon of the showman, gambler, or peddler. Increasing affection for
a popular leader was evinced by an increase in the intensity of the
adjective or pronoun applied to the person. A popular leader may have
at one time been only "Colonel," but as his popularity increased and
he won the affection of his men, he was called "_The_ Colonel,"
"Our Colonel," and "Our Bully Colonel." At the height of McClellan's
popularity his soldiers invariably called him "Little Mac." Sheridan
was always "Little Phil," John A. Logan always "Black Jack," and Thomas
has successively been known as "Old Slow Trot," "Uncle George," and
"Old Pap," the latter being the superlative form of expression.

Sherman has not entirely escaped "nicknames," though he has been more
fortunate in this respect than some other commanders. In 1861 the Home
Guards of Louisville gave him a name which has never been used by any
other body of troops. It was under the following circumstances: The
Home Guard marched under Sherman's leadership from Louisville to meet
the invasion of Buckner. While moving to Lebanon Junction the general
spoke to the men, telling them of the necessity which had arisen for
their services, and proposed to muster them into the United States
service for thirty days. Few of them had blankets, none had haversacks,
and no tents were at the time on hand. The men were really not prepared
to remain long in the field, and some demurred at the length of time
mentioned. Sherman grew very angry at this, and spoke very harshly,
intimating that he considered the Home Guards a "paltry set of
fellows." The men were chagrined at this, and much embittered against
him, and on the spot voted him "a gruff old cock." They soon found,
however, that they had to accept him as a commander, when one of them
remarked, "It was a bitter pill." Out of this grew the title of "Old
Pills," which was at once fastened upon the general. The men consented
to be mustered for fifteen days. This put Sherman in an excellent humor
again, and he promised them tents, blankets, etc., immediately. This,
in turn, put the Guards in a high glee, and one of them suggesting that
"Old Pills" was sugar-coated, the nickname was modified, and he was
known ever after as "Old Sugar-coated Pill."

Later in the war his troops fixed upon one title of endearment for
Sherman which will doubtless stick to him to the last. It expressed no
peculiarity, was not properly a nickname, but simply an expression of
affection. He will always be known to his veterans as "Old Billy." His
veterans of 1861 and 1862 called him "Old Sherman," and few will forget
it who heard General Rousseau's brigade hail him by that title during
the battle of Shiloh. On the day of that battle, while hotly engaged
near the log church which gave its name to the field, Sherman met a
brigade of Buell's fresh troops moving forward to his support, and
hastily asked whose troops they were. General Rousseau, who commanded
the brigade, rode hastily through the line to meet Sherman, who had
been dismounted for the third time by the fire of the enemy, and had
one wounded arm in a sling, while his face was blackened by the fire of
his own artillery.

"Rousseau's brigade," said that officer--"your old troops, General
Sherman."

At the mention of Sherman's name, Rousseau's men, who had made their
first campaign under Sherman, recognized him. "There's old Sherman,"
ran along their lines, and in an instant more there broke above the din
of the battle three loud ringing cheers for "Old Sherman." Sherman
took no notice of the cheers at the time, but his subsequent report of
the battle showed that he was not oblivious to the compliment. At the
moment he simply ordered the brigade forward. It was about the time the
rebels began falling back, and soon the advance thus ordered became a
pursuit of the foe.

Sherman is an inveterate smoker. He smokes, as he does every thing
else, with an energy which it would be supposed would deprive him of
all the pleasure of smoking. He is fully as great a smoker as Grant,
whose propensity in that line is well known, but he is very unlike
him in his style of smoking. Grant smokes as if he enjoyed his cigar.
Sherman smokes as if it were a duty to be finished in the shortest
imaginable time. Grant will smoke lying back in his chair, his body and
mind evidently in repose, his countenance calm and settled. He blows
the smoke slowly from his mouth, and builds his plans and thoughts in
the clouds which are formed by it about his head. He smokes his tobacco
as the Chinese do their opium, and with that certain sort of oblivious
disregard for every thing else which it is said characterizes the opium
smoker. He enjoys his mild Havana in quiet dignity, half-smoking,
half-chewing it. Sherman puffs furiously, as if his cigar was of the
worst character of "penny grabs" and would not "draw." He snatches it
frequently, and, one might say, furiously, from his mouth, brushing the
ashes off with his little finger. He continually paces the floor while
smoking, generally deep in thought of important matters, doubtless;
but a looker-on would imagine that he was endeavoring to solve the
question of how to draw smoke through his cigar. He seldom or never
finishes it, leaving at least one half of it a stump. When he used to
frequent the Associated Press-rooms at Louisville in 1861, he would
often accumulate and leave upon the agent's table as many as eight
or ten of these stumps, which the porter of the rooms used to call
"Sherman's old soldiers." Even until long after Anderson's assumption
of command at Louisville the agent of the New Orleans papers continued
sending his telegrams for the rebel papers to New Orleans. This man was
a rabid secessionist, and disliked Sherman exceedingly. He used to say
of him that he smoked as some men whistled--"for want of thought." This
is undoubtedly a mistake; for close observers say that, while smoking,
Sherman is deepest absorbed in thought.

He is certainly, when smoking, almost totally oblivious to what is
going on around him. This peculiar absence of mind had an excellent
illustration in a circumstance which occurred at Lebanon Junction,
Kentucky, when first occupied by Sherman and the Home Guards. While
walking up and down the railroad platform at that place, awaiting
the repair of the telegraph line to Louisville, Sherman's cigar gave
out. He immediately took another from his pocket, and, approaching
the orderly-sergeant of the "Marion Zouaves"--one of the Home Guard
companies--asked for a light. The sergeant had only a moment before
lighted his cigar, and, taking a puff or two to improve the fire, he
handed it, with a bow, to the general. Sherman carefully lighted his
weed, took a puff or two to assure himself, and, having again lapsed
into his train of thought, abstractedly threw away the sergeant's
cigar. General Rousseau and several other officers were standing by at
the time, and laughed heartily at the incident; but Sherman was too
deeply buried in thought to notice the laughter or mishap. Three years
subsequently, at his head-quarters in Nashville, Rousseau endeavored
to recall this occurrence to Sherman's mind. He could not recollect
it, and replied, "I was thinking of something else. It won't do to let
to-morrow take care of itself. Your good merchant don't think of the
ships that are in, but those that are to come in. The evil of to-day is
irreparable. Look ahead to avoid breakers. You can't when your ship is
on them. All you can then do is to save yourself and retrieve disaster.
I was thinking of something else when I threw the sergeant's cigar
away." And then he added, laughing, "Did I do that, really?"

