Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, November 17, 1864.
Well, the election is over, and nobody hurt. In the army it
passed off very quietly, Mr. Lincoln receiving two votes to McClellan's one.
This result was fully anticipated by me—indeed, McClellan's vote was larger
than I expected.
The election being over, it is now to be hoped the earnest
attention and best energies of the Government and people will be devoted to
raising and sending men enough so to swell our armies that our onward movement
will be irresistible, and the Confederacy convinced that further resistance is
useless. There are significant signs that our enemies are beginning to feel the
exhaustion and effects of a three years' war. Among these the most important is
the proposition of Mr. Davis to arm forty thousand slaves, who are to receive
their freedom as a boon for faithful services. They are to be employed, it is
ingeniously said, as engineer troops, and to act as a reserve to be called on
in an emergency. This is a plausible disguise, to sound the temper of the
Southern people on the question of arming and freeing the slaves. Nothing but
the conviction of the necessity of this measure could ever have justified its
enunciation. It has produced the most violent discussions pro and con in the
Southern journals, and bids fair to be as great a firebrand with them as it has
been with us. My own judgment is it will be abandoned, for although the number
as yet is fixed at forty thousand, as a test, to see if the negroes can be
relied on and will fight, I believe that the experiment will prove that the
arming the slaves is more dangerous to the Confederacy than to us. I have no
doubt that many will be faithful to their masters, but the great body will,
after being armed, desert to us or go back to their homes. Now, in view of the
position the South has always taken on this subject the change of ground can
only be attributed to desperation, and a conviction that the war in its present
gigantic proportions cannot much longer be carried on by the whites at the
South. Should this theory be correct, the end cannot be far distant, when we
have such armies in the field, as we ought to and I hope soon will have.
I have recently picked up a story in verse by Owen Meredith,
called “Lucille.” I don't suppose you are well enough to read a great deal. The
story is quite interesting, and told with much pathos, though I don't think the
poetry very superior.
We have recently had an influx of John Bulls in the form of
officers and others. You would have been delighted to see the admirable display
of whiskers, fine clothes, etc. An amusing incident occurred with Rosencrantz,
who was showing a couple of them our lines. On finding him a foreigner, they
were delighted and said, now you can tell us what the American officers really
think of us. “Veil,” said Rosey, “they no like you, they say, ‘ven this war be
over they vill take Canada.’” “God bless me, you don’t say so,” they exclaimed,
and did not ask Rosey any more questions of this nature. Approaching a part of
the lines, where it was dangerous from sharpshooters, Rosey said they had
better not go, but they pooh-poohed him, and he started on. Pretty soon the
balls began to fly pretty thick and close, when they changed their mind,
expostulated, and finally begged Rosey to turn back, but he had his dander up
and replied, “No, ve vill go on, ve vill go on,” and go on he did, and return,
fortunately without any one being hit.
_______________
* Son of General Meade.
SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George
Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 242-4
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