Forty-Six Years in the Army by John McAllister Schofield (e ink ebook reader .txt) 📖

of the army and navy.

[( 1) Grant's "Memoirs," Vol. II, p. 105.]

[( 2) Grant's "Memoirs," Vol. II, pp. 104, 105; Sherman's "Memoirs," second edition, Vol. II, pp. 446-450.]

[( 3) See General Grant's letter to President Andrew Johnson, August 1, 1867, in McPherson's "History of Reconstruction," p. 307.]

[( 4) See General Grant's letter to President Andrew Johnson, February 3, 1868, in McPherson's "History of Reconstruction," p. 286.]

[( 5) Sherman's "Memoirs," second edition, Vol. II, p. 241; and McPherson's "History of Reconstruction," pp. 282-293.]

[( 6) Sherman's "Memoirs," second edition, Vol. II, pp. 422-424.]

[( 7) The records of the Peabody trustees show that their meeting in Richmond, when General Grant was present, occurred January 21 and 22, 1868.]

[( 8) From all circumstances it is fair to assume that General Grant's change of attitude was owing to his opinion as to the effect the nomination would have upon the impeachment proceedings.]

CHAPTER XXIII Assignment to the Department of the Missouri—A Cordial Reception from Former Opponents in St. Louis—Origin of the Military School at Fort Riley—Funeral of General George H. Thomas—Death of General George G. Meade—Assigned to the Division of the Pacific—A Visit to Hawaii—Military Men in the Exercise of Political Power—Trouble with the Modoc Indians—The Canby Massacre.

When I went into the War Office in 1868, the cordial greeting extended from all quarters was exceedingly gratifying to me, and, I thought, highly honorable to those gentlemen, especially in the Senate, who had so long opposed me, only one of whom, I believe, failed to call at the office and express a kindly welcome; and that one was so great a man, in his own estimation, I flattered myself that was the only reason he had not called to greet me. So when I returned to St. Louis in March, 1869, the good citizens of that place gave me a banquet and a most cordial welcome, in which all participated, save one, of those who had seemed to be my most bitter enemies in 1862 and 1863. It was especially noteworthy that the Hon. Charles D. Drake, who had been chairman of the large delegation which went to Washington, and one of the recognized leaders in the movement, to obtain my removal from the command in Missouri, was among the most cordial in his expressions of esteem and regard from March, 1869, up to the time of his death, at which time I was in command of the army. But his principal associate, the Hon. Henry T. Blow, could not forgive me, for what thing especially I do not know, unless for my offense in arresting a "loyal" editor, for which he denounced me in a telegram to the President. That was, no doubt, a very grave offense, but a natural one for a young soldier. Indeed, old as I am now, and much sad experience as I have had with the press, I would probably do the same thing again. That "loyal" editor, professing the greatest zeal for the Union cause and devotion to the National Government, had published, in a city under martial law, a confidential letter from the President, the commander-in-chief of the army, to the commanding general of that department. The ever kind and indulgent President was only too willing to overlook such an offense on the part of one who professed to be a friend of the Union. But a soldier could not overlook such an outrage as that upon his commander-in-chief, and upon the cause he was sworn to defend. Though his respect for a free press be profound, there are some kinds of freedom which must, in time of war, be crushed, even though the soldier himself may also be crushed. A soldier who is not ready to meet his fate in that way, as well as in battle, is not fit to command.

ASSIGNMENT TO THE DEPARTMENT OF THE MISSOURI

In President Grant's order of March, 1869, assigning the general officers to commands, the Department of the Missouri again fell to my lot. I relieved Lieutenant-General Sheridan, who took command of the Division of the Missouri, and removed his headquarters from St. Louis to Chicago, which then became for the first time the principal military center of all the Western country. These arrangements were intended to be as nearly permanent as practicable, so that all might have a period of comparative rest after the eight years of war and strife. I then reverted, for the first time in those eight years, to the thoughts and ambitions of my youth and young manhood, for I had grown much older in that time. First was the ambition, inherited from my grandfather McAllister, to acquire a farm big enough to keep all the neighbors at a respectful distance. In company with my brother and another officer, I bought in Colorado a ranch about ten miles square, and projected some farming and stock-raising on a large scale. My dream was to prepare a place where I could, ere long, retire from public life and pass the remainder of my days in peace and in the enjoyment of all those out-of-door sports which were always so congenial to me. But events "over which I had no control" soon defeated that scheme. That, like all the other plans of my own invention, came to naught. The ranch was sold, and I got out of it, as I always tried to do, about as much as I had put in.