With the personal appearance of General Sherman the public are but
little acquainted. Very few full-length pictures of him have been made.
Of the numerous engravings and photographs which have been published
since he became famous very few are good likenesses, and none convey a
proper idea of his general appearance. The best picture which I have
seen is the one from which the accompanying engraving is made. The
outlines of the features are given with great accuracy, and any one
familiar with the general's physiognomy will pronounce it a faithful
likeness, though the position in which the subject sat serves to
conceal the extreme Romanism of his nose. There is a scowl on the face,
and yet the expression is that of Sherman in a good humor. He seldom
has such a self-satisfied air. A critical observer of the picture in
question would remark that Sherman has done in this case what he seldom
takes time or has inclination to do, and has given the artist a special
sitting. He has "made himself up" for the occasion. If the critic were
one of Sherman's soldiers, he would notice the absence from his lips
of the inevitable cigar. The coat, it will be observed, is buttoned
across the breast, and is the chief fault of the engraving, for Sherman
seldom or never buttons his coat either across his breast or around
his waist. His vest is always buttoned by the lower button only, and,
fitting close around his waist, adds to his appearance of leanness. It
is doubtful if at this time any one can be found, except the general's
tailor, who can tell when his coat was new. He appears to have an
aversion to new clothes, and has never been seen in a complete new suit
or heard in creaking boots. It may be said that he never conforms to
the regulations in respect to the color of his suit; for the uniform he
generally wears has lost its original color, and is of that dusty and
rusty tinge, and with that lack of gloss which follows constant use.
One would readily imagine, judging by its appearance, that he purchased
his uniform second-hand. The hat which he generally wears is of the
same order of faded "regulation," with the crown invariably puffed out
instead of being pushed in, in the "Burnside style." The regulation
cord and tassel he does not recognize at all.

With the exception of his eyes, none of the features of Sherman's
countenance are indicative of his character. Altogether he is
commonplace in appearance, neither excessively handsome nor painfully
repulsive. At the same time, divest him of his regulations, and in a
crowd his face would attract attention and afford a study. His eyes,
conforming to his general character, are as restless as his body or
mind. They are rather of a dull though light color, their restlessness
giving them whatever they possess of brilliancy and animation. His
lips close firmly and closely, and with the deep lines running from
his nostrils to either corner of his mouth, give to the lower half of
his face an air of decision indicative of his character. His hands
are long, slender, and tapering, like those of a woman, and are in
admirable keeping with his figure. His short, crisp whiskers, which
grow unshaven, and which appear to be stunted in growth, are of a dingy
red, or what is commonly called "sandy" color. He takes very little
care of his whiskers and hair, each having to be content, with one
careless brushing a day. He has, perhaps, as great a disregard for his
personal appearance as he pretends to have for what others may say or
think of him.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] "A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
    Fretted the pigmy body to decay,
    And o'er informed the tenement of clay."

[2] A more laborious campaign than that of Atlanta was never
undertaken, and it is difficult to say which soldier deserves the most
credit for the movements, Sherman or Joe Johnston. The retreats of the
latter were not less admirable than the flank marches of the former,
and Johnston showed as clean heels as Sherman did a fully guarded
front. His camps were left barren; Sherman found only Johnston's
smoking camp-fires, but no spoils left behind him. It was looked upon
by the officers of Sherman's army as the "cleanest retreat of the war,"
and it is very evident now that, had Johnston remained in command,
and been allowed to continue his Fabian policy, Sherman could never
have made his march to the sea, and the capture of Atlanta would have
been a Cadmean victory to him. Johnston proved himself a very superior
soldier--in fact, the superior general of the Southern armies. If it
could be said of any of the rebels, it could be said of Johnston that,
in fact, he was

          "The noblest Roman of them all:
    All the conspirators, save only he,
    Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar.
    He only, in a generous, honest thought,
    And common good to all, made one of them."

CHAPTER II.

THOMAS AS A TACTICIAN.

While General Sherman was pursuing Hood, when that gallant but not
very sagacious rebel was making his ill-judged and ill-advised but
bold march northward, leaving Atlanta and our armies in his rear,
some exigency arose which made General Sherman regret the absence of
General George H. Thomas, who had been sent to Nashville. I do not now
distinctly remember what the exigency was other than that it related to
some important movement--perhaps the movement to the sea--but, at any
rate, so undecided and troubled was Sherman in coming to a decision,
that he suddenly broke a long silence, during which he had been
seriously meditative, by exclaiming to one of his aids,

"I wish old Thom was here! He's my off-wheel-horse, and knows how to
pull with me, though he don't pull in the same way."

[Illustration: GEORGE H. THOMAS.]

