July 10, 1864
It seems sometimes
sort of lonely and hopeless, sitting here in the dust by Petersburg, and
hearing nothing except now and then a cannon in the distance. Sometimes I feel
like saying to the Rebels: “You're a brave set of men, as ever were; and honest
— the mass of you. Take what territory you have left and your nigs, and go and
live with your own delusions.” But then, if I reflect, of course I see that
such things won't do. Instead of being exasperated at the Southerners by
fighting against them, I have a great deal more respect for them than ever I
had in peace-times. They appear to much more advantage after the discipline of
war than when they had no particular idea of law and order. Of course I speak
only of a certain body, the army of Northern Virginia; of the rest I know
nothing. Also do I not speak of their acts elsewhere; but simply of the manner
of warfare of our particular opponents. It is always well, you know, to speak
of what you see, and not of what you hear through half a dozen
irresponsible persons. There is no shadow of doubt that the body of the
Southerners are as honestly, as earnestly and as religiously interested in this
war as the body of the Northerners. Of course such sentiments in the North are
met with a storm of “Oh! How can they be?” — “That is morally impossible”
— “No one could really believe in such a cause!” Nevertheless there is
the fact, and I cannot see what possible good can come from throwing a thin
veil of mere outcries between ourselves and the sharp truth. I am not so
witless as not to be able to tell in five minutes' conversation with common men
whether they are reasonably honest and sincere, or false and deceitful. I was
much struck with something that Major Wooten said, when we were waiting together,
by night, at Cool Arbor.1 After listening to the tremendous noise of
cannon and musketry that suddenly had burst forth, he said: “There they are,
firing away; and it is Sunday night, too.” The great thing that
troubles me is, that it is not a gain to kill off these people — now under a
delusion that amounts to a national insanity. They are a valuable people,
capable of a heroism that is too rare to be lost.
It is a common
saying round here that the war could be settled in half an hour if they would
leave it to the two armies. But I fear the two armies would settle it rather
for their own convenience and in the light of old enemies (who had beaten at
each other till they had beaten in mutual respect) than on the high grounds on
which alone such a decision could rest. And, on second thoughts, I do not think
it might turn out so smoothly. Doubtless the treaty would make excellent
progress the first ten minutes; but then would arise questions at which there
would be hesitation, and, at the end of the half-hour, it is to be feared both
parties would be back in their breastworks. General Meade is fond of saying
that the whole could be settled by the exercise of common Christian charity;
but (entirely sub rosa) I don't know any thin old gentleman, with a
hooked nose and cold blue eye, who, when he is wrathy, exercises less of
Christian charity than my well-beloved Chief! I do not wish to be understood as
giving a panegyric on the Secesh, but merely as stating useful facts. Little
Governor Sprague appeared again. He was last with us at Spotsylvania. This time
he came over with Birney, who, with his thin, pale, Puritanic face, is quite a
contrast. Sprague has two rabbit teeth in front that make him look like a small
boy. Birney looks rather downcast. You see he was ambitious to do well while he
had temporary command of the Corps; but all went wrong. His great charge of
nine brigades, on the 18th of June, was repulsed; and on the 22d the Corps had
that direful affair in which the whole Corps was flanked, by nobody at all, so
to speak. The more I think on that thing, the more extraordinary and
disgraceful does it appear. At the same time, it is in the highest degree
instructive as showing what a bold and well-informed enemy may do in thick
woods, where nobody can see more than a company front. The Rebel official
accounts show that Mahone, with some 6000 or 7000 men, marched in the face of
two corps in line of battle, took 1600 prisoners, ten flags, and four guns,
paralyzed both corps, held his position till nightfall, and retreated with a
loss of not over 400 men! I was with the 6th Corps and never heard a musket
from the 2d nor dreamed it was doing anything, till an aide came to say the
line had been driven in. . . .
_______________
1 On the Rebel picket line, with a flag of
truce.
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 186-9