Upon a suggestion from General Henry J. Hunt, the famous chief of artillery, when I was in the War Department, I ordered a light- artillery school to be established at Fort Riley, Kansas. Also, upon his suggestion, I directed that the four batteries which were to compose that school should be supplied with carbines, so that they might serve as cavalry when necessary to protect the neighboring settlements against Indian raids, and thus overcome any objection which might be urged on the ground that the barracks at Fort Riley were needed for cavalry. The school was organized, under Colonel John Hamilton; the batteries did good service as cavalry in the summers of 1869 and 1870; and all was working, as I thought, in a highly satisfactory manner so long as I remained in command of that department. But after I went to California, for some inscrutable reason the school was broken up and the batteries again scattered to separate posts.

ORIGIN OF THE MILITARY SCHOOL AT FORT RILEY

When that department again came under by command, as part of the Division of the Missouri, and General Sheridan was in command of the army, a move was made by somebody to get possession of that splendid military reservation of Fort Riley for some other purpose. Hence it became necessary to manifest in some more striking way the importance of that place for military uses. The occasion had again come for carrying out that scheme which Hunt and I had devised for doing what was so much needed for the artillery. Fortunately, General Sheridan wanted also to do something beneficial for the cavalry, in which he felt much the same special interest that I did in the artillery. So a sort of alliance, offensive and defensive, was formed, which included as its most active and influential member Senator Plumb of Kansas, to obtain the necessary funds and build a suitable post and establish at Fort Riley a school of cavalry and light artillery. The result finally attained, when I was in command of the army, is well known, and is an honor to the country.

The department headquarters were removed to St. Louis during the winter of 1869-70 to make room at Fort Leavenworth for the cavalry who had been on the plains during the summer. I then had the pleasure of renewing the intimate friendships which had been formed between 1860 and 1863 in that most hospitable city. Even those ties which had been so rudely severed by war in the spring of 1861 were restored and became as strong as ever. I found that the memory of a little humanity displayed in mitigating somewhat the horrors of war had sufficed to obliterate in those few years the recollection of a bitter sectional enmity; while, on the other hand, a record of some faithful service far enough from their eyes to enable them to see it without the aid of a microscope, and the cooler judgment of a few years of peace, had so far obscured the partizan contests of a period of war that none were more cordial friends in 1869 than those who had seemed bitterest enemies six years before. Human nature is not half so bad as it sometimes pretends to be. As a rule, it would be pretty good all the time if men could only keep cool. Among all the enjoyments of that season in St. Louis, that which left the deepest impression on my memory, as has always been the case with me, was the sport at Hat Island, under the management of that most genial of companions, Ben Stickney. We hunted with hounds before breakfast every morning, and shot water-fowl from breakfast till supper. What was done after supper has never been told. What conclusive evidence of the "reversionary" tendency in civilized man to a humbler state! He never feels so happy as when he throws off a large part of his civilization and reverts to the life of a semi-savage. The only thing that saves him from total relapse is the fact that he takes with him those little comforts, both liquid and solid, which cannot be found in the woods. He thus keeps up the taste that finally draws him back again to a civilized, or, more accurately, semi-civilized life. If any sportsman knows any better reason than that for not living like a savage when in his hunting-camp, I would like him to give that reason to me!

We returned to Fort Leavenworth in the spring, and expected to make that our permanent home. Some necessary improvements had been made in the quarters during the winter, and no one could have desired a more comfortable residence, more congenial companionship, or more agreeable occupation than that of guarding and protecting the infant settlements of industrious but unarmed and confiding people rapidly spreading far out upon the plains. With my cavalry and carbined artillery encamped in front, I wanted no other occupation in life than to ward off the savage and kill off his food until there should no longer be an Indian frontier in our beautiful country.

FUNERAL OF GENERAL GEORGE H. THOMAS

But soon after my pickets were put out on the plains, there came the sad news of the sudden death, in San Francisco, of my old commander, General George H. Thomas. His body was brought east to Troy, New York, for interment. All his old companions, including President Grant, assembled to pay the last tribute of respect and honor to that noble old soldier, whose untimely death was deeply mourned by all. It was a most impressive scene, All the high commanders of the vast army which had been disbanded five years before assembled around the grave of one of their number. The hero was buried, as he had lived, honored by all who knew him, and mourned by the nation he had so faithfully served.

Immediately after the funeral of General Thomas there was, if I recollect rightly, a large assembly, in Philadelphia, of the Society of the Army of the Potomac. General Grant and General Sherman were there, and we met at an early dinner at the house of General Meade, who had been designated by General Sherman to succeed General Thomas in command of the Division of the Pacific. After dinner General Meade took me to drive through Fairmount Park, in which he was greatly interested as president of the commission having it in charge. He explained to me the great sacrifice he would make in giving up command of the Division