There was never a truer word uttered in jest, and describing Thomas as
the "match horse" of Sherman is a comparison by no means as inaccurate
as it is rude. In the chapter which precedes this I have endeavored to
show that the distinctive feature of Sherman's character is a certain
nervousness of thought and action, inspiring a restless and resistless
energy. The best idea of General Thomas is obtained by contrasting
him with Sherman, and illustrating Sherman as a great strategist,
Thomas as a great tactician. Sherman is not merely a theoretical
strategist as Halleck is, as McPherson was, but one of great
practicability, and an energy which has given practical solutions to
his strategic problems. Thomas is not merely a theoretical tactician,
with a thorough knowledge of the rules, but one who has illustrated
the art on extensive battle-fields, and always with success. The two
appear in every respect in contrast, and possess no similarities. One
may be called a nervous man, and the other a man of nerve. Sherman
derives his strength from the momentum resulting from the rapidity
with which he moves; Thomas moves slowly, but with equally resistless
power, and accomplishes his purposes by sheer strength. Sherman is
naturally the dashing leader of light, flying battalions; Thomas the
director of heavily-massed columns. He may be called heavy ordnance in
contradistinction to Sherman, who may be likened to a whole battery of
light rifle-guns; or, in the language of the prize-ring, Sherman is
a light-weight and quick fighter, while Thomas is a heavy, ponderous
pugilist, whose every blow is deadly. Sherman's plans are odd, if
not original. Though I have heard learned military critics deny that
they embraced new rules of war, still it can not be denied that his
campaigns have been out of the general order of military exploits.
Thomas, on the other hand, originates nothing, but most skillfully
directs his army on well-defined principles of the art. Sherman jumps
at conclusions; Thomas's mind and body act with equal deliberation, his
conclusions being arrived at after long and mature reflection. Sherman
never takes thought of unexpected contingencies or failure. There is
always a remedy for any failure of a part of Thomas's plans, or for
the delinquencies of subordinates. Sherman never hesitates to answer;
Thomas is slow to reply. One is quick and positive; the other is slow,
but equally positive. Thomas thinks twice before speaking once; and
when he speaks, his sentences are arranged so compactly, and, as it
were, so economically, that they convey his idea at once. It is given
as advice, but men receive it as an order, and obey it implicitly.

The habits of the two men are radically different. Sherman is an
innovator on the customs not only of the army, but every phase of
social life, and is at least one generation ahead of the American
people, fast as it imagines itself. Thomas belongs to a past
generation, and his exceedingly regular habits belong to the "good old
time." He has been confirmed by long service in the habits of camp,
and appears never to be satisfied unless living as is customary in
camps. In September, 1862, his division of Buell's army was encamped at
Louisville, Kentucky, his quarters being in the outskirts of the city.
While encamped here, Colonel Joe McKibbon, then a member of General
Halleck's staff, arrived from Washington City and delivered to Thomas
an order to relieve Buell, and assume command of the Army of the Ohio.
In order to put himself in communication with the commander-in-chief,
Thomas was compelled to ride into the city and take rooms at the hotel
nearest the telegraph office. He employed the day in communicating
with General Halleck, urging the retention of Buell, and in declining
the proposed promotion. Late at night he retired to his bed. But the
change from a camp-cot to clean feathers was too much for the general.
He found it impossible to sleep, and at a late hour in the night he
was compelled to send Captain Jacob Brown, his provost-marshal, to his
head-quarters for his camp-cot. The reorganization of the army, the
murder of General Nelson by Jeff. C. Davis, and other events occurring
about the same time, conspired to keep the general a guest or prisoner
at the hotel for a week. During all that time he slept as usual on his
cot, banished the chamber-maids from his room, and depended for such
duty as they usually performed on the old colored body-servant who had
attended him for many years.

System and method are absolutely necessary to Thomas's existence, and
nothing ruffles or excites him so much as innovations on his habits or
changes in his customs. He discards an old coat with great reluctance;
and during the earlier part of the war, when his promotions came to him
faster than he could wear out his uniforms, it was almost impossible to
find him donning the proper dress of his rank. He wore the uniform of
a colonel for several months after he had been confirmed a brigadier
general, and only donned the proper uniform when going into battle at
Mill Spring. He was confirmed a major general in June, 1862, but did
not mount the twin stars until after the battle of Stone River, fought
on the last day of the same year, and then they found their way to his
shoulders only by a trick to which his body-servant had been incited by
his aids. This methodical and systematic feature of his character found
an admirable illustration in an incident to which I was a witness
during the battle of Chickamauga. After the rout of the principal part
of the corps of McCook and Crittenden, Thomas was left to fight the
entire rebel army with a single corps of less than twenty thousand men.
The enemy, desirous of capturing this force, moved in heavy columns on
both its flanks. His artillery opened upon Thomas's troops from front
and both flanks; but still they held their ground until Steedman, of
Granger's corps, reached them with re-enforcements. I was sitting on my
horse near General Thomas when General Steedman came up and saluted
him.

"I am very glad to see you, general," said Thomas in welcoming him.
General Steedman made some inquiries as to how the battle was going,
when General Thomas, in a vexed manner, replied,

"The damned scoundrels are fighting without any system."

Steedman thereupon suggested that he should pay the enemy back in his
own coin. Thomas followed his suggestion. As soon as Granger came up
with the rest of his corps, he assumed the offensive; and while Bragg
continued to move on his flanks, he pushed forward against the rebel
centre, so scattering it by a vigorous blow that, fearful of having
his army severed in two, the rebel abandoned his flank movement in
order to restore his centre. This delayed the resumption of the battle
until nearly sunset, and Thomas was enabled to hold his position until
nightfall covered the retirement to Rossville Gap.

Thomas is not easily ruffled. It is difficult alike to provoke
his anger or enlist his enthusiasm. He is by no means blind to the
gallantry of his men, and never fails to notice and appreciate their
deeds, but they never win from him any other than the coldest words in
the coldest, but, at the same time, kindest of commendatory tones. He
grows really enthusiastic over nothing, though occasionally his anger
may be aroused. When it is, his rage is terrible. During the campaign
in Kentucky, in pursuit of Bragg in 1862, Thomas was second in command
of the army under Buell. The new recruits committed many depredations
upon the loyal Kentuckians. While the army was passing a small stream
near Bardstown, called "Floyd's Fork of Salt River," Thomas was
approached by a farmer whom he knew to be a good Union man, and who
made complaint that one of the general's staff officers had carried off
the only horse left on his farm. The general turned black with anger at
such an accusation against one of his staff officers, and demanded to
know who and where the offender was. The farmer pointed to a mounted
infantry officer, who was attached to one of the regiments and not to
the general's staff. The general rode up to him and demanded to know
where he had obtained the horse which he rode. The officer replied
that he had "impressed" him. The general knew the man had no authority
to impress horses, and, choking with rage, he poured on the devoted
head of the delinquent a torrent of invective. He drew his sword, and,
putting the point under the shoulder-straps of the officer, ripped them
off, and then compelled him to dismount and lead the animal to the
place whence he had stolen him. He also required him to pay the farmer
for his trouble and the loss of service of the animal.

