the State of Massachusetts for the flannel underclothes we sent them in April, 1861.

BULL'S RUN

Of other personal reminiscences, the papers which make up this chapter are all that I must now use. The first is a letter from a gentleman, in an important official position in Washington, describing

How

are not to be more closely associated. ever, there is much to do everywhere now, and what is most important is no longer in Washington. Yet one needs to be at Washington to see into what a terrible rut of inefficiency and humbug and twaddle our poor Nation has got. There seems no end to buncombe; we are saturated with it high and low.

Now what is the fact about this noble, etc., gallant, patriotic army? It was, in large part, a miserable rabble of sentimental actors and

"foreign mercenaries." It had no real discipline, only a play of it, or so much of it as was pretty. Its officers were knaves and fools. They had never read history, they knew not the simplest elementary conditions of war, and they never really expected to fight, certainly not to conduct fighting. The consequences of the Bull's Run affair prove this if they prove anything. The exceptions count by thousands, it is true, but the central fact is that the army was good for nothing. I really believe that three regiments of regulars well commanded could take the capital to-day, if there were no regulars in it. And how does the country behave? The cruel, savage, senseless poltroons who took to the ambulances and ran over the wounded and left them to die of thirst, taking their water for themselvesthe surgeons themselves who went mad with fright-have you hung any of them in Boston? They haven't been named yet; nobody has tried to get their names. But the vermin of various batteries send their names to a New York newspaper to testify that they deserted in spite of the earnest request of their officers on the eve of the first engagement, after having played soldier at the public expense three months, because "their time was out" and they "wanted to see their families"! God save their children from living. And the people of New York let these fellows "return to their business." Does the history of the world exhibit traces of the existence of anything meaner than that? And the men who did behave well-can you name them? Who cares for them? They are lost in our habit of buncombe.

We must strain every nerve to put things on an entirely different footing or we are lost. The very idea of order, precision, punctuality, complete honesty, and exact responsibility is generally lost among us. A man does the meanest things and does not know it; the most gallant things, and unless the spread-eagle takes them up nobody else knows it.

The women terribly want something to do. Couldn't they be got to form committees to hunt deserters and cowards, knavish contractors and speculating legislators, officers who give no care to their men except for parade and who throw away their coats in battle lest they should be known for officers, soldiers who can't be got to brush their coats or wash their faces or take care of a sick comrade or look twice at an enemy?

Until in some way or other something allied to discipline can be forced upon these creatures sent here for soldiers, all sanitary preaching is about useless. There ought to be a few hundred men hung here to-morrow. Then we might ask commanding officers to give orders for the health of their men. But orders go for nothing now. They are almost of as little value as promises.

Now I've told you the whole story. The Sanitary Commission can do nothing but poke sticks in at the edges. The whole kettle needs to be upset, and you are nearer the long end of the lever in Boston than you would be here.

As to the matter of Mr. Bishop's concern, I

have thought much about it, and talked a good deal and done a little. The small Treasury notes are chiefly for the convenience of soldiers wishing to send to their families. I don't think Mr. Bishop's plan would accomplish much for its cost. The best that I can think of would be some sort of soldiers' savings bank, with agents preceding and following close upon the paymasters. This is a matter. for solid men and financiers to think upon. But Dr. Howe has returned now, and you have the Brick Lane branch in full swing. I wish that you would have it talked about, and see if any scheme of the kind will bear beating out to details.

On the other side, here is the account of Bull Run by Mr. John S. Wise-a firstrate Virginian authority. It is in his charming book "The End of an Era:"

The battle of Manassas [Bull Run] was one of the oddest episodes in military history. It was fought at right angles to the line of battle selected by both commanders, and was virtually won by the Union forces when they became panic-stricken and fled.

AS THE WAR WENT ON

It will give a hint of the variety of the work of a church at home when I say that we had our share, through the Sanitary Commission, in help to the hospitals of the army, the relief of its sick, the care of prisoners and refugees, and the education of freedmen. The first teachers who went to Port Royal to teach blacks were my assistant, the Rev. Charles E. Rich, now of California, and one of our Sundayschool teachers, Mr. George N. Boynton. Colonel Everett Peabody commanded the regiment most in advance at Shiloh.

