XI
_AT WARLOCK_
"It's jes' what I done tole you niggas fust off."
That was Sam's comment upon the situation when his master was broughthome to Warlock, stretched upon a litter.
"I done tole yer what'd happen when Mas' Baillie go off to de wah in datway, 'thout Sam to take k'yar of him. An' bar in min' what else I donetole yer, too. Ain't de chinch-bug done et up de wheat, jes' as I toleyer? Now, Mas' Baillie, he's a-gwine to die wid that hole in he haid.Den what's a-gwine to become o' you niggas?"
Sam promptly installed himself as his master's nurse, sitting by himduring the day, and sleeping on the floor by his bedside every night.For a time it seemed likely that the negro's dismal prophecy ofBaillie's death would be fulfilled, but with rest and the bracing airof his own home, he slowly grew better, until he was able at last to sunhimself in the porch or under the trees of the lawn.
He chafed a good deal at first over the fact that he had not seen themajor part of the fighting along Bull Run, and it annoyed him still morethat he was likely to lose his share in a campaign which was expected tobring the war to a speedy and glorious end. It was Marshall Pollard wholaughed him out of this latter regret. During the long waiting-time thatfollowed the battle of Manassas, Marshall, who had gained a lieutenancyin his battery, secured several brief leaves of absence in order tovisit the convalescent man at Warlock.
"You're missing nothing whatever, Baillie," he said to him one day, inanswer to his querulous complainings. "We're doing nothing out there infront of Washington, and, so far as I can see, we're not likely to doanything for many months to come. When the battle of Manassas ended insuch a rout of the enemy as never will happen again, we all expected topush on into Washington, where only a very feeble, resistance or noneat all would have been met. When that didn't happen, we confidentlyexpected that the army at Centreville would be reinforced at once withevery man who could be hurried to the front, and that General Johnstonwould push across the Potomac and take Washington in the rear, orcapture Baltimore and Philadelphia, and cut Washington off.
"I don't pretend to understand grand strategy, but this was plain commonsense, and I suppose that common sense has its part to play in grandstrategy, as in everything else. Anyhow, it is certain that that was thetime to strike, and if the army at Manassas had been reinforced andpushed across the Potomac while the enemy was so hopelessly demoralisedand disintegrated, there is not the smallest doubt in my mind that thewar would have come to an end within a month or two. Instead of that, wehave done nothing, while the enemy has been straining every nerve tobring new troops into the field by scores of thousands, and to drill anddiscipline them for the serious work of war. They have done all this soeffectually that they now have two or three men to our one, half a dozenguns to our one, and supply departments so perfectly organised that noman in all that host need go without his three good meals a day, whilewe are kept very nearly in a state of starvation, and are now fortifyingat Centreville, like a beaten army, whose chief concern is to defenditself against the danger of capture."
"Have you ever heard an explanation of this strange state of things?"asked Baillie. "You see, I've been out of the way of hearing anythingever since the battle."
"O, yes, I've heard all sorts of explanations. But the real explanation,I think, is the lack of an experienced general, capable of grasping thesituation and turning it to account. Neither in the field nor inauthority at Richmond, have we a man who ever commanded an army, or evenlooked on while a great campaign was in progress. General Johnston andGeneral Beauregard are doubtless very capable officers in their way. Butuntil this war came, they were mere captains in the engineer corps,engaged in constructing Mississippi levees, and that sort of thing.Neither of them ever in his life commanded a brigade. Neither ever saw agreat battle, or had anything to do with an army composed of men byscores of thousands.
"Their victory at Manassas simply appalled them. They didn't know at allwhat to do next. They will probably become good and capable commandersof armies before the war is over, but at present they are onlyex-captains of engineers, suddenly thrust into positions for which theyhave absolutely none of that fitness which comes of experience."
"But have they not learned enough yet? Will they not now see theiropportunity, and undertake a fall campaign?"
"No. The opportunity is entirely gone. The Federal army is to-day muchstronger in every way than our own. We have pottered away the monthsthat should have been spent in vigorous and decisive action. The onlyman in our army capable of seeing and seizing such an opportunity andturning it to account--I mean Robert E. Lee--has been kept in themountains of Western Virginia, engaged in settling wretched littledisputes among a lot of incapable, cantankerous political brigadiers. Itmeans a long war and a terrible one, Baillie, and you'll haveopportunity to do all the fighting you want before it is over. Butnothing of any consequence will be done this fall."
The young lieutenant was quite right in his prophecy. Except for alittle contest at Drainesville--amounting to scarcely more than askirmish--there was absolutely nothing done until the 21st of October.Then occurred the small, badly ordered and strategically meaninglessbattle of Leesburg, or Ball's Bluff, when the Federals were againcompletely defeated. After that came a long autumn of superb campaigningweather, and a tedious winter of complete inaction. Federal expeditionsbesieged some of the forts and islands along the Carolina coasts, thuspreparing the way for a coast campaign which was never made in earnest.
There was fighting of some consequence in Kentucky and Missouri, and asthe winter waned, General Grant made his important campaign against theforts on the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers, breaking the Confederateline of defence in that quarter, and pushing it southward. But inVirginia, the natural battle-field, absolutely nothing was done duringall those months of weary waiting.
For this strange and strangely prolonged pause in a war which had begunwith a rush and a hurrah, history has been puzzled to find anexplanation. It is true that the Confederate forces were untrainedvolunteers, whose endurance and discipline could not have been reliedupon in an aggressive campaign to anything like the extent to which Leeafterward depended upon the unflinching endurance and unfalteringcourage of these same men. But the Federal army was at that time in muchworse condition. To unfamiliarity with war and to complete lack ofdiscipline in that army, there was added the demoralisation ofdisastrous defeat and panic. General McClellan said in his officialcapacity, and with carefully chosen words, that when he was placed incontrol in August, he found "no army to command,--a mere collection ofregiments cowering on the banks of the Potomac, some perfectly raw,others dispirited by recent defeat, some going home." He completed hisdescription of the situation by saying: "There were no defensive workson the southern approaches to the capital. Washington was crowded withstraggling officers and men absent from their stations withoutauthority."
Why the Confederates, with their great victory to urge them on, made noeffort to take advantage of such conditions, but lay still instead,giving McClellan many months in which to recruit and organise and drillhis forces into one of the most formidable armies of modern times, isone of the puzzles of history. Perhaps Marshall Pollard's suggestion wasthe correct explanation,--namely, that there was no general at Manassaswho knew what to do with a great opportunity, or how to do it.
Seeing that Baillie was becoming excited by this serious talk, hisfriend adroitly turned the conversation to less strenuous matters. Halfan hour later The Oaks ladies drove up in their antique, high-hungcarriage, to make that formal inquiry concerning Mr. Baillie Pegram'sconvalescence which from the first they had made with greatscrupulousness three times every week.
When they had gone, Pollard asked:
"Have you seen Miss Agatha since that day last spring, when you wererequested not to visit The Oaks?"
For a moment Baillie remained silent. Then he said: "If you don't mind,I'd rather not talk of that, Marshall."
That was all that passed between thes
e two on that subject during theweek of Marshall's stay at Warlock. How unlike men are to women in thesethings! Had these two young men been two young women instead, howminutely each would have confided to the other the last detail ofexperience and thought and feeling! And this not because women are moreemotional than men--for they are not--but because they are not ashamed,as men are, of the tenderer side of their natures.