When the battle of Mill Spring began it found Thomas in a bad humor,
and on the first opportunity he had for "pitching into" any one he did
not fail to take advantage of it. The victim was Colonel Mahlon D.
Manson, a rough, excitable, but gallant old Indianian, who was acting
brigadier in command of his own and two or three other regiments. Under
the old organization of the volunteer army no adequate provision for
aids for acting generals had been made, and Manson's only aid, his
regimental adjutant, happened to be out of the way; so, when the battle
opened, and he had posted his regiments to receive the attack, he
hastily rode back to General Thomas to report in person the disposition
he had made of his forces. It happened that in doing this Manson
lost his hat, and he made his appearance before Thomas hatless, with
disheveled hair, unwashed face, and incomplete toilet, and Thomas's
pent-up rage vented itself on him. He had no sooner begun to state his
position to Thomas than that officer interrupted him with,

"Damn you, sir, go back to your command and fight it."

Excited as Manson was, he caught the full meaning, and the perhaps
unmeant insinuation of the general's words, and returned to his command
much chagrined. Thomas's anger did not last long after finding this
vent. He grew pleasanter before the day was over, was in spirits long
before Zollicoffer's rout was complete, and when he came to write his
report a week afterward, spoke very highly of Manson.

The self-control and coolness of Thomas under fire, and amid the
excitement and dangers of battle, is absolutely surprising, and, until
I had seen at Chickamauga repeated instances of his imperturbation,
I did not believe that human nature was capable of it. In relating
one of the episodes of the battle, an account of which I published
at the time, I alluded, I thought then, and think now, very happily
to the general as the "Statue Thomas." During that terrible conflict
the statue warmed into life but twice. At daylight on the second day,
before the battle had been resumed, General Rosecrans rode along the
line of battle, examining the position which the troops of McCook and
Crittenden had taken as best they could, without other guide than
the sound of cannon or other director than stern necessity. He rode
up to Thomas's quarters near the left centre of the field and asked
him several questions regarding the battle of the day before. Thomas
alluded briefly to the events of the fight, and in speaking of his
brilliant charge exclaimed rather warmly, "Whenever I touched their
flanks they broke, general, they broke," repeating the last words with
unusual zest and evident satisfaction. I was listening with great
eagerness and looking squarely at the general, when he caught my eye,
and, as if ashamed of his momentary enthusiasm, the blood mounted to
his cheeks and he blushed like a woman. His eyes were bent immediately
on the ground, and the rest of his remarks were confined to a few brief
replies to the questions addressed to him.

The other instance to which I was a witness occurred during the
afternoon of the second day's battle, and in the midst of a lull which
had followed the retreat of McCook and Crittenden and the falling back
of Thomas's right division. The general was sitting in the rear of the
line of battle of his right as re-formed, engaged in watching a heavy
cloud of dust in the distance, and in such a direction that it might
be the enemy, or it might be the reserve forces of Gordon Granger,
which had been posted some distance in rear of the battle-field at
Rossville, and which it was hoped would march to the aid of the
army. The doubt under which he labored cast a visible cloud over the
general's spirits, and excited his nerves to an unusual degree. He had
no disposition to resume the fight, and, fearful of the result of the
next attack of the rebels, was anxious to avoid a resumption of the
battle. He consequently watched the development of the cloud of dust in
the distance with painful anxiety. If it dissolved to reveal friends,
then they were doubly welcome, for fresh friends insured the safe
retirement of that fraction of the army which still held its ground.
If it disclosed the enemy, then the day and army were lost, and it
became the duty of those who formed this "last square" at Chickamauga
to throw into the teeth of the victorious enemy a defiance as grandly
contemptuous as that of Cambronne, and die. There was no escape if the
troops advancing from the rear were, as it was feared, the cavalry of
the enemy. General Tom Wood, hearing some one express himself to this
effect, threw in a word of encouragement by saying that it was evident
it was not cavalry, "for," said he, "don't you see the dust rising
above them ascends in thick misty clouds, not in spiral columns, as it
would if the force was cavalry," a remark which indicated the close
observation of General Wood. The anxiety of General Thomas increased
with every moment of delay in the development of the character of
the advancing columns. At one time he said nervously to his staff,
"Take my glass, some of you whose horse stands steady--tell me what
you can see." I was standing near him at the moment looking through a
field-glass, and remarked that I felt sure that I could see the United
States flag.

"Do you think so? do you think so?" asked the general, nervously.

Shortly after, Captain G. M. L. Johnston, of General Negley's staff,
reported to Thomas for duty, and the general requested him to venture
toward the advancing force, and learn, if possible, to which army
it belonged. Johnston was gone for some time, running the gauntlet
of the rebel sharp-shooters, who were fast enveloping Thomas's left
wing. During his absence the anxiety of Thomas increased until it
grew painful to the observer, and the relaxation which followed the
revelation of the fact that the coming force were friends was a
positive relief to the by-standers. As Johnston returned with General
Steedman the nerves of Thomas calmed down, and his excitement was
hardly visible save in the petulant tone and manner in which he cursed
Bragg for fighting without any system. During the fight which ensued he
remained as passive and apparently as unconcerned as if he were in the
safest place imaginable.

During the morning of the second day of the same battle I was again
near General Thomas when the rebels made a vigorous attack on his
breast-works. He and a single staff officer were sitting a little in
the rear of the centre of the line, and just in range of the shells
which the enemy was throwing with great vigor and rapidity. While thus
exposed, a shell passed between the general and his aid, causing them
to look at each other with a quiet smile. A moment afterward another
shell took the same route. The general, instead of smiling this time,
turned to his aid and said,

"Major, I think we had better retire a little," and fell back a few
yards to a small wood.

On the night after this battle, and when the troops had retired to
Rossville, General Thomas was asked by Colonel B. F. Scribner to
take a cup of coffee at his camp-fire, and did so. Scribner had been
slightly wounded in the head, and the clotted blood still stood upon
his face, left there in order to prevent the wound from continuing to
bleed. Thomas sat down by Scribner, drank his coffee, saw the wound of
Scribner, talked of commonplace matters for half an hour, but never by
word or act alluded in the slightest way to the fact that he had just
fought one of the most important battles of the war, and saved the army
from annihilation. No one could have known from Thomas's remarks that a
battle had been raging, or that his host had been wounded.