He

was sure that Grant's army would be attacked, and gave in his report of that certainty. His men, ready for battle, met the first attack, in the gray of the morning, and he and most of them were killed in the onset. It is one of our proud recollections that the flannel shirts which were dyed again that day were made in our vestry.

Three days afterwards the young men who first appeared at the landing in charge of the hospital steamer after the horrors of the battle of Shiloh were two young physicians from our church, with supplies which we had forwarded-Dr. John Green, now of St. Louis, and Dr. Abram Wilder, of Kansas.

The editor of the first newspaper published in a rebel prison was one of our

boys, who had volunteered the first day and had been taken prisoner at Bull Run. The news of the horrors of the second Bull Run came on Sunday morning. Ladies did not go home from the church, but stayed in the vestries to tear bandages, to pack boxes and see them forwarded by the right expresses. I have given notice from the pulpit that hospital attendants were needed by the Sanitary Commission, and men have started the same evening on service which lasted for years. I once had from Richmond a private intimation of methods by which Union officers could be supplied with home stores. We needed a hundred and ten private letters written to as many Northern homes; I told this to the ladies of my class, and the long letters were written and posted before night. I think-but I am not certainthat the only ether and chloroform which came to the hospital in Richmond where Union officers were treated in the spring of 1864 were boxed and sent from our church.

For all this time the system was going forward by which we forwarded the stores to hospitals, and even regiments, which exigencies outside the regulations suddenly required. And when you go beyond what was physically done within the walls of the South Congregational Church, there is no end to such stories. Men and women gave money like water. The words "public spirit" got an interpretation and meaning they have never lost. God grant they never may!

แ

I have an old box of sermons labeled "War Sermons." I will not make the reader study them. I could not if I would. But the texts are suggestive: Compel them to come in." "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." "Stand fast in the liberty wherein Christ has made us free." "Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off." "The unity of the spirit." "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." "Give to him that asketh of thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away." (This on a sermon which is indorsed, "Take the loan.") "Lift up your eyes and look on the fields; they are white already to harvest."

On a sermon indorsed, "Buchanan's Fast," "Put not your trust in princes."

As early as March 28, 1859, "I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven." "Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost." In a sermon marked "Reaction," "The same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it; yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while." "His mercy endureth forever." On the President's Fast, April 30, 1863, "Seeing that we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses." "That they all may be one." "What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." "Forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching forward to those that are before." "And the children of Israel went up and wept before the Lord until even, and asked counsel of the Lord, saying, Shall I go up to battle against the children of Benjamin my brother? And the Lord said, Go up against him." "Not unto us, O Lord, but unto thy name give glory." This on the Thanksgiving Day after the return of peace.

I was at the annual commencement of the Andover Theological Seminary in August, 1861, just after our defeat at the first Bull's Run. The chaplain of the day prayed that McDowell might be forgiven "for having unnecessarily initiated a battle on the Lord's day." My kinsman, Professor Stowe, who was there, told this story, of Longfellow, his classmate in college, whom he had met a few days before: Longfellow had stopped him in the street and asked him how things were going on at Andover; and said, "If New Testament will not do, you must give them Old."

Sometimes as an officer of the Sanitary Commission, sometimes to preach to my old parish at Washington, I went on to that city. I dare not say how often, as the four years went by.

Here is a curious memorandum of a conversation which I had with Charles Sumner about Lincoln's Compensated Emancipation Message:

freely of his intimacy with the President, and afterwards meeting George Livermore I went with him to call on Mr. Sumner. He entertained us, and very agreeably, with the history of the President's message for compensated emancipation, for which he took a good deal of credit to himself, and which he told me in much these words:

"That began a good while ago—as long ago as the extra session. But to speak of this session only, the night I got here, Saturday night -Congress meets on Monday-as soon as I had brushed off the dust of travel, I went down to see the President. I talked with him alone two hours about the principal subjects of the message. I talked to him about the Trent affair, about the conduct of the army and General McClellan, and about slavery. About them all we agreed, or agreed very nearly. For about the Trent affair we agreed entirely -that nothing should be said about it. About the army we agreed entirely, and General McClellan; and about slavery we agreed too, though some people would not believe thisthe Daily Advertiser' would not believe it, Mr. Hale. But we did agree so precisely as this, that the President said after we had spoken of the subject in every detail-these were his very words-' Well, Mr. Sumner, the only difference between you and me on this subject is a difference of a month or six weeks in time.' Mr. President,' said I, if that is the only difference between us, I will not say another word to you about it till the longest time you name has passed by.' Nor should I have done so, but about a fortnight after, when I was with him, he introduced the subject himself, asked my opinion on some details of his plan, and told me where it labored in his mind. At that time he had the hope that some one of the border States, Delaware, perhaps, if nothing better could be got, might be brought to make a proposition which could be made use of as the initiative to hitch the whole thing to. He was in correspondence with some persons at a distance with this view, but he did not consult a person in Washington, excepting Mr. Chase and Mr. Blair and myself. Seward knew nothing about it. So it lagged along till the Trent matter came to its crisis. I was with him then, again and again. Lord Lyons sent in Lord Russell's letter. I went over with the President that whole subject. There were four ways of meeting it. We went over each of the four. We agreed entirely as to the course to be adopted. But I said to him then as I left him, 'Now, Mr. President, if you had done your duty earlier in the slavery matter, you would not have this trouble on you. Now you have no friends, or the country has none, because it has no policy upon slavery. The country has no friends in Europe, excepting isolated persons. England is not our friend. France is not. But if you had announced your policy about slavery, this thing could and would have come and gone and would have given you no anxiety.' The Trent message was settled at 1 o'clock on the afternoon of the 26th of December, and that day, or perhaps the next day, I drove

him up to it again. I said to him, I remember, I want you to make Congress a New Year's present of your plan.' But he had some reason still for a delay. He was in correspondence with Kentucky; there was a Mr. Speed in Kentucky to whom he was writing; he read me one of his letters once; and he thought he should hear from there how people would be affected by such a plan. Every time I saw him, however, I spoke to him about it, and I saw him every two or three days. At one time I thought he would send in the message on New Year's Day-and I said something about what a glorious thing it would be. But he stopped me in a moment. Don't say a word about that,' said he. I know very well that the name which is connected with this matter will never be forgotten.' Well, there was one delay and another, but I always spoke to him, till one day, early in January, he said sadly that he had been up all night with his sick child. And I was very much touched, and I resolved that I would say nothing else to the President about this or any other business, if I could help it, till that child were well, or were dead. And I did not. It was a long, complicated illness. It lasted four weeks. And the President attended to no business that could be avoided. He saw no one, he signed no commissions. There were mountains of commissions from the State and Navy and War Departments waiting for his signature. Seward presided at the Cabinet meetings. At last, after it was over-I had never said a word to the President again about it— one morning here, before I had breakfasted, before I was up, indeed, both his secretaries came over to say that he wanted to see me as soon as I could see him. I dressed at once and went over; and he said, 'I want to read you my message. I want to know how you like it. I am going to send it in to-day.' So he read it to me, from his own manuscript. And I asked him to let me read it myself, so that I could take it in more carefully. Well, when I began there were some things in it, you know, that I wanted to change-now that word abolishment, that I did not want, but, you know, I said, 'There is to every man an idiosyncrasy, and this is so clearly an aboriginal, autochthonous style of its own that I will not suggest an alteration.'"

"Lucky you didn't," said E. E. H.; "you would have made a pretty botch of it." Mr. Sumner laughed and said, "Yes, I am afraid so. There was, as it was printed, an unfinished sentence. That was a mistake in copying; it was not in his manuscript. Of course, if I had observed a word left out, or any such thing, I would have told him. Well, there was one sentence where I told him that he must let me recast it. I took my pencil, and I said, 'Let me write it thus. I don't want people saying you think this and so.' I was going to turn the sentence round, you know, enough to emasculate it. But he said, 'I'll drop the whole sentence,' and took his pen and drew it through. I was delighted and so was Chase, who came afterwards to thank me for making him leave it out. I asked him how the Cabinet took it. He had called them together the night before