One of the great faults of Thomas's character is due to this extreme
solidity of his nervous system. Without rendering him exactly selfish
or acrimonious, it has made him cold and undemonstrative in manner,
and rather insensible to the emotions. He is generous without being
enthusiastic, and kind without being at all demonstrative. He has
been compared to Washington, but the comparison was made by General
Rosecrans, who, by the way, knew nothing whatever of human nature,
and could not read it even with the best spectacles of saddest
experience; and the comparison holds good only thus far, that Thomas,
as Washington was, is portly of person and dignified of manner. His
undemonstrative manner has given to many the idea that he was incapable
of strong affections, firm friendships, or noble emotions; and the
only enemies whom he had were men with whom he had been on terms of
friendship, and who, falling under disfavor, looked in vain to him
for some demonstration of aid. There are two or three instances, not
proper to relate in detail, which have given Thomas's fellow-officers
the idea that he was selfishly cold; but I do not think such to be the
case, for, though cold and undemonstrative, Thomas has never revealed
aught of the selfish or envious in his character. His blood ran as
sluggishly as oil upon water, but it was from principle, if such a
thing could be, and I think it was in this case. One of the subordinate
commanders of Thomas's army, who distinguished himself at Stone River
and Chickamauga, was an Indiana colonel named Ben F. Scribner, a brave
officer, who, from his action at the battle of Perryville, Kentucky,
went by the name of "gallant little Scrib"--a sobriquet bestowed upon
him by General Lovell H. Rousseau, his immediate commander. After
the battle of Chickamauga, Scribner was not treated fairly in the
reorganization of the army by Rosecrans, and complained to General
Thomas, his corps commander, of the injustice done him. During the
conversation Colonel Scribner used the expression that he could not but
feel that a serious wrong had been done him, when Thomas slowly and
sadly said,

"Colonel, I have taken a great deal of pains to educate myself not to
feel."

This remark gives a wonderful insight into Thomas's nature, and will
explain much in his manner that is a mystery to thousands who have
studied his character.

General Garfield used to relate a story which gave rather a comical
turn to the general's undemonstrative style, and one which I do not
remember to have ever seen in print. In fact, it has been a somewhat
doubtful question with me as to whether I should be justified in
relating it, and only do so with the warning, "_Honi soit qui mal y
pense_." When General Thomas relieved Rosecrans at Chattanooga in 1863,
General Garfield remained with him for a time as chief of staff. One
morning the two officers were riding around the town, examining the
defenses which were then being built, when they heard some one hailing
with the cry,

"Hello, mister! you! I want to speak with you."

On looking around, General Thomas discovered that he was the "mister"
wanted, and that the person who had hailed him was one of those East
Tennessee soldiers who were always easily distinguishable from the
Northern soldiers by their peculiar rough, uncouth, and backwoods
appearance. He stopped, and the man approached him and began,

"Mister, I want to get a furlough."

"On what grounds do you want a furlough, my man?" asked the general.

"I want to go home and see my wife," replied the East Tennesseean.

"How long since you saw your wife?" asked the general.

"Ever since I enlisted--nigh on to three months."

"Three months!" exclaimed the general, good-naturedly. "Why, my good
man, I haven't seen my wife for three years."

The East Tennesseean stopped whittling the stick which he had in his
hand, and stared for a moment incredulously at the general.

"Wall, you see," he said at length, with a sheepish smile, "me and my
wife ain't that kind."

Shaking all over with laughter, the general put spurs to his horse and
galloped away, leaving the astonished soldier unanswered.

I should have enjoyed hugely hearing Thomas laugh aloud. During the
three years in which I saw him almost daily, and under all sorts of
circumstances, I never saw him _smile_ but once, and that was under
circumstances so peculiarly ridiculous that it would have provoked
laughter from Patience on a monument, or even the grief that she smiled
at. A low comedian, named Alf. Burnett, from one of the Cincinnati
theatres, essayed to become a war correspondent, and during the
summer of 1863 made his appearance in the camp of General Rosecrans,
quartering himself at Triune with Colonel James Brownlow, son of
the famous Parson Brownlow, and at that time in command of an East
Tennessee regiment. Burnett was very good as a mimic, and particularly
excelled in his delivery of a burlesque sermon in which the sentence
"He played upon a harp of a thousand strings, spirits of just men made
perfect," frequently occurred as a refrain. Colonel Brownlow on one
occasion invited Burnett to deliver this sermon before his regiment,
and, as a joke upon the chaplain of the command, that worthy was
requested to announce the occasion of its delivery, and when the time
arrived to open the services with a hymn. Burnett began his burlesque
sermon, and had gone through a considerable portion of it before the
chaplain and the soldiers began to suspect how much they had been
outraged. As soon as he perceived the nature of the performance, the
chaplain approached Burnett, took him by the back of the neck, marched
him to the camp limits, and with the injunction to "go and sin no
more," kicked him out of the camp. The facts were at the same time
represented to Rosecrans, who expelled Burnett from the department,
but, at the solicitations of some friends, the mimic was allowed to
return to make his explanations. After hearing Burnett's explanations,
Rosecrans insisted on hearing the "Hard-shell Baptist sermon," and
Burnett gave it in his best style. Rosecrans was delighted, declared
it was inimitable, and told Burnett he should remain at his quarters,
should deliver it nightly, and would have put him on his staff if
Burnett had asked it. The sermon became Rosecrans's hobby; he thought
and talked for a time of nothing else, and one night invited General
Thomas to quarters to hear it. The general and his staff came, and the
performance began with songs which did not interest, and continued with
the sermon, which, much to Rosecrans's surprise, did not amuse "old
Thom." But, after Burnett's farce had been finished, Rosecrans called
upon Colonel Horace Porter, of the Ordnance Department, for a song, and
Porter gave a comic Irish song in the best brogue, accompanying himself
by imitating the playing upon Scotch bagpipes. Porter was one of the
most dignified, quiet, sedate, and elegant officers of the army at
Rosecrans's head-quarters; and the ridiculousness of his attitude, the
contrast with his usual appearance and manner, was too much for General
Thomas, and he "smiled" almost audibly several times during the song. I
never afterward saw the fun stirred up in Thomas.

The contrast between Thomas and Sherman may be extended even to their
personal appearance and habits; and in these, as in character, the
difference is most marked. Thomas's figure is very striking. Something
of his height is lost to the eye by the heaviness of his figure. If he
were as thin as Sherman, he would look the six feet two or three inches
which have been ignorantly attributed to him. He is really about five
feet ten or eleven inches in height, but so much does his heaviness
detract from the appearance of height that he does not appear so tall.
Thick-set, robust, and healthy, he moves heavily and slowly, but by
no means feebly or unsteadily. His beard and hair were sandy at the
beginning of the late war, but they have since become silver sprinkled,
and add to the great dignity of his appearance. His features are all
large, with the exception of his nose--a long, thin Grecian feature
which Napoleon would have admired. His lips are rather thick, rounded,
and red. His chin and jaws, large and squarely cut, with his great,
steady, though not bright eyes, indicate, more than any others of his
features, his firmness and positiveness of character. His countenance
is at all times severe and grave, but not necessarily stern. He
seldom smiles; but the constant seriousness of his countenance is not
repulsive. It may be said to be forbidding. It certainly forbids
trifling. The simplest-minded man, seeking audience of him, will
understand, on being received by the general, by a glance at his
countenance, that he must be brief and to the point. His presence is
no place for loungers. His visitors must have business to transact or
retire, and they never require any other hint than the countenance
of the general. He is a man in earnest, and it does not take long
to discover it. He is perhaps as free from display and pretension
as any man in the army. He never does any thing for "effect." His
manner admits of no familiarity. There is dignity in every gesture,
but not necessarily either grace or love. His style of living in camp
is comfortable and even elegant. His mess consists of himself and
two aids. His mess ware is principally silver of elaborate finish.
I breakfasted once or twice with the general during the Chickamauga
campaign. On the occasion of each visit daylight and breakfast were
announced simultaneously by an elderly, dignified, and cleanly-attired
colored servant, who brought me an excellent punch, with "Colonel
Flynt's compliments," as an appetizer. The breakfast-table was spread
under the fly of the tent, which served as a kitchen, and on it smoked
fresh beef, ham, and strong black coffee. At each silver plate was a
napkin of the purest white, artistically folded in the latest style of
the first-class hotels, a silver water-goblet, a china cup, and the
usual knives and silver forks. Better beef and better coffee could not
have been found in the country in which the army was campaigning, while
the hot rolls and potatoes, baked in the hot ashes of a neighboring
fire, would have made many a French cook blush.

When beginning the campaign of Atlanta Sherman endeavored to effect an
important innovation in the habits of his army by carrying out to the
very letter his instructions to "move light," _i.e._, without extra
baggage. In order to impress upon his officers the necessity of setting
a good example to the men, he published an order, in which he stated
that the "general commanding intended making the campaign without tent
or baggage." The hint was lost on most of the officers, and among
others on Thomas, who moved in his usual heavy style, with a complete
head-quarter train and the usual number of tents, adding indeed to the
usual allowance a large wagon arranged with desks, which, when covered
by a hospital-tent fly, made a very complete adjutant general's office.
The campaign began, and Sherman made several days' march without
his tent, sleeping any where that night overtook him, but before
reaching Resaca he was very glad to take up his abode near Thomas's
head-quarters, and make use of his tents and adjutant general's office.

No one has ever accused General Thomas of being a genius either
militarily or otherwise. He neither plans campaigns with the aptitude
and originality of Sherman, nor fights battles with the vigor and
abandon of Sheridan. Thomas's success has been obtained by long service
and patient industry, and he is an example of what may be accomplished
by the unremitting toil of a practical man. He is possessed naturally
of that good, clear sense which is often inappropriately called
common sense, but which is of no common order at all. He has never
been brilliantly educated, and is neither a brilliant thinker nor
converser. He is doubtless well versed in West Point lore and the art
of war. His education has been derived principally from a long and
varied experience with the world, which has rendered him pre-eminently
a practical man. His mind consequently takes naturally, as has been
before stated, to method, and every thing he does is completed (in
the full sense of the word) in a methodical manner. There is little
that is original in his plans or his mode of executing them, but
all are distinguished for their practicability and completeness.
His calculations leave a wide range for contingencies, delays, and
accidents, and are not easily disturbed by untoward incidents and
unexpected developments. He never goes into a campaign or battle
without knowing exactly how to get out of it safely, in case the
necessity for retreating arises. He has on more than one occasion
furnished the means of getting the armies of others out of danger.
At Stone River, when Rosecrans was defeated and his council of war
proposed to retreat, Thomas showed that the safety of the army depended
upon remaining and assuming the defensive. At Chickamauga, when the
same leader left his army in the midst of a terrible battle and at the
beginning of a rout of the greater part of it, Thomas again came to the
rescue, and covered the retreat in a manner which saved the day and the
army.

With his troops Thomas is a most popular leader. He has the deep-seated
and deep-rooted affection of his men, which is not the less sincere
because it is undemonstrative. He is looked upon by the army with a
sort of affectionate reverence, and he possesses in the highest degree
the confidence of his men. To this more than to any other feeling,
person, or circumstance, the nation owed the safety of its army at
Chickamauga. This feeling of confidence in its leader did more to
hold his corps together on that day--did more to keep up the _esprit
de corps_ of his command during the terrible attacks to which it was
subjected, than did all the discipline which had otherwise been drilled
into the men. The men of the two routed _corps_ were just as good,
just as brave, and just as tenacious fighters as were Thomas's men,
but they had no faith at all in the wisdom of their leaders, McCook
and Crittenden, who were not men of either inspiring presence or iron
qualities. Men will not stand and fight under officers in whom they
have not the most implicit faith. Such confidence is reposed in Thomas
to the fullest degree, and is accompanied by an affectionate regard
which adds to its strength.

Soldiers, as I have had occasion to remark elsewhere, have a very
natural mode of expressing their affection by titles of endearment,
indicative of the peculiarities of the subjects of their admiration.
Thomas has been christened with dozens of "nicknames." When he was
at West Point and in the regular army in Mexico, he was called "Old
Reliable," from his recognized and proverbial fidelity to the service.
During the Mill Spring and Stone River campaigns he won from his men
the sobriquet of "Old Pap Safety." This was subsequently boiled down
into "Pap Thomas," by which name he is called more frequently than
by any other. His slow gait, and quiet, dignified style of riding,
gained him the title of "Old Slow-trot." "Uncle George" and "George H."
are often used by the men in facetious hours, and the titles always
linger on the tongues of the soldiers like sweet morsels. And though
these titles are used by the men with an air and in a tone indicating
familiarity with their leader, none of them ever knew him, in his
communication with them, to sacrifice his dignity in the slightest
degree. They have no difficulty in reaching his ear. They always find
a patient listener and a sound adviser, and a kindly mannered and
pleasant director. He never laughs and jokes with soldiers or officers,
but his mild voice and quiet manner win him more of the love of his men
than any momentary familiarity could do. I have known him to halt in
the march and spend ten or fifteen minutes in directing stragglers to
their commands.

General Thomas is the purest man I met in the army. He was the Bayard
of our army--"_sans peur, sans reproche_," and I have endeavored in
vain to find a flaw in his character. His character is free from every
stain, and he stands forth in the army as above suspicion. He has gone
through the war without apparently exciting the jealousy of a single
officer. He has so regulated his advancement--so retarded, in fact,
his promotion, that when, as the climax to two years' hard service,
he fought a great battle and saved a great army, and was hailed and
recognized by the whole country as a hero, not one jealous or defeated
officer was found to utter dissent to this popular verdict.

There was at one time some ill feeling between Grant and Thomas,
growing out of the anomalous position in which both were placed by
Halleck when the army was besieging Corinth, but I believe that was
cleared up. General Grant was made second in command under Halleck,
and his army was given to Thomas, who remained in active command in the
field. Grant's position was really none at all; it was not recognized
by regulations or uses, and was felt by him to be an insult put upon
him (he imagined at one time) at the instigation of General Thomas.
Such was not the fact, however, and General Grant so became finally
convinced.

The late rebellion was the school of many of our best officers, and
dearly did the country pay in its best blood the tuition of some. Bull
Run was the price which the country paid for having its erroneous
idea of war violently corrected. The failure of the first assault on
Vicksburg and of the attack on Kenesaw Mountain were fearful prices
paid to correct certain errors of judgment in Sherman's mind. We paid
for McClellan's violation of a well-known rule of war in placing the
Chickahominy between his battalions. Numerous similar instances might
be named, showing how the country has been compelled to pay terrible
penalties of blood for the ignorance of unworthy and incompetent
leaders; but enough. Thomas's training in the art of war has cost the
country not a single disaster or sacrifice. On the contrary, he has
saved the country, on more than one occasion, the fearful penalty
it was about to pay for the ignorance of other leaders. He has been
prominent in three grand campaigns. Two of them he has conducted on his
own plans and in person. In the other he acted as second in command.
The two which he planned and conducted were complete successes; and the
other, as far as he was concerned, a magnificent triumph. His first
campaign in the war for the Union was that against the fortified
camp of Zollicoffer at Mill Springs, Kentucky. His plan embraced an
assault upon the rebel works; but before he could get into position
to do this the enemy marched out of his works and attacked him in his
camp, failing in an attempt to surprise him. The rebels failed also
in the battle which ensued, and were terribly defeated, with heavy
loss, and at the sacrifice of the organization of their army. Night
alone, under cover of which it crossed the Cumberland River, prevented
the capture of the entire rebel force. Fourteen pieces of artillery,
fifteen hundred horses, with all the stores of the enemy and a large
number of prisoners, fell into our hands. This victory was complete,
and doubly welcomed as the first positive success since the battle of
Bull Run. The country hailed it as the first sign of the rejuvenation
and reorganization of the army. The rebel "army of Western Kentucky"
has never been heard of since that disastrous day; and George B.
Crittenden, its commander, sank at once into disgrace and oblivion as a
consequence of his defeat.

In the campaign and battle of Chickamauga Thomas was second in command
to Rosecrans, but in all its important actions his is the principal
figure. The story of Chickamauga has been often, and, in one or two
instances, well told; but the whole truth about it must be reserved
until time shall permit the historian to tell it without fear or
favor. Thomas stands forth the undisputed hero of that day--the single
spirit upon whom all depends. He is the central figure. There are no
heroes beside him. The young and noble ones who died, as Lytle and
Burnham, Van Pelt and Jones, and those not less noble spirits who
distinguished themselves and lived to be rewarded, as Baird and Dick
Johnston, old Steedman and young Johnston, who guided his columns to
the assault, Wood and Harker--all these surrounding Thomas but add to
his glory as the parhelion adds to the beauty of the sun. On the first
day at Chickamauga Thomas did his share toward the destruction of a
great rebel army, but it was in vain. The fruits of his victory were
frittered away by the incompetency of others. There was no general
advance when he advanced. On the second day it was too late; the enemy
had succeeded in crossing his whole army over the Chickamauga, and
the opportunity to destroy his forces in detail was gone forever.
Circumstances then devolved upon Thomas the task of saving a great
army, not destroying one. The duty was nobly performed, and the army
nobly saved; and though those who were not present, and who judge
of the battle from hearsay, may be mystified by the circumlocution
and vagueness of official reports, those who stayed at Chickamauga
know very well that Thomas _alone_ retrieved that disaster and saved
Rosecrans's army.

A short time after I had published in Harper's Magazine the sketch of
General Thomas, of which this is a revised edition, I received many
letters from old friends complaining that I had not done him justice
in using the expression "Thomas originates nothing," and many were the
instances quoted showing his originality of mind and plans. None of the
arguments or examples given were convincing, however, and I have left
the expression unchanged. One of these complainants stated that General
Thomas was the originator of the plan to go through Snake Creek Gap in
order to get upon Joe Johnston's rear and flank; but I am inclined to
think this an error. The writer narrated that a few days after starting
on the Atlanta campaign in May, 1864, Sherman, having thoroughly
reconnoitred Rocky Face Ridge, the defensive line of the enemy, decided
that it was necessary to storm and carry the position. Sitting one day
on the railroad bank in front of Buzzard Roost Gap, he confided this
opinion to General Thomas.

"It can't be done, general," Thomas answered; "the ridge can not be
carried."

"But it must be," said the impetuous Sherman, with his usual petulance.
General Thomas repeated his observation.

"But then we can't stay here," urged Sherman; "we must go ahead--we
can't stop here. There is nothing left but to assault the ridge."

"Have you tried every other means, general? Can't we go around them?"
asked Thomas, at the same time unfolding his map.

"Yes, yes, we have tried all other means."

"Why can't we go through Snake Creek Gap?" asked Thomas. The voices
of the two, according to my informant, here became lowered; the two
generals bent their heads over the map; and it is claimed by Thomas's
admirer that the result of that conversation was the occupation of
the mountain gorge of Snake Creek Gap. Although told with much detail
and precision, I am not at all disposed to credit this story, and I
am convinced that, though not without foundation, there is an error
somewhere. Another admirer of General Thomas wrote me claiming for him
the credit of having originated and planned "Sherman's march to the
sea." He states that, shortly after the occupation of Atlanta, and
while Hood's army was still in Sherman's front, General Thomas proposed
to General Sherman to take the 14th and 20th _corps_, and march through
the state to Savannah or some point on the coast equally important.
The plan was not immediately acted on; information was received of
Hood's purpose to flank Atlanta and go northward, and General Thomas
was sent to Nashville to organize the forces there in order to meet
him. Hood did move north, and Sherman decided to leave him to the care
or the mercy of Thomas, while he, with the 14th, 15th, 17th, and 20th
corps, twice the force originally said to have been proposed by Thomas,
and really three times the force actually necessary for the movement,
made the march which Thomas had planned. I very much doubt the full
truth of this statement, though I do not know that it is untrue in any
particular. But whether or not he planned it matters little; Thomas
at Nashville may be said to have executed it, and to him, and not to
Sherman, belongs the credit of its success. I have always wondered how
Sherman came to delegate the subordinate, Thomas, with the lesser half
of the army, to fight the main battles and conduct the real campaign,
while he, the superior officer, with the greater half of the force,
made a detour in which no danger was encountered--no danger, in fact,
apprehended--and which could have been better effected with half the
force.

When the London Times characterized Sherman's march to the sea as the
"Anabasis of Sherman," and declared that it was virtually a retreat,
the London Times was exactly right, but the American people "could not
see it." But the stupidity of the rebels made that retreat a success
instead of a disaster to us. Had the Fabian policy of Joe Johnston
prevailed--had Atlanta been surrendered without a struggle, and had
the rebels been content to cover Macon with their infantry and employ
their cavalry in destroying the single railroad which inadequately
supplied Sherman's army, the retreat to Savannah and the sea would have
been instead a retreat to Chattanooga. When Hood removed his army from
Sherman's front, he presented that already doubting general with a
second alternative, whereas he had but one before, and permitted him to
choose of two routes by which to retreat. Sherman chose, for the sake
of the morale of his men and of the people, to "retreat forward" to
Savannah instead of "advancing backward" to Chattanooga, and went off
at a tangent to the sea. His unexpected detour did not interfere with
Hood's plans. The rebel had no more and no fewer enemies to fight than
he would have had if Sherman had followed him. Sherman could not have
concentrated his forces at Nashville in time to meet Hood, for portions
of the last force which, under General Steedman, fell back from
Chattanooga to re-enforce Nashville were cut off by the enemy and did
not reach the field at all. With this view in his mind, apprehending no
danger from Sherman, and believing he could defeat Thomas, Hood pushed
on, with what result is known. He met Thomas at Nashville, and the
consequence was his annihilation. The success of Thomas made Sherman's
march a success, and hence the former deserves the full credit for the
latter's achievement. How great this credit is can be seen by forming
in the mind an idea of the consequences which would have attended a
failure on Thomas's part. Had he been defeated Nashville would have
fallen; Hood would have marched into Kentucky and appeared on the line
of the Ohio, while Sherman, making his appearance a thousand leagues
away on the South Atlantic coast, would have found himself written down
a great failure instead of a great general.

The battles of Nashville were not greater in result than grand in
execution, and are, to my mind, Thomas's finest examples of grand
tactics. I can not here allude to them in detail. The operations were
conducted in a manner characteristic of the man. The retreat and
concentration at Nashville was a masterly performance, executed without
confusion and completed without loss. The battle before the city was
one of hard blows and simple manœuvres, fought after ample preparation
and due deliberation. The columns were heavy and massed, and the lines
strong and deep. The action was slow and measured. In the midst of
the engagement there were numerous lulls--pauses employed in dreadful
preparation, in re-arranging lines and massing columns. There were
numerous deliberate assaults of strong positions, and in every minute
detail of the general plan there was visible a combined effort of each
part of the army to reach some vital point of the enemy's position,
the key of the battle-field. When this was won the battle was ended.
The victory was the result of cool, deliberate action. The troops were
tools in the hands of their leader, and were made willing and trusty
instruments through the absolute and unbounded confidence which they
felt in him.

In the three campaigns of Mill Spring, Chickamauga, and Nashville, the
career of General Thomas is chiefly embraced. In the minor events of
his military career there is nothing to detract from the glory which
attaches to him in these.

[Illustration: ULYSSES S. GRANT.]

CHAPTER III.

GRANT AS A GENERAL.

The clearest conception of the characters of Generals Sherman and
Thomas is obtained by contrasting them. A correct estimate of General
Grant may be had by forming in the imagination a character combining
the peculiarities of both Sherman and Thomas; for in the person of
the lieutenant general the very opposite qualities which distinguish
the others meet and combine with singular grace and felicity. General
Grant does not make so effective, or, so to speak, so dramatic a
picture as Sherman, nor does he present so dignified, that is to say,
so stately an appearance as Thomas; yet he combines in himself the
originality and energy of the first, with the deliberation, coolness,
and pertinacity of the latter. Without the constant fire and fury